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wynnyfryd · 7 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #tw: guns #tw: death

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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hey! I really really really like your writing very much!

can you do one where the reader and spencer reid are both nerds but different kinds of nerds. so the reader's more of a literature/ language nerd and spencer's basically an expert in LITERALLY everything. so she has a major crush on him but always hesitates to make a move on him cuz she thinks that she doesn't stand a chance because she struggles with basic math and physics chemistry make her head hurt

and so when spencer asks her out she's all baffled like you don't think I'm dumb?!😭😭

Hi, thanks honey!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s one of those rare days where you can actually afford a lunch break, and you’ve decided to take it outside with your book. Every day lately feels like it could be the last nice one you get before the cold weather comes in, and you’re enjoying the crisp breeze and warm sunshine on your face as you get settled on the bench outside the cafe where you work.

The book you’ve been reading for the past week is good but not great, and you’re sort of pushing yourself to finish just so you can say it’s over with and tell the friend who lent it that you gave it your best. Still, you’re very nearly lost in it by the time a pair of black converse comes to a stop in front of you.

You follow them upward. “Spencer!” you say, probably with a touch too much alacrity. Too quickly, too. You might’ve at least pretended to have to think about the name of the sweet-faced doctor looking down at you. But it’s not your fault; you’ve gotten used to calling it out from the counter when he comes here to pick up his lunch at least three days out of the week.

“Hi,” he says, teetering on the edge of bashful. “I’m surprised to see you out here, you’re almost always working when I come by.”

It’s embarrassingly gratifying that he knows that. You’d never hold it against him if he didn’t, but you’ve come to enjoy the little bits of conversation you grab with him when he comes by, and it’s nice to know that he’s noticed you too.

“It’s a slow day,” you reply by way of explanation. “I figured I’d grab a break while I still could.”

Spencer smiles like he totally gets that. You imagine he does. “Good idea. Can I sit?”

“Of course!” Again, way too eager. You’ve got to work on controlling your tone around him. You move your discarded jacket into your lap.

“Thanks,” he says, sitting in the space you’ve made for him. His legs are so long he looks like he’s squatting on the bench, knees high enough for him to set his elbows on. Which he does, tilting his head to see you. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. I mean, I wouldn’t really recommend it,” you laugh. Christ, you don’t want him to know what you’re reading. Spencer probably reads astrophysics textbooks for fun. “It’s not very good.”

Spencer puts his hand over yours, far from forceful as he tips the page toward him until he can see the cover. Your brain is short-circuiting so badly it’s a wonder you don’t drop the paperback onto the pavement.

“I haven’t heard of it,” he says, which surprises you. Spencer seems so knowledgeable it’s difficult to believe there’s anything in existence that’s not stored somewhere in his hard drive. “Why are you reading it if you don’t think it’s good?”

He doesn’t ask it in any unkind or judgemental way, but something inside you tenses nonetheless. You know perhaps too much about Spencer Reid. It’s not like you’d gone out of your way to figure him out, but the facts had presented themselves to you almost serendipitously and you’d put the pieces together. You know that he’s in the FBI, not only because of the laminated identifier he sometimes leaves clipped to his shirtpocket when he comes in, but also because of the coworkers that occasionally come with him. From those coworkers, you also know that he’s a doctor, and you gather that he’s generally respected and admired as well as cared for by his team. He seems a bit awkward, but sure of himself where it matters, and he goes into every interaction with a kind curiosity. Most of all, you know that Spencer is smart. Like, expert in everything smart. You’d caught a few jokes from the people he’s brought in about an eidetic memory, his multiple PhDs, and the nickname “boy genius.” No matter how shy and sweet someone is, that’s intimidating.

And it’s unnerving to have someone with an IQ higher than you can probably fathom asking about your intellectual habits.

“Well, the plot doesn’t actually have much movement, so it’s pretty boring,” you say hesitantly. “I guess at this point I’m mostly in it for the prose. Plus my friend recommended it, so I have to finish it to keep her happy.”

Spencer laughs at your little joke, nodding. “Wow, the prose alone is enough to keep you going? It must be pretty fascinating.”

You want to backpedal immediately, but settle for a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s alright. I’m kind of a nerd for that stuff. Rhetorical devices and all.”

Spencer tilts his head, something igniting in his brown eyes. Interest. “Rhetorical devices. You mean like metaphor and personification?”

You nod. “Yeah, like those, but also anadiplosis and polysyndeton and anastrophe.” Spencer’s eyebrows move slowly upward as you speak, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks despite the slight chill. “I just like that there’s things that affect the emotion—or the pacing, or whatever—of writing that we as readers pick up on almost subconsciously, but were so intentional for the writer.”

Spencer’s nodding, eyes going somewhere just slightly distant. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I mean, I know writing is a very intentional process, but I never really think about the tiny, word-level decisions authors make to influence readers.”

“It’s so cool,” you agree. “Like, how long do you think it takes someone to land on the exact right word for what they’re trying to convey, or to structure their sentences in a way that builds momentum over the course of a paragraph? Like, so much goes into it.”

Spencer’s smiling at you, and you realize you’re gushing, geeky zeal bursting out of you like a soda bottle that’s been shaken and finally uncapped. “Sorry. Um, what’re you reading lately?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says quickly, still smiling at you. “I actually just finished my last book, so I’m looking for something new. If this book has all that and isn’t up to your standards, I’d be interested to see what you really enjoy reading.”

Your cheeks are burning hot; you hope Spencer thinks the redness is from the cool breeze. “I’d be nervous to give you a recommendation,” you admit. “Too much pressure.”

Spencer waves you off. “I’ll read anything, don’t worry about it. Hey, have you ever been to that coffee shop on fifth? It’s in a bookstore.”

You blink. “No, I haven’t heard of it. That sounds cool, though.”

A bit of pink tinges Spencer’s cheeks; it’s probably from the cool breeze. “Yeah, well, you should let me take you there sometime. If you want, of course,” he adds hastily. “Don’t worry about it if not.”

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening. And then once you do, another second to make yourself believe it. “Like, as a date?” you ask, just to be sure.

Spencer’s smile is hopeful behind its timidity. “Yeah. Yeah, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah.” You can’t think of anything better to say, your brain filling with buzzing bees. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

He laughs, eyebrows coming together bemusedly. “Well, don’t thank me. I should be thanking you.”

It’s more a thanks for his taking action, you think. For making a move when you’d been too scared to, stagnant with months over your anxiety that he’d think you were too dumb or trivial to want to keep talking to you after he’d picked up his sandwich.

“Okay, great.” He stands. “Well, I have to get back, but I’ll, uh…I’ll see you? Friday, maybe? I can come by here after your shift.”

“You know when my shift ends?”

Now even his ears are turning red. “You…around four, right? I sometimes see you if I’m leaving work around then.”

You smile. “Yeah, four. See you then, Dr. Reid.”

“See you then!” he turns around, and you can see the exact moment he thinks to wonder how you know his last name. You don’t bother worrying about it.

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andreafmn · 7 months

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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3

Word Count: 2.5K Paring: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage

Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?

A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.

<- Previous

“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “You’re girlfriend’s here!”

“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.”

“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.”

“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”

“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian.

She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it.

“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.”

“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.”

“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.”

“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.”

“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.”

Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something.

The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.

Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway.

She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?”

“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.”

“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?”

“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.”

“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”

“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”

“Why should I? You can just step out.”

“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.”

“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.”

“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.”

“Right, and they’re so high, right?”

“They are.”

“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.”

In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.”

“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”

“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.”

“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.”

“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re so fucking infuriating!”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket.

But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.

“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”

“Fuck you, Philip.”

“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.”

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”

“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.”

(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it.

“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”

“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, shut up already.”

“Make me.”

Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be.

Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened.

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.

“Do you ever stop fucking talking?”

“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”

“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”

He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots.

Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands.

In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit.

“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?”

“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.”

“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).”

“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…”

(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness.

Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him.

Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her.

“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.”

Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with hate. At least, not completely.

He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass.

His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position.

But a knock on the door startled them apart.

“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.”

“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.”

“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?”

“Yeah, sorry!”

After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.”

“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.”

“Are you serious?”

“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.”

“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).”

“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.

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forthelostones · 5 days

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𝚙𝚝.𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: guys. this has been such a crazy ride, thanks for the support on both of my stories. it means so much to me. sorry for the wait... lets get it.

CLICK HERE.

(no y/n)

Abby watched from the row behind you, observing how you chewed on the end of that neon #2 pencil. She could tell by the bobbing of your leg that you were nervous and stuck on a specific question. It was the same during studying — chew, bob, sigh. Almost on cue, a frustrated sigh left your throat. She knew it was her fault that this was happening.

She knew neither of you studied long enough for you to feel confident on this exam. Well, that’s what she kept trying to convince herself, she was already finishing up the last page. Although her pencil glided on the paper effortlessly, she couldn’t help but be distracted by your indecisiveness on the math equations and multiple-choice questions. The once full eraser had been subsided to pure metal scrapping into the pages.

The time on her watch read ten minutes left until the end of the exam and you were only on page two. Studying had become harder for you with Abby around. It wasn’t only the dating component it was mostly the difference in your skills. Her ability to memorize vocabulary and complete math problems without thinking twice about them made you academically insecure. While you averaged low B’s and high C’s, she had a 4.0 and made it look easy. The clock's ticking distracts you from the problem you are trying to solve. It was one you and Abby worked on multiple times, yet you’re frozen, unsure how to solve it. As everyone flicks their pages to finish, you just … froze.

“Okay. Pencils down.” Your professor said just moments after you started a new equation. Your jaw dropped slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut. Abby shook her head, not at you specifically, but herself. You had practically moved in and the nights that would typically be spent studying were now used to learn more about each other beyond your friendship. Realistically, Abby understood that those moments would be worth more than a grade in the long run. But a part of her also resented getting this comfortable, ultimately impacting you. The feelings clashed within her. The heat forming inside of you could only be described as embarrassment. Why was it like your brain suddenly lost all power to its systems? It wasn’t unusual for you to skip a few questions but this was completely unlike you.

You chew on your cuticles and fold the mostly blank pages and pass them down to the front, doing the same for your classmates. Their pages crumbled with computation answers and confidently filled bubbles exposed your shortcomings. You should feel relieved that the test is over but you don’t. A heavy anchor grounded you but you were still floating. Abby met you down in your row where you saw her concealing another A-plus smirk. Once you both exited into the hall Abby’s hand finds the center of your back and she begins to pet it slowly. You shrug her away gently.

“Don’t.” You sigh.

Abby knew it would set you off but she did it anyway to show you she sees you. The blonde’s brain was moving at a rapid pace. She so deeply wanted to ask you about the challenging problems and the scenarios on the quiz. Her translucent lashes tapped frantically as she imagined the sheet of paper behind her eyes.

“I feel good about this one.” She finally says.

“Good. I really did not do well. It’s — whatever. Right?”

Abby looks to you and she couldn’t lie and tell you that it’s not just whatever. It’s your future. Both of your futures — together — it was important to Abby that her partner was just as successful as her.

“You should be happy that you did your best but understand that if you did do as bad as you think, it’s worth asking for a makeup to understand the material.” She suggested.

You hated when she got like this, rigid. Her posture was straight, her mouth set hard, and no softness found anywhere on her face. The regime her father instilled in her stayed and it was evident in moments like this.

“Abby, sometimes I really need you to just listen to me and be rational later.”

A chill followed down her spine following your sharp comment.

“Maybe we shouldn’t study together anymore.” She muttered.

Part of you wanted that to be a joke but knew it wasn’t. The night before proved itself to be deeply uneventful for the both of you.

“You’re distracting me.” You groan as you’re reviewing flashcards on Abby’s bed, the first mistake. She was wearing a thin, white tank top and a pair of loose black sweats, untied, on her hips. Her hair was drying from the shower you two just took and so was her body. The outline of her features was accentuated by the water being absorbed by the cotton. She was so casually beautiful and simply yours. The bed shifted behind you, her weight bending the mattress inwards, as she crawled towards you.

“Am I?” She asks, using the tip of her tongue to playfully lick a stripe of slick up towards your lobe. An instant bubble of relief popped inside of you. “Okay. Okay.”

Abby couldn’t take her eyes away from you. She had seen you in this robe every night now but it was something about how it was gliding with you. As well as your skin's glint from your body oil makes you look regal. You sat at the base of the bed while Abby retreated towards the headboard, leg tucked under her butt. She took off three inches of hair and it looked so fresh, carving out her face perfectly, and highlighting her stiff jawline. “How about we make a deal?” She said brazenly.

