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matttgirlies · 2 days

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Matt & Me🎀

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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - age gap,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷

Chapter 5

For the next two days I locked myself in my room, unable to eat, unable to sleep. Finally my mother said, “This isn’t going to help. Moping around here isn’t going to bring him back. He’s gone. He’ll be getting into his new life, and so should you.”

I forced myself to go to school and found myself swamped by photographers and reporters who were calling me “the girl he left behind” and barraging me with questions.

“How old are you, Miss y/ln?”

“I’m, uh—”

“Your records show you’re only in the ninth grade.”

“Well, ah, yes, that—”

“How long have you known Mr. Sturniolo?”

“About . . . just a few months.”

“What is your relationship with him?”

“We’re . . . just friends.”

“Has he called you since he returned?”

“No, but—”

“Did you know he’s seeing Madison Beer?”

“What?”

“Madison Beer.”

Suddenly feeling sick, I excused myself and left.

Each day there were calls from the United States, with offers of first-class round-trip tickets for me to appear on TV. I declined these as well as offers from top European magazines requesting interviews and photo sessions. Letters poured in from lonesome GIs all over the world. I had attracted their attention, perhaps as a soldier’s sweetheart. I also received letters from Matt’s fans, some friendly and some disheartened that maybe they had lost him.

Days passed into weeks and I became more and more resigned to the fact that Matt was now dating Madison Beer and had completely forgotten me. Twenty-one days after he left, the phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. I jumped out of bed, ran to answer it, and heard his wonderful voice.

“Hi, Baby. How’s my Little Girl?”

“Oh, Matt, I’m fine,” I said. “Only I miss you so. I thought you had forgotten me. Everyone was saying you would.”

“I told you I’d call, y/nn,” he assured me.

“I know, Matt, but there were photographers here and reporters and they kept asking me questions, and—oh, Matt, is it true you’re seeing Madison Beer?”

“Hold it. Hold it! Slow down,” he said, laughing. “No it’s not true that I’m seeing Madison Beer.”

“But they said you were.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Little Girl. You’ll find people trying to stir up trouble, just to make you upset. She’s a friend, Baby, just a friend. I’m appearing on her father’s show, and it was all set up for her to be here at my press conference when I returned to the States. I miss you, Baby. I think about you all the time.”

After that first phone call, I spent all my time writing and rewriting letters to him, but he never wrote back. Then one day he called, sounding very excited.

“I’m leaving for California in two days, Baby. I’m starting my first movie since the Army.”

All I could think about was whether he’d fall in love with his costar. As casually as I could, I asked, “Who’s your leading lady?”

Matt burst out laughing. “You don’t have