“What?”

“For each answer I get right you remove something?”

“Abby,” you chuckle, not denying her advances.

You thumb the index cards in your hand and turn to tie your eyes with hers.

“First question, the section is Anatomy and Physio. What best describes endocrine glands?” You ask.

Abby taps her chin as if she’s searching for the answer. “They secrete chemicals into the blood, growth, metabolism, sexual development and function.”

She raises her eyebrows and shoots her eyes towards your robe. A deal is a deal so you remove the silk, leaving you in your two-piece pajama set. Abby notices the goosebumps lining the outsides of your shoulders and can’t help but desire to rub them warm.

“Question number two. Anaerobic respiration can lead to a burning sensation caused by which molecule?”

“Easy,” she scuffed. “Lactic Acid.”

Her teeth appeared behind her Cheshire grin as your top found its way onto her floor.

“Good job.”

Your words made her cunt pulse.

“The mediastinum is located within which cavity?” You ask.

Abby’s face fell instantly. The outline of your nipples looked delicious and icy, she needed them in her palms immediately. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

You lift yourself off the bed and bend right in front of her to retrieve your shirt, Abby’s shadow overcame you and her hips thrust into your ass in one motion. She spins you around to face her, mouths inches away. “Do you think you’re going to actually put that back on?”

Her index finger traced the outline of your lips with her eyes following. You grip her wrist, halting her movements, “And if I do?”

Abby gently places the index cards neatly on her bedside table and presses you into the wall behind you. Usually, Abby is submissive but the stalking woman imposed her strength on you, like she’s been wanting to do from the first time she saw you in clinicals.

“I’ll just rip it off you.” She giggles.

“Would that be so bad?” You reply, bringing her finger into your mouth, sucking it then adding another. Abby huffed a keen groan as she bent down onto her knees, immediately pressing her mouth into your cunt. She lapped at the fabric separating her from you and didn’t even ask for you to remove them.

You insisted by beginning to take them off but she tore them off you and hoisting up one leg onto her shoulder following the other one.

“Abby.” You gasp.

“I got you, hold onto me.”

She was flexing her skill by fine-tuning your pussy with her tongue while she slowly hoisted you up towards the ceiling. Not only did you feel as if you were floating, you actually were. She was a show off but you fucking loved it.

After that, there was no more studying done.

“Do you think we should cut down on the time we're spending together?” You question, as the night replays in your mind.

Abby’s face scrunched up in immediate disapproval without hesitation at the suggestion. She pulled her bottom lip slightly in her mouth and looked around as if the walls suddenly grew eyes. Abby wanted to tell you no but she knew what had to be done.

“We can.” She grimaced with a shrug.

Despite all the time you spent together the girlfriend conversation had yet to come up. She thought about it the most when you were in her presence. She didn’t comprehend how you liked her so much and yet, you refused to make it official. She truly believed that once you ditched Ellie she’d be over the moon, but right now it’s feeling the same and Abby doesn’t do stagnant.

“Abby, we can still study together, in the library, several feet away from each other.”

She forced a smile. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll still sleepover?”

Before your crush on Abby developed you were denying yourself the fact that it was possible. But during this time, before the dating, your grades had been the best when you were alone, and you know for a fact, that it was because of her. You may not be as smart as Abby but you do want to come out on the other end with a degree too.

“Why don’t we come up with a schedule?” She suggests.

“That would be perfect.” You said.

The schedule consisted of dinners at Abby’s during the week, sleepovers on non-clinical days which were Wednesdays and Fridays, and studying every day at the library. Abby liked the organization but her body had gotten so used to you beside her. A week into implementing the new schedule Abby felt an immense amount of anxiety without you around. She didn’t know how to break down the feeling and why it was so persistent. Although you two were next door to each other, text messages still provided a temporary cushion for her sadness, but it wasn’t enough.

Abby clicked the icon that was the home for your name and called but there was no answer. Dinner was stewing on the stove, and in the middle of mixing a cocktail, Abby called to find out if you could taste what was missing. Another call led to another one and soon Abby was sitting with a candle flickering silently in front of her. Your plate sat untouched and she just picked at the remnants of hers.

Little did she know you were closed off in your room after studying, panicking. You knew yourself more than you wanted to. The schedule was needed for you to clear your brain on the feelings you had for Abby. With upcoming exams and graduation where would that leave you? She'd move across the world while you were huddled up in your small town's hospital circulation? It was coming in so fast and before you could mix in a girlfriend you had to know what you wanted. The pages of your journal turned soft as you tore your pen through the book.

A part of you wanted to hear the rapping of her fist against your door, ready to envelop you and reassure you that you would figure it out. She never came and because of that, a piece of you died. Conversations with her have turned short and passive since the last exam. It wasn’t just the exam it was a culmination of multiple things that either of you were ready to talk about.

Abby put your dinner into a glass container and waited outside your door trying to gain the sense to knock. One of the many nights you spent together gave her a reason to knock instead of sulk in her bed, thinking about all of her shortcomings in the relationship. You were both lying down and Abby lit a candle that night that you bought her. The sweet scent of peaches and cream cut through the bitter smell of her pine products. She loved it. Between the sheets were your naked bodies damp and lazy. Abby had brought a glass of cold ice water and set it on the nightstand beside the candle. You took turns taking sips.

“Thank you for the water.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it,” She nudged you.

You twist your body onto your stomach and look up to her glimmering, post-sex face.

“Abby?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“You still make me nervous.”

She cackles and brings her hand to your cheek and massages away your imperfections. With the roll of her eyes she licks her lips before curating a snarky response. But she quickly realizes you’re being serious. “Why?”

“I care so much about you and that’s something I haven’t felt before. With anyone.”

A kind pause swells between you both.

“I care about you too. I don’t want that to make you nervous.” She said.

“I know you see me differently but I am a little insecure.”

She leans down and kisses your forehead tenderly without a breath.

“That’s normal.”

“But I burrow. I distance myself when I get like that and I don’t want to subject you to that. I don’t want to hurt your feelings again. If I do that, get distant, don’t hesitate to just tell me to get out of my own head. It’s not your fault or your responsibility.”

Abby’s fist banged on the door with your words echoing in her mind. The thuds startled you out of the sleepy daze you fell under. You shuffle to the door to see the goofy blonde in her pajamas and slippers holding what was supposed to be tonights shared dinner.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Her voice was more welcoming than usual. “I was worried. Are you okay?”

Shoving her way past you and nearly tossed the container on the kitchen counter. Without hesitation she opened her arms and you couldn’t help but to run into them. Although she didn’t say anything the affirmation from her presence was enough.

“All too much in your head again aren’t you?”

A sob escaped into her chest and she gripped you tighter. These past few days have been a blunder of confusing thoughts. A part of you knew getting together with Abby would make things unclear in your life. But if she was willing to get uncomfortable and support you, you were obligated to do the same to her.

“Abby, I should’ve answered your calls.” You pull away to notice how unswayed she is of your state.

“You should have but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to talk.”

You nod your head seldomly and she grips your hand and takes you to your bedroom. Abby pats beside herself to welcome you.

“I’m so scared.” You blurt out.

“Me too,”

Abby was scared for the complete opposite reason. When she was with you it seemed like all the decorative things such as school didn’t matter. She wasn’t familiar with how that felt. To have an identity outside of her accomplishments or care about someone. With you, she could flunk out of nursing school, move back to her home town, and still be satisfied. That scared her — that one person could allow her to have such a paradigm shift.

Hearing Abby say those words made your heart settle.

“I care so much about you. I didn’t think I would, this much. I should’ve known because on orientation when I saw you I thought, ‘I need to know who she is’ and I am grateful for that thought blossoming into my mind.”

You couldn’t muster any other word but her name. She picked up your hands to bring them into her lap. She leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth and lingered there with her forehead pressed against yours.

“When you moved next door, I just thought maybe this is the sign I need to do something different. To not let my ambitions lead me but instead my heart. And my heart loves you, Dummy.”

#abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby anderson x you #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #abby anderson #abby tlou

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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 months

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🍸 Harry Crosby headcanons

18+ -helluva lot of nsfw under the cut but interspersed with a lotta fluff and domesticity…to me that’s the appeal of this man, cannot be separated one from the other: the unassuming sweater wearing vet at the block party is also a man of hidden depths.

Long promised and woefully incomplete, the word count was getting out of hand so I’m tossing it out, there’s more where this came from. Not edited so, apologies

Entirely co-written by myself and my comrogue @crazymadpassionatelove , enhanced and bedazzled by chats with @ab4eva including special additions from other guests who commented under my announcement post, credit is given at each specific point for their contributions

|screencap cred grabbed from: @hawkinsfuller

First off let me say it’s been ages since I read A Wing and A Prayer. I remember loving it, loving him and I cannot stress how much I respect and admire the real Harry Crosby and his Jean, the Missus of our dreams.

This is purely for fun, a heavy mix of both Boyle’s portrayal and a tad of Crosby’s real life vibes as taken from his accounts by me. Sometimes you gotta take historical figures’ virtues in one area -say navigation and math- and translate it to the more suggestive aspects of life -say, how to find a clitori- *gunshot*

Because this man’s biography is the most oral-leaning, drink-your-respect-women-juice book ever. Ok, almost ever. For a wwii book at least. Uhem so -I am prejudiced, sue me.

See, sometimes it’s the quiet, stressed ones with a self consuming desire to please who have the cozy sweaters and the attentive appreciation for your interests and the stubby fat schlongs and the propensity to keep you in suburban comfort all your days

The compulsive drive to call you “button” and be on time for church and thank you for your scrambled eggs each morning with eager kitchen countertop oral before waking you children up with annoyingly soft catchphrases they’ll recite fondly at his funeral: “rise and shine” etc

Also back to the perfectly respectable schlong for just a moment -This is a Thing! Justice for the perfectly adequate plug stoppers, not everyone needs a rolling pin, who can resist giving head when the head is the same gorgeous color as his lips?!

Mr Crosby is skipping off to lecture college kids about literature post-war with a pep in his step that you put there without fail, you can’t help it, it’s as essential as the matching “his and hers” coffee mugs you bought during your honeymoon

Cookies slightly burned cuz you’re busy as bunnies in the bathroom while the kids ride bikes in the cul-de-sac is a Crosby staple

This is a man who as husband keeps you well supplied with mixers and microwaves and cute little nighties and also loves your brain -SCORE.

Loves to gift you with bath oil and fun stuff to smell good. He's into lavender. It benefits him in the end, loves to sit on the edge of the tub and just talk with you for ages

Croz’s go-to distresser is to have Jean sit on his face until his vision spots

She knows as soon as he walks in the door. Fixes him a Shirley Temple, takes him by the hand to the bedroom and …..boom.

De—stressed

As for the ptsd nightmares? He just barely starts to thrash in his sleep and Jean is rolling that man over and taking matters into her own hands

You’re Jean now, you do realize that don’t you? It was never ever going to be anyone but Jean

This man leaves love letters on your pillow, in your apron pocket, in the dash of your car anywhere at all that you’re likely to be. All of this even though he’s gonna be home by six that evening.

Also, hear me out: lots of evenings he just lays down next to you for ages, facing each other on your sides, absentmindedly mapping your body with his calloused palms and fingering you for ages while talking about Persuasion.

Actually gives a shit about your opinions too, and not in the way of wanting to argue them. When you make a good point his eyes get even droopier and he grabs your neck and…

“You're one smart cookie Mrs Crosby”

“My clever, wise, beloved…”

Honestly though, deep connections and the ability to go vulnerable, and if those moments are often concluded with little laughs to shake off the moment -it doesn’t diminish it

Can actually talk about dying to you, not in a morbidly preoccupied way, but he can face it and admit it and be vulnerable enough to acknowledge the likelihood

Then get on with what needs doing

He appreciates how well you grow to know him, and he in turn makes a lifelong study of you

Also, this man is so highly attuned to your well being.

Yes you have to put up with his stress but for you? He will man-up repeatedly and without thought. He doesn’t even think twice about just up and leaving whatever situation is tiring you. did you see him hop up to get the fuck outta that bar fight? Yeah so, you’re bored? Tired? Stressed? It’s not even machismo it’s just a homebody not giving a fuck with the subtext of “my wife and I would like to go home and read and cockwarm”

Often gives the shiftiest excuses to army buddies and coworkers just to go home and hang with you, swears he has to repair that squirrel feeder -or that an alligator is in his swimming pool, “sorry guys maybe drinks next week”

Don’t tell the guys but…HE PAINTS YOUR TOENAILS

Maybe some of your high school friends snickered about Harry Crosby way back when. Making googly eyes at you and barely getting out the most stammered greetings? Bookish and a little clumsy at times?

Ha, you won in the end

He comes home in one piece, that beautiful schlong still intact

you prayed for that ok?

“Lord keep my husband safe -- and his girthy manhood in tact as well” …for the babies you’re hoping for of course...just that… kneeling in silk pajamas each night, adding this addendum with a blush but was always faithful to keep it in your prayers

Sometimes you have that thought in church as well...so you has to take a couple deep breaths and calm yourself...it's because you want children...not because you’re already so sprung off this man's dick after only a couple weeks of married life.

weeks that feels like a lifetime ago now, by the way

Prim and lovely Jean Crosby staring off into stained glass worlds thinking of having her tight little hole tugged open and her guts rearranged, it’s even worse than her thoughts prior to the wedding, because she’s had the experience, then suddenly it was ripped away

And she’s empty and scared to death for him

She gets asked to sing at the funeral of a lieutenant who never even got off the ground during a training flight,

work and church and such are hopeless distractions

Wanders through the department store wondering if every other wife misses this way, does everyone feel the same primal ache?

Dear Jean Crosby terribly worried she’s a freak yet entirely unrepentant for it

But ya know what’s probably funny? Across the ocean Harry Crosby is sometimes so direly missing his wife in the carnal way that he just about spaces out too, and god knows there’s zero privacy anywhere and the showers are the showers but like???? it’s just a no-go most times and everyone gets very confused when he’s in this mood?? Not at all suspecting baser distractions are what’s at play. Somehow someone figured it out, maybe he actually snapped a little about having five seconds to himself while reading a letter and they’re like

And somehow there seems to suddenly be five minutes or so when NO ONE but Crosby is in the showers?!

It only takes him two minutes to get there but he needs to stand there catching his breath and clutching at his heart while he thinks of Jean sprawled beneath him

This is probably Douglass’ doing? Because he’s a good dude, he doesn’t underestimate Croz AND he’s a dirty little bastard himself

“Fellas, the man got himself a wife while half of you guys are virgins? Of course he has urges?”

In a quiet, rare moment, Gale bends his ear -Harry is so modest and low key...unlike some folks *looking at you Bucky*- “So, uh, where'd ya say you and the missus went off to before ya came here?“

Gale’s gotta casually open the door for this conversation “Lots of good sights to see? I, um, haven't done much traveling myself”

It takes Croz a few conversations until he realizes just what Gale means, until then there’s a lot bewildered eyebrows at the inquiry and bashful appreciation for the interest: “Major Cleven I-I already told you, sir, we had a little cabin in the Alleghenies for a week?“

He's been telling Jean about Major Gale Cleven, about how she'd really like him. Gale is a good fella. He tells her about all their "travel talk"

Until one day Jean writes back: “Oh honey, that Cleven of yours is a virgin”

Whether Harry divulges to Gale anything he learned about ladies in that little cabin in the mountains writhing before a fire on a bearskin rug, that first time Harry actually didn’t stop and ask if Jean was dying every time she made a noise but instead, kept going until her cried properly built and she screamed…

well, it was probably an abbreviated account that mostly consisted of “wives are just wonderful people, Major Cleven” with a far off look in his eyes

Gale leaves him to it after all- Harry was married for like 3 seconds before he left, It's literally either playback of the last horrific mission or thinking of the curve of her spine

He gets the dreamiest look on his face, eyes all shiny, mouth a little slack

Somehow these two can be so passionate and yet it’s so wholesome and good and angelic?!!! It’s the allure of them

Because it’s all in these gentle and safe and good boundaries? Like it isn’t complicated and yet it’s not simple and it’s neither settling nor is it turbulent. something to be said for “doing it right”

They genuinely thank God for each other, they’re so sure it was always intended to be just them

I have 1k of headcanons just for the homecoming ok? Y’all will have to request those separate

But once home:

The eye contact they make at social events?? It’s a whole language, the most loving and adorable thing ever

He may not be a real gem of a singer but he’s an excellent hummer. so much gentle humming around the house while he’s fixing the stove light or rocking a baby to sleep or-

You know what I mean don’t you? Some men can just humm and you’re instantly wet? No I don’t mean humming a Billie Holliday tune

I mean humming when you make a new reaction to his incessant fingering while he’s reading, makes him look away from the page and arch a brow, highly inquisitive puppy dog look on his face, reading glasses pulled down.

*a new spot? After all this time? Must investigate further*

This man, when in his element, is a goddamn tease, he’s impossible, he’s goofy, he makes sex the joyous sacrament its supposed to be every damn time and he ain’t shy to remain stark naked for ages

Praise kink for miles in that, once you’ve praised him, he will keep doing whatever earned it for the next two hours. Brace yourself

He can recite your favorite literature passages (he knows them and took pains to memorize them by your tenth anniversary) when he’s gently plowing you from the back with his hand on your neck and your ear lob in between his teeth

He’s a biter my friends -gotta keep quiet somehow, can’t scar the passel of children y’all made, after all

So many excuses given to kids about “mama and I need to talk about the mortgage” -very rarely is mortgage even thought of once the door is closed and locked

But that brings us back to the early days, it’s one thing to know someone so well after all those years but the early days?

Two Virgins named Jean and Harry went straight from the chapel to fucking like Bunnies before he went to war

Harry had done his research tho. All that reading…

Harry Crosby totally ate his wife out on their wedding night.

even though he’d never really seen a full vagina before

he’s a bit methodical, yeah? At first? with a hint of overly flustered and terribly delighted

So I’m just picturing him like hunkering down there, tentative but firm hands on your thighs: “to get my bearings, honey pie” as he takes in the lay of the land

because there’s a lot happening down there on a lady, ok? -there’s petals and more petals and slippery slopes and little buttons and a tiny hole that has to be for pee, no way he’s supposed to go in that one?! but, but she doesn’t have another? Well the backdoo- no can’t even think of that. Oh god ok, ok, vaginal opening, -I guess that’s a vaginal opening?! and due north, a little button that makes her squeak when I touch it. ok ok, might as well start there…

I can see him with a metaphorical pencil behind his ear, ready to jot down notes

Jeanie finally sighs and grips him by the ears and hauls him up for a kiss and just grinds against him and insists it’s lovely

“just kiss me, silly.” she says to him after awhile.

“Mmm, I do like kissing you, Jean” he grins back

he’s naturally kissing his way to her boobs and staying there a lovely long time but she starts pushing at his dark head, *hint hint* lower down her belly and lower, and lower and he’s so caught up he doesn’t even realize it until there’s a sweet little patch of curls under his chin and he looks up with the oddest expression of curiosity and doubt on his face only to be met with Jean’s expectant eyebrow

She wouldn’t want me to?—-*ah, she just face planted me in pussy, ok then*

Lapping at it with the biggest grin, there may or may not have been some noise complaints

the whole apartment complex just knows he’s a good husband, never would peg him as a stud if you met him in the hallway but, Jean sure takes forever to say goodbye to him in the mornings so he must do something right

All the neighbors just can't help but be happy for those two kids

They cook them food and leave the casserole dishes on the landing so they can savor each other for as long as possible before he leaves

Next Sunday they show up at church like dutiful little Americans and they’ve got hickies everywhere and his cheeks are a permanent pink, Her knees are red and raw under her church dress

I feel like maybe they get a little adventurous as their time together draws to a close? Maybe they break a dining room chair? She's too mortified to put it out on the curb

*saves it for 50 years*

Some of those wedding china ends up in pieces on the floor. Can't explain to her aunts why they don't have a full set all of a sudden

i really hope he never loses that occasional hair trigger premature ejaculation tendency.

Sometimes it even shocks him, “O-Oh...shoot”

The last day together is a dismal and precious night

The poor man probably laid there on her sweaty boobs after blowing his last load with the saddest *fml* face on as he processed it being, indeed, his last

But HOMECOMING!

and now the war is over they can set up house and make babies

A small breeding kink, after all, these men marched home from war and basically were told "get a job and let's repopulate for all the boys we lost!"

It’s so damn primal when you think about it but under the veneer of the starched and polished 50’s

Croz can't think straight in that tight little hole, let alone think of the ramifications of another baby

“Give it to me, give me another, come on Harry, we've got an empty space in the Christmas card anyway, think of it!! fill me up baby oh godddd Jesus bless your pretty dick-*

it’s the most mundane reasons and he still busts a nut like she’s some filthy vixen and not his sweet and slightly too optimistic wife

frantic love making with a sweater and socks still on, too

Jean is a writher because the longer they are married the longer he lasts and soon she’s come and he just keeps going and she cannot keep quiet then and he’s too big to ignore or calm down between, just thick enough to always be tugging just right and she fully sobs from it sometimes

Often she’s trying to cup herself?!? Fully spasming and shaking and curling in but his strong forearm is over her belly and his lips on her ear

This man is a god at spooning sex

she is so cock feral when she falls pregnant it almost alarms him

The books didn't say anything about this?! He's exhausted and dehydrated and his classes are suffering as a result

Wants to ask Egan if he encountered this phenomenon

His war buddies become a new father support group

"Hang in there pal, only three more months"

They’ll be in the kitchen just chatting before dinner, she wants to tease him. Scoops a little cherry pie filling onto her finger. He licks it and sucks it off -- bites the finger too, in the background dogs are barking and kids are running amuck

As the Crosbys you’re in for a life of very benign but nauseatingly idyllic Christmas parties.

Snow globes, y’all

Sweaters, spiked eggnog and very well thought out gifts

Harry is the sort to carry Jean's purse when they are out shopping and she is trying on clothes. He also has no problem going and buying her sanitary napkins at the drugstore when she's on her period, because it's completely normal and there's nothing for anyone to be embarrassed about. Basically, he is just stupidly in love with her. He's like a puppy who will always follow, but she doesn't take advantage of that fact (credit to:@noneedtoamputate)

He is Harry “Have You Met My Wife?” Crosby back home, too, it’s even worse when he gets tipsy and his confidence grows and good luck shutting him up about how beautiful she is

This is the sorta man whose kids only learn Daddy was a goddamn boss during the war when they’re outta college, a very casual “oh yeah, that was sort of a thing, pass the salt.”

It’s canon this man cut his own son’s hair all his little life, propped him up on a little stool in the back yard and got to trimming -some of the only times the boy ever heard of those devastating missions

Imagine? Same man who used to take you out on the porch into the night air and rock against his sweater when you were a baby and wouldn’t settle is the same man who bombed the hell outta Fortress Europe

He’s the kind of man whose kids are so enamored over how both sides of the coin could settle in the same man, they end up making a documentary about him

Now I also need you to think of this man at bath time in the early 50’s -Shirt sleeves rolled up, top two buttons on his pristine white button up shirt popped with a peak of chest hair showing through, his curls getting steamed by his kids bubble baths

He’s got the prettiest slightly hairy forearms, y’all -according to Jean at least

Gives himself a bubble beard to make his kids laugh, will stay on his knees watching them play for ages, fully participating

His white shirt gets fully transparent with all this splashing and Jean has to really keep her mind on what’s next when she can so easily see his hair and pretty little nipples pebbled in a chill under them. Stops her whining about water on the floor in seconds.

Harry’s already hushing her and mopping it up with a towel anyway

The Crosby kids will have memories of their idiotically in love and enthralled parents who loved being parents, wrapping their baby selves snuggly into towels and setting them on the counter and just cracking up over how cute they looked with their chubby and shiny widdle faces poking out of terry cloth

Jean and Harry spend a lotta time doing that, they just love their kids, ok?

Brushing their cute little Croz curls

Jean can’t say no to a single one with their sad puppy eyes their daddy gave them

Sometimes they sit the kids in front of the fireplace (they obviously needed a house with a fireplace after that honeymoon) and line them up. Talk about them as if they aren't sitting right there. "Honey, look at those gorgeous eyes -- and his smile! Oh my, who do these cuties belong to?"

But it’s not all placid domesticity. Picture this:

Crosby with a mega phone, organizes a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. He's in charge, his aviators on, taking this so seriously

There are maps, he’s planned this for weeks, some of those traits and skills he picked up during the war come back at the oddest times

this gets even more intense if any of the war buddies are there

Harry writes letters to them strategizing, they all come and bring their own kids

It makes the local paper for being one of the biggest Easter egg hunts the state has ever seen

Night falls, children fall asleep and there are still some eggs left. Armed with booze and flashlights, the boys go out to collect the rest

Harry and Jean don't collect any though, they end up in a bush necking somewhere

Bucky gets very adamant about finding them and Brady is just as adamantly begging him not to

But Major Egan cannot be stopped, he rallies his men, hopping on the kids’ bikes and scooters

Everyone heckling each other in the dark suburban neighborhood

"Ya lost your touch Buck, keep up will ya?"

They all end up in a schnapps induced heap in the Crosby's backyard, long limbs all folded up on too small equipment

Jean and Harry leisurely stroll back up the street under lamp glow to their house where everyone is feral and collapsed and calling loudly for their hosts

Sharing soft little smiles and picking twigs out of each others hair

They tuck these idiot men in on the couches and floor, blankets, sleeping bags and dogs

Hear me out: Jean is the only human able to talk a belligerent Bucky out of his thirtieth beer

She has that sweet way about her that makes every person wanna be a better man for her

When he finally gives in and throws his arm over her little shoulders and swears she’s a good woman, Harry is there with the pan and the aspirin and the blanket

She makes them all the most perfect hangover breakfast the next morning, gingham checked apron stretched over swollen belly

Harry nuzzles her belly when she stops at his plate to dish up the eggs

Everyone wants to gag over how perfectly content these two are but that would be a waste of the best breakfast in the USA

And if Jean happens to make the best baked goods on the block - Croz is making sure everyone knows just who’s muffins those are on the bake sale table. Or if she wants to pursue a career or education? Harry is her biggest cheerleader, doing anything and everything to support her and being sure that everyone knows how incredible she is at what she does. (Credit @blurredcolour)

They may be the sweater wearing, block party and Sunday school couple but don’t think anybody gets away with being snide to Mrs. Jean Crosby -there will be comeuppance, even if it’s just an exquisitely literate verbal evisceration.

There's even more often a roaming band of local kids who kick the shins of everyone who's mean to Mrs. Crosby, because she gives them sweets and feeds them when they're hungry and cleans up their scrapes when play gets too rough and -if Mr. Crosby hands out a comic or two to the boys that "accidentally" tripped some bloke who was harassing his wife, well. All is fair in love and war. (Credit to @promptedwordsmith)

When in the summer of 49 the Crosbies get a swimming pool dug? It might as well be considered public property.

not just the kids who are attached to the crosbies, though. your home is a constant revolving door of visitors - including a bunch of ex-servicemen. if it's not bucky lounging in the pool, or rosie painting the fence in his shirtsleeves because he wanted to be helpful, then douglass is smoking a cigarette in the yard while trying to make you laugh. ev is asking harry to show him how to read this goddamn map bc they're supposed to be taking a trip to the grand canyon in a month, and bubbles is over for dinner every other night. even brady sometimes shows his face, if only to carp at harry for getting them lost over france that one time while working the barbecue because you asked him to. when you and harry bought the house with an extra room you weren't sure you would ever use, you didn't expect it to be occupied as often as a popular hotel. if anyone ever had any bad intentions toward the crosbies, they're definitely rethinking it. those that don't...well. being in the air corps teaches one all sorts of creative ways of getting back at people. (Credit to @fidelias)

Imagine all the different skills the Crosby kids (_and their neighbor friends who never seem to leave_) learn from these guys?

“Oh yeah, Bucky Egan taught me how to swim while wearing his aviators…”

In other words:

Harry Crosby went home and built himself a little Norman Rockwell Camelot and then opened the doors of the kingdom to his buddies and -that’s as it should be.

And that’s not even mentioning how the Air Force and the CIA walked up to his front porch and interrupted a backyard ballgame to ask him for his help

It sucks to be super smart and needed when all ya wanna do is teach literature, go camping and help keep the church life going

But still

Jean sure looked good in Pakistan, the kids enjoyed a new culture and Harry likes to say he may have done some good

#mota fanfic #masters of the air #harry crosby #Harry Crosby fanfic #Harry Crosby x reader #mota headcanons #masters of the air fanfiction #anthony boyle #hbo war fanfic

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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obsessive-evie · 4 months

Text

you’re pretty is all

pairing: Kate Martin + fem!oc

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, explicit language

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on.

You see, we have recently discovered that Kate cannot handle praise. At. All.

It happened one day on accident, I was just going to one of her games like normal, a pretty rough game against South Carolina I must admit, but Iowa pulled through, Kate being the highest scorer instead of Caitlin for once. She had jogged over to where I was leaning against the walls of the stadium bleachers, a wide smile on her face the moment she noticed where I was. She had barely finished talking to the media, still dodging reporters with cameras on her way over to me.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her head of course, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the side of her head. Her head was buried in my neck, her heavy breathing and warm body pressed against my own. “You did so good baby, oh my god,” I said in her ear before pulling away, my hands still on her neck. Her face now held a different kind of look in her eye. What once was pink from the exertion of the game was now speckled darker with with red, her eyes holding a look of almost uncertainty in them. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out.

She looks bashful, almost shocked, as she keeps trying to form words through her smile. A few laughs escape instead, so she breaks eye contact, and pulls me back into her arms, hiding her face in my neck.

I don’t bring it up until later, taking it as she was just overwhelmed in the post-win high.

But the more I thought about it, the more my brain needed to know why she looked so, flustered? Now I had had my theories about her liking praise, the few times I was more in control featuring a heavy adoration note, and less than a possessive or rough route, but I wanted to test my theory.

“I’m serious i’m so proud of you Kate, you played so well,” I say in the passenger seat of her car as she drives us back to her apartment, her hand in mine on the center console. We’re stopped at a long red, the large Iowa intersections taking far too long in any other circumstance, but i’m thankful for it now as I get to watch her head duck down in an attempt at hiding while a large smile plays on her face, one she’s clearly trying to hide. Her face flushes red again, and that’s when I knew I was on the right track.

Throughout the course of the next few days, I continued to shower my girlfriend with excess praise and compliments, relishing in every blush, smile, giggle, and hidden face. Everything from playing with her freshly washed hair while we talked about the game later that night, making her shift herself from laying on my chest to her kissing my neck to hide her red face when I started to delve into her high score. Not just that, but when she aced a math test a few days later, I went above and beyond in telling her how proud I was (she ended up telling me to shut up with a red face and half hidden smile, her large hand coming to cover half of her face).

The first time I called her pretty girl, I knew damn well what I was doing.

I was sitting on the bathroom counter as she curled her hair, just admiring her beauty and features. She was focused on not burning herself, but when she put the iron down and caught my eyes, she smiled, a puzzled look on her face. “What?” she asked while moving closer, her hands coming to my thighs, rubbing up and down my leggings as she laughed slightly. I shook my head, not wanting to admit anything yet, so naturally she moved closer, leaning into my personal space.

I shake my head while laughing, moving myself to kiss her lips with smiles on our faces. I break the gentle kiss to say, “My pretty girl.” Her reaction is immediate, her face flushes pink high on her cheekbones and ears, she tries to hold back an even larger smile which causes her nose to twitch slightly too. My hands cradle her jaw on each side before she plants her forehead on my chest, me sitting on the counter being one of the few positions she can do so.

I can feel her breathing slightly pick up, making me laugh again. She shakes her head in my chest with a small groan before picking it up, and moving back over to where she was standing, holding back a smile and a red face.

So it does work.

My plan was to see how long it would take for her to crack, or melt, either one worked for me. So when the day came where I was fed up with her being so stupidly strong willed, I decided to bombard her all day long.

I kissed every inch of her face when we woke up that morning, telling her how beautiful she is, even throwing in a my beautiful girl before getting out of bed to shower (she asked to join, but I don’t think I could handle seeing her naked and not get on my knees, which would ruin my whole plan).

I even hyped her up a little more the usual when we got ready to go out to dinner. When I would usually just call her my hot girlfriend and poke her biceps or abs, I made show of saying how good she looked, even throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure to get that pretty blush I adored. Now don’t get me wrong, she did look damn good, but it was a little exaggerated when she walked out in a gray tank and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail with a dusting of makeup on her face highlighting her natural features.

I got the blush that I wanted, as well as an eye roll as she deflected by kissing me on the lips.

It was only after we had a few drinks at a nice italian restaurant that she even acknowledged my praises.

I had called her “so fuckin pretty” after taking some photos of her at our secluded table, to which she responded, “I can’t with you, you know that?” with an eye roll. “I just love my incredibly hot girlfriend, and I wanna tell her, what’s so wrong with that?” I replied. She just shook her head and said, “You’re so down bad for me.” Of course I nodded my head enthusiastically and took more photos.

By the time we were home on the couch, still in our going out clothes and makeup, I was determined to make her crack.

I was seated straddling her lap, her hands unbashfully on my ass and hips (a personal fav of hers as she put it), while mine were moving between her jaw and neck, not deciding which one I liked better. My tongue was in her mouth when my hand just barely squeezed her neck, not choking or anything, but enough for her to moan out in surprise. She pulled away for air, her face flushed and lips bitten a dark shade of pink. God she really was pretty.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered before going back in for more kisses. Her hands now gripped my hips harder, pulling me down onto her thigh, causing pleasure to shoot up into me. She did it again at the same time she pushed her thigh up, the thought of the strong muscle beneath me only adding to my pleasure. This time i’m the one that pulls away to say, “God you’re so good to me, you’re so fucking pretty baby,” while smiling. Hopefully this is the fatal blow that will make her crack.

I’m right.

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on. Her bright blue-green eyes plead up at me, coercing my body and soul into her. I stay quiet, hoping to urge her to fill the silence. “I mean it, you have no idea what that does to me I-,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, breaking our eye contact, “I can’t, just-“ I cut her desperate words off with a kiss, needing to feel those pretty lips on mine again. She kisses me back with fervor, gripping my ass and hip impossibly tighter, her hands almost painfully doing so.

Our lips continue to move with a melting passion, each of us letting out occasional moans as we move closer and closer to the fires burning bright in our cores. I break the kiss and a string of warm spit still keeps us connected. I move to kiss her cheek gently, the restraint and stark contrast from the aggressive kissing almost making me shake. Kissing softly down her jawline, stopping just above her ear to whisper, “My pretty baby,” the hand that was resting on her neck squeezing slightly.

Now being possessive wasn’t particularly new for us, Kate liked to show me off and I the same, but we were never directly possessive. So i I guess it caught her off guard when I accentuated the my part.

“Oh my god,” she half says half whines as I smirk, continuing my pursuit of kisses down her neck and onto her exposed collarbones. I manage to get her tank top off, so of course she had to even the score and get me out of my shirt (it was bunched up around my bra anyways). Kissing down her chest, removing the clasp of her bra one handed, pulling her ripped jeans down, those were all easy. But resisting the urge to abandon my teasing and fuck her senseless once I got her in just her underwear was not easy. At all.

I too was stripped down to my shorts and lacy black bralette, my mouth still slowly trailing down her body, gently kissing and biting. My hands explored her hips and thighs the lower I got, the sucking on her chest and nipples making the strong muscles twitch slightly. Every time I pulled away from her warm body to breathe or look at her, I let out a string of praises or minor possessiveness.

The lower I got, the more she squirmed at my words. What would’ve probably only made her blush before this is now making her pant. For example, “God you’re so good baby,” made her let out a particularly desperate moan, her hand coming to the back of my head as I sucked on her nipple.

Something I did know about Kate however, is that she got particularly embarrassed when I went down on her. She had a habit of covering her face with her hands, a pillow, or biting her lips to hold back the moans that only urged me on. She also had a habit of closing her eyes or looking away, especially the more orgasms I gave her, because she had a tendency to cry.

The first time I made her cry in bed, I panicked, thinking something was wrong. It was after a particularly hard loss, a tiring and brutal game against LSU, and I decided she could use an orgasm or two after that. By the time I was getting her closer and closer to her third, I thought that I was crazy when I caught a glimpse of shiny eyes before she covered them with the crook of her elbow again. Amping her up for her fourth however, was when I was for sure that her moans were turning into almost sobs. My heart dropped, thinking I had taken it too far. Of course I immediately removed my head from her pussy and cradled her face with my hands, trying to remove her own from her face.

All I had received in return was a rushed out explanation, “No, no, please don’t stop I’m fine I swear just-“ she had said before I cut her off. “Baby you’re crying you’re clearly not fine what’s wrong was it too much? I’m sorry love I-“ this time it was my turn to be cut off.

“No, no this just happens ok I’m fine just I swear to god if you don’t make me cum these tears will be for real,” she choked out, the waterworks of frustration starting back up again. I had kissed her salty lips quickly before giving her a fourth orgasm, watching as the tears flowed freely once I had held her hand down on her hip. Back then I had watched in awe as her pretty face was streaked with tear tracks, trying to test my luck with a fifth orgasm right after her fourth. Unfortunately her sobs became mumbled words of, “No I can’t i c-can’t too much I can’t please I can’t,” while pushing my head away from her dripping cunt.

Now I’m determined to see those rare tears again.

Hopefully my teasing combined with her newfound appreciation for praise would be enough.

I stand corrected.

After sucking on her thighs for too long, Kate had relented and quietly asked me to touch her. I had removed her soaked panties slowly, kissing every inch of her legs they went down. This is when she would typically look away or look for a pillow to hide in, but thanks to our position on our barren couch, she had no choice but to look at me as I made contact with her wet pussy.

I started out slow by circling her clit and pushing a single finger into her, crooking it slightly. “Keep your eyes on me pretty girl,” I said, making her move her hand from shaking by her thigh to holding the back of my head, keeping my tongue on her as she whines.

Throwing out other praises and you’re so pretty darling, or, you look so fucking good like this, so wet baby made Kate only moan and whine louder, her hand coming to cover her mouth. I get minutes into pumping two fingers into her before I notice she’s gone muffled, so I take her hand away from her mouth by her wrist, and hold it onto the couch with my thumb on her pulse point gently.

“C’mon baby let me hear you, I know you can do it,” I say, watching as she tries to keep quiet by biting her lip, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I decide to push her further.

At the same time I curl my fingers up into her g spot, I suck on her clit hard, all while simultaneously pushing on her lower stomach. This makes her let out a loud and whiny moan, stirring things inside me when she tightens her hold on my hair. The tears begin to flow now, almost making me let up on my assault. Almost.

I keep alternating between sucking on her clit and pushing on her stomach, my fingers keeping pace inside her. “Oh my god,” she panted out, the telltale signs of my girlfriend’s incoming orgasm starting as her breathing picks up. I keep going, never relenting, even when her strong hips try to lift up off the couch, forcing me to wrap my arms around her hips and thighs, pinning her in place.

I take a small breather to say, “you’re close baby, I know it, why don’t you cum for me yeah? god you’re doing so well love.” She throws her head back and whines, a high and needy thing that makes me speed up my hand, even though my wrist is starting to cramp.

Her breathing deepens, sobs worsen, thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks as her strong thighs clamp around my head. Pushing on her lower stomach always seems to do the trick, something about external g spot stimulation? Either way, she’s coming on my tongue with my name in her mouth, combined with many other things I can’t hear because of her thighs over my ears.

Her whole body shakes and twitches, her hips lifting in an arch, her hand holds my hair almost painfully tight to her cunt, not like I was leaving anyways. Her heavy breathing doesn’t slow as I push through what I think is the longest orgasm I’ve ever given her. And trust me, giving head was considered one of my special skills. Wonder if I could put THAT on a job resume?

I slow my fingers inside of her, as well as the lapping of my tongue when I think i’ve stretched that out as long as I could. Her eyes are closed now, breathing slowing, her thighs loosened around my head, allowing me to pull away for air. I slowly remove my fingers from her cunt, causing her hips to twitch again, making me laugh. I suck her excess slick off my fingers, relishing in the way she tastes. Maybe I’m smug, but the fucked out look on my girlfriend’s face as she opens her eyes is totally deserving of a mini victory lap.

I stand up from my position on the floor, my knees cracking on the way up from the way I was kneeling. I kiss my way up her hips and stomach gently, small pecks up her warm body, making my way to her face. The tear stained face I kiss every inch of, something I had started after the first time she cried, a mix of guilt and tenderness I felt for her compelling me to do so. When I finally reach her lips, I swipe my thumb under her eyes, cleaning off any more salty tears or cum. Unfortunately for Kate, going from eating pussy to kissing cheeks means mixing of bodily fluids.

A self confident smile on my face, I kiss my girl on the lips finally, her once limp mouth curving up into a small smile. I pull away, taking in her disbelieving expression. “Where the hell did that come from?” she asks, shaking her head slightly against my lips. “You’re pretty,” is all I say in response.

#kate martin #wcbb #wcbb fic #kate martin is my wife #(real)#kate martin x fem!oc #kate martin vs the bottom agenda #wrote this in my notes app pls let me know of typos #kate martin my beloved #kate martin is pretty and i went crazy #smut #smut and fluff #praise to the max #i genuinely cannot tell if her eyes are blue or green #FIRST REAL POST WOO!#ALSO THERE IS TEARS

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kpopcafeeee · 3 months

Note

Hi!!

Could you do a smut oneshot of Johnny been a tutor of any subject to help yn(if you could do her as chubby/curvy would be great, but if not is ok), and they have moments of a lot of sexual tension so one day johnny just says “if you do it correctly i’ll buy you a sofa but it you get it incorrect i can give you a kiss”, and yn does it incorrectly so they kiss and they start making out.

Sorry about all the details

Thanks

New sofa

Paring: tutor!Johnny suh x chubby fem! Reader

Genre: tutoring au, smut, fluff, one shot

Warnings: smut, kissing, cussing, biting, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people!), one sex scene, degration, oral sex (fem receiving), Johnny loves ass in this story! (No anal tho sorry!), dumbfication, pet names for y/n= baby, y/n calls him sir

Summary: you and your tutor have some sexual tension and need to you get rid of it so Johnny came up with the best idea in his brain.

A/N: when I saw this I was so shocked and I was so happy too I love when people request things but this is a one shot so have fun and enjoy this!!! (Don’t shoot me if it’s bad pls😅)

MDNI 18+ only

You and your tutor have had a lot of tension in the room since the last incident that ended up with an awkward Johnny and you making a c+ on your math test. So when Johnny decided to help you again it was a relief from what happened.

“I’m on way with the textbook now” he says as he hops in the and starts to drive to your apartment complex, “okay see you later” you say smiling like a puppy in love.

When he arrived at your place with a textbooks in his hand, you smiled “hey” you said “hi” he said as he walked past you to your living room, placing his textbooks down on the coffee table and sitting on your sofa that you desperately needed to get out of the apartment.

“So what did you make on the test?” He asks “I made c+ if that’s okay” you say nervously “that’s perfectly fine at least you didn’t make F” he says reassuring you that it was okay. “Well let’s get started shall we?” He said rubbing his Hand Together “right” you say chuckling.

20 minutes into studying you almost gave up “y/n that is not” he says smirking and erasing your mistakes and redoing it correctly, “this is how you do it” he says seeing how you wasn’t paying attention.

“Well since you think you know everything Mr.suh how about you do my test then” you say sitting back on the couch and rolling your eyes “well Mrs.y/l/n I can’t now pay attention” he says making you roll your eyes again.

“I have an idea” he says looking at you “what is it?” You say raising your eyebrow at his now mischievous smile “if you get this answer right I will take you to buy the sofa you always wanted but you couldn’t get but-“ he says “but what?” You say confused “if you get it incorrectly I can give you a kiss” he says “su-“ you but before you can even get the word out he says “if you want too” he says like lightning. You chuckle at his suggestion “yeah” is all you say before you get to solving the problem.

You wanted to get it the question wrong for some reasoning and you couldn’t get the thought of Johnny on top of you making out with you.

You get done with the problem, Johnny grabs the paper to check to see if it’s right or wrong and when he’s done checking the paper he tells you it’s wrong.

“You answered incorrectly baby” Johnny says before pulling you into a kiss that eventually turns heated, with johnny on top of you “s-shit baby” he says pulling away from the kiss”s-sir” you say whimpering making you more wetter than you were before.

“Shhhh let me take care of you” he said while sliding down to your heat “dam baby you leaking through your shorts” he said smirking knowing he caused this to happen, pulling down your shorts along with your panties. you whimper when the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt, “mmm let’s see if your pussy sweeter than your perfume” he says looking up at you like a deprived man.

He dives into your heat eating you out like a starved man sucking on your clit, you were a whimpering mess “s-shit s-sir” you say whimpering, grabbing his hair making him groan sending vibrations to your clit, his tongue coming close to your pulsing heat, sticking his tongue in and out of your heat. “I-I’m gonna cum” you say squirming around.

“Cum on my tongue then baby” he says stuffing his face back into your heat sucking fast while rubbing his raging hard boner on your couch to get himself off “f-fuck I’m cumming” you say cumming around his tongue, while riding out your high and turning your brain into mush.

“F-fuck” he says sit upright on the couch your cum glistening on his chin, pulling down his jeans to let his rock hard cock out and jerking off tilting his head up and turning his head to you “wanna ride?” He says licking his lips “mhm sir” you say like a bitch in heat “then come sit on my lap baby” he said patting his lap.

Sitting on his lap and holding his cock above your soaking cunt and putting sliding it into your cunt “s-shit baby” he says tilting his head back against the couch “mmm f-fuck sir” you say rocking your hips against his pelvis. Slapping your ass and groping it “love this ass” he says against your neck, hair sticking to his forehead. Speeding up your pace “s-shit baby” he says biting the space between your neck.

whimpering so loud that anyone by the door can hear and can tell what’s going on. Johnny groans “I’m going to cum baby cum with me” he says rubbing the ball of nerves on your clit harshly “f-fuck sir mmm” you say whimpering kissing him harshly before feeling a familiar knot growing quickly in your lower stomach “d-dam baby I’m gonna cum” you say “cum on my cock then baby” he says fucking up into “s-shit” he says cumming painting your walls white cum mixing with your cum. while you fall limp against him.

You sigh “you’re still buying me a new sofa right?” You say tiredly against his neck he chuckles “sure baby” he say smiling at how cute you were

#send requests #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #johnny suh #nct x reader #nct imagines #johnny suh x reader #johnny nct #nct fanfic #nct kpop #nct scenarios #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #suh johnny #nct suggestive #nct 127 fluff #johnny smut

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nightprompts · 1 year

Text

&. 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝: 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( inspired from the pun book from the last of us, here are some dialogue prompts of various puns. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ for a fungi to grow you must give it as mushroom as possible. ❜

❛ it doesn't matter how much you push the envelope. it'll still be stationary. ❜

❛ what did the mermaid wear to her math class? an algae bra. ❜

❛ people are making apocalypse jokes like there's no tomorrow. ❜

❛ why did the scarecrow get an award? he was outstanding in his field. ❜

❛ what did the triangle say to the circle? you're so pointless. ❜

❛ a book just fell on my head, i only have my shelf to blame. ❜

❛ i tried to catch some fog earlier. i mist. ❜

❛ i stayed up all night wondering where the sun went. then it dawned on me. ❜

❛ diarrhea is hereditary... it runs in your genes. ❜

❛ what did the green grape say to the purple grape? breathe, you idiot! ❜

❛ i'm reading a book on anti-gravity, and it's impossible to put down. ❜

❛ what is a pirate's favorite letter? tis' the c. ❜

❛ i wasn’t originally going to get a brain transplant, but then i changed my mind. ❜

❛ what washes up on tiny beaches? microwaves. ❜

❛ why are frogs so happy? they eat whatever bugs them. ❜

❛ i don't trust trees. they're shady. ❜

❛ i was going to tell you a pizza joke, but it's too cheesy. ❜

❛ i want to be cremated as it is my last hope for a smoking hot body. ❜

❛ there’s a new type of broom out. it’s sweeping the nation. ❜

❛ did you hear about the man who lost his left side? he’s all right now. ❜

❛ what do you call a bee that can't make up its mind? a maybe. ❜

❛ i tried to make a belt out of watches. it was a waist of time. ❜

❛ i got fired from the calendar factory, just for taking a day off. ❜

❛ did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda? he was lucky it was a soft drink. ❜

❛ tequila may not fix your life but its worth a shot. ❜

❛ why are there fences around cemeteries? because people are dying to get in! ❜

❛ thanks for explaining the word 'many' to me, it means alot. ❜

❛ i once ate a watch. it was time consuming. ❜

❛ why are teddy bears never hungry? they are always stuffed! ❜

❛ i don’t trust stairs because they’re always up to something. ❜

❛ never trust an atom, they make up everything! ❜

❛ i couldn't figure out how to put my seatbelt on, but then it clicked. ❜

❛ how do construction workers party? they raise the roof. ❜

❛ what do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? a thesaurus. ❜

❛ when a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds. ❜

❛ i made a pun about the wind but it blows. ❜

❛ it's hard to explain puns to kleptomaniacs because they always take things literally. ❜

❛ what did the ocean say to the beach? nothing, it just waved. ❜

❛ i have a joke about chemistry, but i don't think it will get a reaction. ❜

❛ i'm on a seafood diet. i see food and i eat it. ❜

❛ why did the restaurant on the moon get bad reviews? it has no atmosphere.❜

❛ how do you organize a space party? you planet. ❜

❛ i once heard a joke about amnesia... but i forget how it goes. ❜

❛ the frustrated cannibal threw up his hands. ❜

❛ it takes guts to be an organ donor. ❜

❛ why is the mushroom always invited to parties? he's a fungi. ❜

❛ a guy walks into a bar... he was disqualified from the limbo contest. ❜

❛ jokes with punch lines can be painfully funny. ❜

❛ so what if i don’t know what apocalypse means? it’s not the end of the world! ❜

#the last of us #sentence starters #funny sentence starters #roleplay memes #inbox memes #ask memes #rp memes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #tv

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myobmaya · 2 years

Note

okay so, what if you and eddie break up and the one who’s more distraught than either of you is Dustin. in his eyes, this would be worse than his parents divorcing.. he would try so hard to keep it together, but when he would see one without the other, he would just become this big crying mess and he’s begging eddie to get his shit together and try to fix it. (you can make the ending a happy one, or a v sad one! your pick! also, sorry for the sadness, I just want an author to make me cry 😅)

I fell in love with this the moment I read it. Thank you so much for the request. Your brain is just *chefs kiss*. I hope I did you justice 🖤

——-

A Little Help From My Friends

Eddie Munson x GN!reader (they/them pronouns)

TW: talks of a break up, self doubt insecurities, alcohol use, cursing

Three Weeks Ago

“Campaign’s been cancelled.”

Dustin stops doing his math homework. Mike’s pen drops from the letter he’s writing to El. Both boys look at each other and suddenly they’re reaching for the walkie talkie.

Mike is the first to grab it pressing his thumb against the button, “What? Why!”

Even after Eddie left high school he still kept up with his love of D&D and opted to host it at his trailer. He took his role as the honorary big brother to the group very seriously. He never missed a night always keeping his words to his young friends that idolized him. Confusion takes over the teenagers minds wondering what crisis would cause Munson to miss the D&D night they looked forward too.

The line stays dead for a few moments until Eddie’s voice rings through once more.

“We broke up.”

The boys look at each other in pure shock. Dustin is the first to start asking questions taking the walkie out of Mike’s hand. He asks what happened. He asks Eddie if this was a sick joke. He’s met with nothing as Eddie turns off the walkie and goes radio silent.

Eddie holds the walkie to his chest trying to collect himself. He feels his tears slip down his face and wipes them away quickly before tossing the device on the kitchen table.

The fight you two just had keeps playing in his head and he wants nothing more than to turn it off. You had came home telling him of an exciting new job offer. He was so happy for you. It was an amazing opportunity and he was on board for you taking it. But he saw how you pulled back and told him you weren’t going to take it. You would stay here. He instantly told you no and said you’d be crazy not to go. You told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. He got insecure. You got angry. One thing led to another and he was telling you there wasn’t a reason for you to stay if you didn’t have him. You didn’t get another word out. He left.

He closes his eyes but all he can see is your tear filled eyes looking right through him as he tells you he can’t continue the relationship anymore. His chest tightens and a dull ache begins to form. His eyes open and he’s back in his trailer.

He stalks over to the refrigerator, opens it, and spots a beer in the back. It’s taken out and popped open within seconds, the cool liquid running down his throat.

It had to happen. He thinks to himself. He thinks about how you don’t need him holding you back.

He thinks about grabbing another beer but ends up taking the whole pack instead. He’s downing half the bottle and heads to his room. The bedroom door is locked behind him and Eddie sinks into his bed not wanting to face the reality that he just broke up with the love of his life.

—-

Two Weeks Ago

Steve Scans the VHS tapes ready for his shift to be over. Robin sits on the counter snacking on a bag of chips she found in Steve’s backpack watching him work. Both young adults ready to be off in a few hours.

They haven’t had any but a few customers on the slow Wednesday night.

“You know you could help me and we could be done with this.”

Robin pretends to think about Steve’s suggestion and plops another chip on her tongue. “Yeah, but then that would mean you’d have nothing to do the rest of the night. Who am I to deprive you of not having to work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. Typical.

He goes to bite back but he’s cut off by the sound of the front door chiming alerting them of a customer. Robin quickly hops down and stuffs the bag of chips under the counter. She wipes her hands on her jeans clearing them of the chip dust.

“Relax, Buckley, it’s just me,” Dustin storms in throwing his backpack on the counter pushing the VHS tapes Steve just organized.

Steve yells at Dustin to be careful and Robin takes her seat back on the counter. Dustin rolls his eyes as takes in the candy options in the case. Robin sees the disheartening look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Henderson? Mommy won’t let you rent Never Ending story this week?”

Dustin’s head shoots up with glaring eyes at Robin. Robin gives him a grin letting him know it was a joke. Steve stifles back a laugh as he gets his pile back in order.

“I can’t do it anymore. It’s hurting too much,” Dustin confesses picking up a Twix bar.

Concern takes over Steve and he leans against the counter ready to console his friend. “Awh man, did you and Susie break up?”

“What? No. We’re good,” Dustin opens the candy and takes a bite out of it. “I’m talking about Eddie and-“ Steve sighs as he pats Dustin’s back cutting him off.

“Dustin we talked about this. You have to let them figure it out,” Steve tries reasons. Robin looks at both boys completely confused.

“Listen Harrington just because your relationships don’t work out doesn’t everyone else has to suffer,” Steve takes immediate offense to that statement but Dustin continues on taking another bite out of his candy, “they’re meant to be!”

Robin’s curiosity gets the best of her and she’s throwing her hands up in the air and making a T our them. “Woah. Pause. Time out here. What the hell is he talking about?”

Dustin finishes the candy bar and starts pacing back and forth. Steve leans over ready to update a very lost Robin.

“They broke up.”

“Who?”

“Eddie and—“

Dustin stops and looks at Robin annoyed that no one else is effected, “We have to do something. It’s so obvious that they belong together! They’re supposed to get married and make me the best man, dammit!”

Steve runs a hand down his face having heard the same breakdown from Dustin every night since you and Eddie broke up. Robin glances at Steve and back at a very upset Dustin. She didn’t even know you two had broken up. Why didn’t anyone tell me. Then again, she’s been busy with her own relationship she hasn’t really seen you. The thinks back to the last time she saw Eddie. It was a few days ago at the Hideout. He was very drunk and hardly recognized her, but he was there. By himself. Dustin grabs another candy bar bringing her out of her thoughts. She thinks for a moment treading carefully over her words.

“Dustin…” she pauses thinking of the right words to say, “Don’t you think they broke up for a reason?” She sees the way he immediately shakes his head not liking those words come out of her mouth. “I mean… maybe it’s what they wanted?”

“Those two idiots don’t know what they want!”

Robin gets down from the counter to stop Dustin from pacing with a hand on his shoulder. He looks at her with a defeated look. She pulls him in for a hug. It only lasts a few seconds when Dustin stands still not reciprocating it.

“Why are you so upset about this?”

Dustin sighs and takes his hat off running a hand through his curls. “I just don’t understand what happened. One day they were fine and the next Eddie is saying they’re done. I went to Eddie’s to get answers but he’s never home.”

Robin nods crossing her arms thinking of you.

“Have you seen-“

“No. I went over to talk to them but I get nothing. They wouldn’t tell me to much of what happened just told me they wanted to be left alone.”

Robin starts to see why the breakup between you and Eddie is so personal. You two were the people he turned to the most when he needed advice. When he needed an outsiders perspective looking into his situations. He loved how you and Eddie always made the bad in the world seem so good. He’s seen to many couples break up, including his own parents, for him to give up on love. And yet you and Eddie showed him that it’s okay for two people to come from two different worlds and learn to love each other. Dustin turns around and a small sniffle is heard. “It doesn’t feel right. It feels like I’m watching my parents divorce. I mean for God’s sake they practically raised me.”

Steve rolls his eyes and straightens his back as his hands meet his hips. “Ok I wouldn’t go that far. I was the original babysitter and I help you—“

“Steve this isn’t about you.”

This time Robin doesn’t hide her laugh. Poor Steve can never catch a break and Dustin is always there to remind him. Steve shakes his head knowing where Dustin is headed in his rant,

“Dustin, you gotta let them figure it out. If it’s meant to be then it’ll be. You can’t force them to work it out.”

That’s it.

Light bulbs go off in Dustin’s head. He looks at Steve as if he just created a cure for all diseases. Robin watches as Dustin runs over and grabs his backpack. His backpack knocks over the stack Steve had fixed.

“That’s it! You brilliant brilliant man!” Dustin runs to the door but stops. He turns around and runs back to the counter grabbing another Twix bar.

“Hey! You need to pay for those, Henderson!” Steve yells watching Dustin grab his bike from the front of the store. Dustin takes off and Steve looks at the mess on the floor annoyance bubbling up. Robin pulls out a five dollar bill and slips it to Steve taking care of Dustin’s candy tab.

Robin watches Steve pick up the pile.

On the other side of town Eddie plays his guitar.

You stay in bed watching your favorite movie.

And Dustin rides his bike home thinking of how he can get his favorite couple back together.

——

One Week Ago

Eddie lays on his bed as his fingers gently go up and down the guitar strings. He hums a melody that reminds him of you and the way you used to sing with him. That painful ache he’s been feeling the moment he walked away from you hasn’t left. When’s not at the Hideout he keeps himself in his room. The door stays locked. It keeps him keep from knocking on your door asking for forgiveness. To prevent himself from telling you that he misses not only his lover, but his best friend. In the years of being side by side next to you, he’s never felt so lonely. He misses you. Your smile fills his mind.

Stop it.

Eddie stops playing and sits up. The back of his palms rub against his closed lids. Eddie gets up and puts his guitar back on his wall grabbing his jacket from the chair. His mind is set going to the Hideout.

Eddie opens the door preparing to leave but he’s immediately stop when fist fly at his chest. The person stumbles across the threshold but Eddie is quick to catch them in his arms. He pulls them up by the shirt in their back and is shocked to see who is visitor is.

“Henderson? What brings you here? To my humble adobe? To assault me?” Each question getting less enthusiastic and more sarcastic.

Dustin fixes himself pulling down his shirt taking a breath in. Eddie takes note of his bike thrown on the ground outside. Sweat lines the collar of Dustin’s shirt. His cheeks tinted red .

“I- I was trying to,” Dustin struggles with his breathing. Eddie places a hand on his shoulder and turns Dustin around kicking the front door shut with his boot. He sits Dustin down on the couch before getting him some water to cool him down.

Dustin take a gulp out of the cup Eddie gives him and places his hands on his knees. He takes a deep breath in and blows out into the air as if candles were in front of him. He’s exhausted.

Eddie stands against the wall opposite of the couch patiently waiting for an explanation.

“I wanted to see you. I saw your van and knew you were home. I was about to knock on the door right as you opened it.”

Eddie gives Dustin a stoic expression.

Dustin flashes him a smile, “I miss you, Eddie.” That breaks Eddie and he’s smiling back at Dustin. The two remained close even after Eddie finished high school in the past year. He hadn’t seen Dustin or anyone for that matter since the break up. You, Dustin and Eddie were all very close taking him in as a brother. He wonders how Dustin felt not hearing from him.

Eddie begins to feel guilty with the sudden cut off he’s had with everyone, especially with Dustin as he looks at him with the tired look on his face. Eddie doesn’t live near him and the weather still had it’s hot moments. Judging from the sweat lining his shirt Eddie knows Dustin went out of his way to see him and check up on him. Only Dustin Henderson would go out of his way to check up on Eddie Munson. Dustin is a real friend to him despite him ignoring him and the outside world. And that’s why Eddie doesn’t make him turn around and leave, he lets him relax on his couch.

Dustin let’s a comfortable silence pass before asking him the question he’s been avoiding for the past three weeks. His voice is quiet when he gets the courage to ask Eddie.

“What happened, Eddie?”

Eddie isn’t frozen by the question. He knew it was coming. Yet he doesn’t seem prepared by it. A chuckle comes out of Eddie as he shrugs his shoulders. He pushes himself off the wall needing a taste of alcohol.

“Nothing, man. All is good here.”

Lies.

Dustin doesn’t say anything as he watches Eddie take a beer from the fridge. Eddie opens the bottle tossing the cap into the trash before taking a swing out of it.

“As a matter of fact, I couldn’t be better!” Eddie begins his way back to Dustin.

Eddie takes another drink sitting down next to Dustin. Dustin scoots over seeing the strong front Eddie is so desperately trying to build crumble with every word.

“I mean I graduated right? I finally did it. I’m getting more gigs. And I’m not needing to sell as much anymore!” Dustin is surprised to learn that Eddie isn’t dealing as often as he was and he’s happy for his friend. Still, despite his new success coming with the band, he knows it’s all a front. Eddie thinks back to the argument. Eddie remembers being so excited for you. He genuinely was. But his fears of holding you back came in strong.

Eddie looks at Dustin with a fake smile plastered on his face. Dustin can only give him a half hearted smile letting him know he sees right through him. Eddie’s own falls and tears well up in his eyes. Eddie bites his bottom lip looking up at the ceiling willing himself not to break down in front of Dustin.

“I fucked up, man. I miss them so fucking much.”

Dustin pats Eddie’s shoulder before bringing him in for a side hug. Eddie knows Dustin’s aware of his emotional state. The way he’s closed himself off from the people he loves scares himself. He pulls himself away dragging his hand over his face to collect the few tears that escaped. He knows Dustin isn’t here for small talk. He’s here for a reason.

“I know, Eddie. It’s time for you to grow some balls and get them back.”

—-

Present Day

It was 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night. You pull up to the parking lot of the family video store seeing Steve’s car parked up front with the hood open. The lights are on inside giving you a clear vision of Steve on the phone while Robin reads a magazine. She sees you and hits Steve’s shoulder telling him you arrived. The store closed 30 minutes and both of your friends were stranded leaving you as the designated knight in shinning armor to pick them up. Robin peaks her head through the front door and waves at you before stepping outside. You roll down your window as she approaches with a shy smile on her face.

“Thanks for taking us home. Dingus is on the phone trying to get a tow,” Robin explains leaning against your door. You nod understanding the frustration Steve must be feeling trying to find car service after hours in a small town.

Robin convinces you to come inside in the meantime promising it shouldn’t be much longer. You happily agree seeing as the weather was getting colder at night and you didn’t want to use anymore gas to heat up your car while you waited for Steve.

You both make your way inside where you’re met with a very upset Steve. “Awh, c’mon man! I can’t leave my car here overnight! It’s probably just the battery can’t you just send someone to jump it?” Steve throws his hands in the air. Poor Steve just can’t catch a break. Robin looks at you and you immediately follow her to the break room. It’s a small room. Just enough for small table and microwave shoved in the corner; but it makes sense seeing as the store employees three people at a time. The smell of popcorn fills your senses as you sit down on one of the chairs.

Robin opens the microphone and takes out a bowl of popcorn shoving a handful in her mouth. She offers you the bowl but you politely tell her no hearing Steve yell out a frustrated cry in the background. You and Robin exchange a glance of worry but choose not to say anything opting to ask her how work was today.

On the other side of the store Steve calls the last mechanic in the yellow book praying they’re still open. He’s in the middle of hearing the fourth ring when the store door is opened and two familiar mops of hair walk in.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Steve murmurs just as the line goes dead on the other line. Dustin flashes him a toothy smile that tells him he has something to do with his car troubles.

Eddie holds two cable jumpers in his hand and Steve sees his van is parked right next to his. Eddie looks nervous glancing around the store. It’s clear he saw your car in the parking lot and knows you’re here.

“Heard you were having some car troubles. Figured Eddie could lend you a hand,” Dustin says not so casually. Steve rolls his eyes knowing that Dustin was 100% responsible for this. He wants to question how Dustin even knew about his car but knowing Dustin, and does Steve ever, he knows he planned this very well. Steve takes in Eddie and notices the way he fidgets with the cables in his hand. Eddie clearly has no prior knowledge of you being here.

Dammit, Dustin. Steve steps from behind the counter pointing a finger at Dustin. “I don’t know what you did but I know you’re responsible for this.”

Dustin only grins at his friend shrugging his shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve huffs at him as he turns around and guides Eddie outside to help him with his car trouble. Dustin waits for the two men to walk outside before he’s running back to the break room.

You’re in the middle of listening to Robin talk about a new movie coming out when Dustin makes his appearance by the door. It’s been a couple days since he stopped by your house to check on you but he still manages to get a smile out of you. You take in his backpack and glance at the clock on the wall hanging above the threshold. Concern takes over and you can’t help the questions that begin to rise.

“What are you doing here, D? The store is closed and it’s past 9:30 at night.”

A fake look of shock paints across his face as he place a hand over his heart. “What! Oh. Yes. You’re right. Ha. Ha ha. I just saw Steve’s car and figured he needed help.”

You look at Robin who only gives you an attempt of a smile but fails miserably with the guilt right behind it. Dustin walks over and opens up his backpack taking his walkie out and placing it on the table. He picks it up only to knock over Robin’s bowl of popcorn causing her to groan out in frustration.

“Oh well you look at that. I’m such a cluts!” His tone is robotic and almost rehearsed. He’s up to something. You cock an eyebrow at him about to question him when Robin sees your mind catching on. She stands up and grabs Dustin by his backpack.

“Dustin why don’t you go see if Steve needs help with his car,” She holds emphasis on car. The two look at each other, Dustin taking in her sentence before the light bulb goes off in his head. He claps his hands and nods enthusiastically.

“Yup! You’re right. Ha. Ha ha.” He looks at you and then at Robin. A smile is on his face as a moment passes by. Robin rolls her eyes and pushes him towards the door reminding him to keep to the plan.

Robin sees you about to ask her what that was about but beats you to it telling you everything is perfectly okay. She walks to the door and turns to you, “I’m going to get a broom.” She looks at the popcorn. You offer to help her but she insists she can do it. With that she closes the break room door leaving you confused as ever.

It only takes five minutes and Steve’s car is up and running perfectly fine. Both boys turn off their cars and hop out. Steve shakes Eddie’s hand thanking him for the help which Eddie only nods in return. Eddie is ready to leave to avoid any crossover with you. Dustin sees Eddie go back to his van. Eddie tells Dustin to hop in so they can go. Dustin happens to start coughing in that moment gaining attention from both men.

“You okay, Henderson?” Both men say simultaneously. They look at each other with an eyebrow raise for a second before turning back to the teenager.

Dustin bends over holding his chest. “Need water! Eddie go get me water! Steve stay here and get me my inhaler!”

Steve shakes his head at Dustin. It’s very obvious Dustin’s faking his actions. “You don’t have an inhaler-“

“Water, Eddie! Dammit I need water I’m dying here!”

Eddie doesn’t question it seeing his friend in distraught. He jogs to the door stopping as right before he opens it. He sees Steve begrudgingly open the backpack looking for his inhaler. Weird, didn’t know Henderson had asthma.

“Water?” He calls out his question.

Dustin waves his hand forward as he dramatically falls into Steve’s arms. “Break room!” Eddie turns back and makes his way there.

Steve pushes Dustin off of him. Dustin snatches his backpack out of Steve’s and gets his spare walkie out of it. Steve goes to tell Dustin off but stops when he sees Robin peak up from behind the counter. She managed to hide herself tucked up in the corner waiting for her signal. She sees Eddie’s hair bounce across the store straight to her target. Steve and Dustin watch as Robin sneaks up behind Eddie.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Dustin shushes Steve. Robin waits for Eddie to open the door taking her key out her pocket. He stands frozen in shock seeing you sitting right there. Robin takes the opportunity and pushes him inside, closing the door and locking it from the outside. Dustin throws out a victory punch in the air loving the execution.

“Seriously? You got Robin involved?” Steve asks completely caught off guard. Dustin shushes him waiting for the thumbs up from Robin that you and Eddie were locked.

“How did you even get to my car? It’s parked up front,” Steve wonders leaning against his car. Dustin waves a hand at Steve dismissing him. Steve watches as Dustin takes a seat on the hood of the car.

“I didn’t do anything. Robin waited until Stacy and her friends came in. She knew you’d be distracted long enough to get to your car and run your lights to drain your battery.”

Steve tries to defend himself. He is not that easily distracted. Robin gives Dustin a thumbs up and the teenager gets his walkie ready to get his favorite couple back together.

——

You stare up at your ex with wide eyes. He looks at you as if you’ve grown a third eye. Both of you say nothing taking each other in for the first time in weeks. Eddie’s hair is pulled back in a low bun. Lose strands frame his face so beautifully. You want to tuck them behind his ear but stop yourself. His eyes are puffy and his skin looks dry. Your under eyes are darker looking as if sleep hasn’t been welcoming to you.

Both of you look like a wreck.

The walkie on the table beeps in jumping you both out of your daze. Attention love birds. Operation: Parent Trap has been initiated.

Son of a bitch, Henderson. Eddie hits the palm of his forehead. You stay quiet watching him. Eddie takes a hesitant step towards you to reach the device.

“Henderson, whatever you’re doing, knock it off.”

You keep your eyes on Eddie knowing he’s avoiding your contact. Of course he is, he’s been avoiding you the past 3 weeks.

“Time to man up, Munson. You’ll be let out once you guys talk it out.” The sound of Steve’s voice surprises you. You never took Steve as the type to get involved. Interesting.

Eddie curses Steve but he’s only met with silence.

Deciding it’s now or never you kick your foot out to the chair opposite of you. It screeches obnoxiously startling Eddie. It’s your way of offering him to sit down. He stands in front of you with a weary expression. You simply hold your arms to your chest giving him a nonchalant nod. You have nothing to be embarrassed for. He’s the one that ended things to hastily. Not you. Deciding that Dustin will keep his word and you just want answers of your own you take the route that’s natural for you.

“This is a bit extreme don’t you think?”

Eddie nods in agreement taking you up on your silent offer. He sits down in the chair. “It’s a Dustin idea. Of course it’s extreme.”

You both chuckle at that statement. Genuine smiles for the first time in three weeks. It feels good but so bittersweet at the same time. Silence fills the air as soon as the laughter ends.

Eddie feels the back of his neck getting hot feeling you stare at him. He knows he shouldn’t do it, yet he looks up at you. Guilt rushes to him and he so badly wants to hug you and tell you he’s sorry for being an ass and ending things. He wants to say the things he should have said instead telling you it was over.

You see the fight in his eyes. His fingers cross over each other cracking the air bubbles in between before he rests his knuckle against his mouth. You know he still loves you. People who are no longer in love don’t look at you the way Eddie does.

“You gonna talk to me now, Eddie? Or are you still running away from me?”

He closes his eyes hearing how soft your voice is. He’s missed it so much. He’s missed you. The moment he left your house he’s missed you.

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer and he immediately realizes he already said the wrong thing again.

“I mean no I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here I want to talk.” He stops and thinks about his next sentence hoping it doesn’t come out wrong. “Only if that’s okay. If you’ll let me explain myself.”

You lean back in the chair crossing your legs out in front of you. If he wants to ever speak to you again he better start doing so himself.

“Please do explain yourself, Eddie. Please tell me how we were literally fine and within minutes you decided we weren’t.” You don’t mean to bring up that night so hastily but you have no choice but too. He left you with no answer as to why.

Eddie slides his head down to meet his closed fist. You watch him battle himself internally. His eyes are closed and he wants to shut down again. You see him begin to struggle and out of instinct you lean across the table and place your hand on top of his. He instantly relaxes to your touch.

“You gotta give me something here, Ed’s.” You slide your thumb over the back of his hand. Your voice is no longer hard. Even though you know in your heart it’s not true you still find yourself seeking confirmation. “If you don’t love me—”

His head shoots up shaking furiously. He cuts you off immediately letting you know that statement is all but true. “Loving you isn’t the issue. It’s not the issue at all.”

The pain settled in your heart begins to chip away. You knew that already but you needed to hear him confirm it. “Then what is it? Was it the job offer?”

Eddie looks down not wanting to see the shame in your eyes. He can deal with everyone telling him he’s a disappointment. But the moment he sees it in your eyes he know he’ll never come back from that. He can deal with the world not believing in him as long as you’re the one to cheer him on.

“It’s me.”

You ask what he means by that. Eddie lets out a huff. He doesn’t want to tell you how he’s feeling. If he tells you that he’s scared of holding you back then you’ll realize you can be with someone who can offer you more. Not the small town drug dealer that took longer to graduate.

But when you stare at him with zero judgement in your eyes that’s all it takes for Eddie to gather his thoughts. You patiently wait for him to gather what he needs to say. Just like you always do when you know he needs to process and execute his words properly. “I wasn’t mad at you for getting the job offer. I was proud of you. I am proud of you. You’re going to go off and do great things. Be whatever you want.” He sees the way you suck in your bottom lip to keep yourself from interrupting him. “But, I’m not destined for that. This is the best I’m going to get. And that’s why we need to stop this. I can’t be the one to hold you back. I won’t be the reason you stay.”

You feel your heart break again, but this time it’s for the man in front of you, not because of him. How could he think so low of himself? How could he make a decision based on his insecurities? How could he think he’s doing what’s best for you? A mix of frustration and annoyance builds.

“Eddie Munson, you are one stupid man if you think for a second I’m going to let you decide what’s good for me!”

He goes to speak but you immediately cut him off. “I’ve loved you for how many years now? I’ll continue to do so because it’s what I want. I want you. You don’t get to sit here and decide who I can and cannot love. Yes, the job offer I got is amazing but I’ll get another one because I know what they’re offering isn’t enough. And do you know how I know that?”

You don’t wait for his reply instead standing up from your seat. He watches you with wide eyes. “Because you are the one who taught me to forget the social norm and do what calls out to me.” You have a finger shooting at him to get your point across. “This job offer isn’t it for me. But maybe the next one will. And maybe I’ll take it. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. You don’t know. But all I know is that when that time comes we’ll cross that bridge together. Because that’s what we do. We make decision together, Eddie.”

Eddie only stares up at you seeing the passion in your eyes. You hold zero judgement or hatred to him. His fall back down to his hands. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“You deserve better. I don’t know if I can give you that.”

Frustration leaves and you begin to see the insecurity laying on the surface of his emotions. You feel yourself get sad. How can he not see what you see in him? You tell him to look up at you. He doesn’t.

“Look at me.”

You step away from the table. You squat down to be eye level with him. To be equal with him. You gently grab his face in between your hands. He looks at you and disappointment never comes across your face.

“Eddie Munson the world doesn’t deserve you, yet here you are. You are too hard on yourself. I love you. I didn’t know you’d be it for me but the moment you let me into your world I knew I’d love nothing more than to forever be with you. I love you, Eddie. I do. But you don’t get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not. You’re it for me.”

“But-“ you shake your head. If only you could take away his insecurities of being good enough you’d do it in a heartbeat. You wish so desperately he could see the good that you see in him. You wish you could take away any negative thoughts he has about himself. Just like he wishes you were nicer to yourself. How he wishes you’d never get into your head with negative thoughts. The two of you tended to be so wrapped up in trying to help each other you both forgot to take care of yourselves in the process.

“No buts. You love me. I love you. We love each other. We fight. We make up. We take care of each other. But it needs to start with us first, Eddie.”

He leans forward and captures your lips. You keep your hands on his face while his hands hold onto the sides of your neck. There’s nothing sexual behind the kiss. Just two people desperate to tell each other how much they love one another.

He isn’t the one to pull back. He never wants to be the one to pull back ever again, emotionally and physically. You lean your forehead against his both of you masking each other in.

“Don’t ever doubt us, again.”

He nods letting go of your neck to get ahold of your fingers. Both of your pinkies lock around each other and he kisses your knuckle. “I promise I won’t ever doubt us again.” You repeat his actions, the pinky promise bond ensuring your word to each other.

Eddie helps you stand up and you pick up the walkie talkie. You give him one last kisses before pressing the button. “Time to tell our love child mommy and daddy are back together.” Eddie laughs at your comment taking your hand in his. It only takes a few moments and the door is open revealing a shy faced Robin. You give her a thumbs up telling her all is well. She squeals with excitement. You feel Eddie pull you into him. Eddie and you make your way up to the front with her trailing right behind to lock up the store. Dustin can be heard celebrating with Steve outside who tells him to get in the car so he can take him home.

Both of you are just reaching the front store doors when Eddie’s curiosity gets the best of him.

“Wait,” you stop and look at him giving your full attention .

He eyes you suspiciously. “Whose mommy and whose daddy?”

You can only laugh when you hear Robin give a fake gag hearing the innuendo in his tone. You lean forward placing a sweet peak on his lips. He pulls back as you throw him a wink. “We have three weeks to make up for. Let’s go back to your place and find out.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson request #eddie munson x gender neutral reader

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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months

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"Look that pretty exoression. I always knew you could make one." + "Let me stay lije this in you for a little bit." 😜

I completely forgot about those smut prompts! Well, a chance to write fics about Tiriel and Astarion!

Our Firsts

Synopsis: Astarion learns some details about Tiriel's past

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, PIV, NSFW

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Freedom.

Astarion tastes the word on his tongue.

Freedom.

No parasite in his brain. No voice in his head.

Freedom.

He says this to himself daily, getting used to being able to do whatever he wants. Well, as long as it's dark but there is always a price to pay. Besides, he hasn't lost hope of finding a cure.

"Hm? Are you awake?"

Tiriel's voice sounds muffled as she lies her face pressed in the pillow. She sleeps naked, half of her body covered with a blanket. He can see her freckled back and the way her half-elven ears protrude a bit.

Tiriel falls back to sleep again, but Astarion puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses the nape of her neck.

"Wake up, I miss you"

"You are worse than a cat, love," she mutters. "Let me sleep!"

Astarion does mental math and decides Tiriel has slept enough—besides, too much sleep is unhealthy for non-elves.

He hugs her right below her perky tits and turns her around on her back. Her nipples immediately harden, sensing the cold air.

Astarion pauses at her chest for a few moments. He hasn't made love to Tiriel for a few months, since that night in the graveyard. He just couldn't make himself—and Tiriel didn't insist. They literally had sex only twice—back then, when he thought he seduced her and then in the graveyard.

Ever since—all these months—Tiriel has been showing him all forms of intimacy that don’t involve sex.

He especially enjoys cuddling during sleep, even though he just lays motionless with Tiriel in his arms for all these insanely long silent hours she needs to rest.

"Date a vampire, they say," she covers her face with her palms. "You will be able to sleep the whole day, they say".

Astarion leans toward her and kisses her hands. She looks adorable—puffy eyes, dark circles because of the excess ale she drank the day before, a string of drool on her chin.

"Is it night?"

"Not yet."

They sit like that in silence. Astarion looks at Tiriel—there are so many questions he wants to ask her. There is nothing about his life she doesn't know—but he realizes he doesn't know much about her.

Except for her miserable childhood and twenty years of traveling, when a runaway girl from the Sunset Mountains slowly became a furious warrior capable of challenging gods, monsters, and fate.

"Tiriel."

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," She caresses his back scars and kisses the center of the disgusting symbol carved into his skin.

"Did you have many..." he tries to find an appropriate word. Lovers? Sexual partners? Significant others? He called his victims conquests and lovers but, gods, he wishes he never had to sleep with them. It was all dirty and tainted, and he often wanted to flay his skin himself.

Just to forget.

"I mean. Was there anyone before me? I am just curious."

Tiriel looks at him. Her eyes have different colors—the right one is closer to blue, and the left—is more green.

"No one."

"Tiriel, I am not jealous or anything. I just ... want to know"

"And I am letting you know you were my first. In terms of relationship and in terms of sex. You were the first person in this whole world after my bitch of a mother who saw me naked. And you are the first person who I am in love with."

Astarion pulls away. Memories of their first night together flash before his eyes. He remembers being prepared for a long evening of seduction and sweet words before Tiriel the Barbarian was at his side, but when he turned his head to her, she was already naked and looking at him with such defiance that he got right to the point.

"Tiriel, I am sort of a professional in these matters. You were not a virgin."

"I was. Astarion, there are plenty of ways a girl can explore her body without involving other people, especially the ones with cocks between their legs. If the matter of my virgin blood bothers you, it was spilled somewhere in Elturel. I don't remember the name of the Inn. And the stone thing of the "proper" form was left in the room I'd rented."

Tiriel touches his left ear and it sends an electrical impulse through his body. "As for my behavior, I was so afraid I would be turned into a monster, my self-control and fears had offed themselves. You had been courting me for days, saying words no man ever told me. And I decided it was my chance to finally get this...experience. And I wasn't disappointed— that night was everything. I was a bit sad you weren’t offering to repeat the experience,as if you didn't like me enough. But whatever—you are my first love, my first kiss, my first sex, my first relationship. And gods, I hope you are also the last"

Astarion intertwines Tiriel's fingers with his. Then he kisses her knuckles and she giggles at the sensation.

"My love," he manages to say.

In a way, she is also his first. Not only the first sentient creature he'd dined on—and her blood always tasted different to him—she was the first he kissed voluntarily, the first person he slept with for his own sake, the first he fell in love with and the first... he wanted to be with.

Of course, she is mortal and even though half-elves live much longer than humans they don't have much time in comparison with his immortality, or the longevity of elven years.

But he prefers not to think about it.

Tiriel kisses the tip of his nose. Her facial expression becomes playful.

"You are the only one who saw me naked," another kiss. "You are the only one who touched me. The only one who was inside me and the only one who filled me. All these years..." she kisses his lips. "I was saving myself for you".

She stops, waiting for his response. They agreed that since he has no idea when he’ll want to have sex again (but he will want to someday), she is free to initiate—and he is free to stop her.

Before now, she'd done it three times—and he never found the moral strength to let her continue.

Tiriel waits. Astarion feels her arousal. If he says "no", she will just use her fingers to pleasure herself somewhere behind a tree. She won't be angry or annoyed. She never is. For Tiriel, the relationship is so much more than sex, her focus is on other things.

He caresses her cheek, trying to decide what to do.

But his own body has already made a decision and he feels tension in his pants.

He wants her.

He wants to fuck her.

He wants her to scream his name, to scratch his back, to come because of his touches. He wants to see the red sparkles in her eyes when she rides her orgasm, a distant shade of what’s happening to her when she is in a rage.

He wants her to clench around him, to tug him so close he won’t be able to pull away by himself.

He grabs her shoulders and pushes Tiriel on the bedroll. She is already naked and he doesn’t need to waste time on dealing with her clothes.

Astarion kisses Tiriel and slips his hand between her legs.

“So wet for me,” he murmurs.

He gets rid of his shirt and leans to kiss Tiriel again. She reaches out for the laces of his trousers and sets his manhood free.

“So hard for me,” she answers and strokes him.

It doesn’t take him a lot of effort to get rid of the rest of his clothes.

He aligns himself with her swollen entrance and slips inside, causing Tiriel to gasp.

“I forgot how thick it is,” she whimpers in pleasurable pain. “Damn, let me adjust”

Her walls clench around him and Astarion thinks he is going to cum right away.

“How did you even survive the first time?” he coos, wrapping himself around her. Now his teeth are right in front of her neck and her heart is so close he can mistake its beat for his own.

“I was drunk and had a parasite in my head. Besides, you had bitten me,” she pants. “And … oh gods… I couldn't shut my legs the next morning…”

He rolls his hips, forcing Tiriel to moan, and thrusts with all the passion he’s saved in those months.

She grabs a fistful of his hair and now it’s his time to groan with pleasure.

“Tiriel,” he gasps looking into her eyes.

“Don’t … hold…yourself,” she begs.

Astarion pins her down to the bedroll.

“Don’t ask for what you can’t endure.”

“Try me, my love.”

He moves down and pierces her neck. Blood gushes down his throat. He pulls away after a few gulps and licks the skin.

Then, he goes down covering her body in bites and kisses, her blood mixing up with his saliva.

He elbows up so he can see her face and thrusts harder and harder. Her moans become cries, her fingers pierce his skin and her legs wrap around his waist tugging him close.

His mind gets blurry—his whole world is shrunk to their small tent, Tiriel’s heartbeat, and the wet warmth between them.

Astarion feels his release getting close and he presses his forehead to hers.

He finishes inside Tiriel and collapses on her like a weighted blanket.

Tiriel pants. Her face is red and her eyes are completely empty. Her mouth is half open and her whole facial expression is so stupid he grins.

“Look at that pretty expression. I always knew you could make one.”

Tirel finally makes eye contact with him and pats his hip.

“What is it darling?”

“Don’t you want to pull away?”

“Let me stay inside you for a little bit,” he places his head on her breasts. Tiriel’s body is warm and safe and he doesn’t want to move.

She kisses the crown of his head. “Then, stay.”

Time passes slowly. Tiriel draws invisible lines on his back and shoulder.

He finally releases her hips and adores her body. She is covered in bite marks, and there are bruises on her wrists. Legs are still wide open and his spend leaks on the bedroll.

Tiriel sits up and presses her knees against her chest. She doesn’t make an effort to clean the sticky mess.

“Are you all right?” She finally asks.

He nods. Gods, he wants to do that over and over again.

“It’s dark already. No matter how much I love being covered in blood and sweat, I desperately need to wash. And, I think, so do you.”

“Careful, darling, I might want to have another round.”

“Who said I wouldn’t want to?”

Tag list

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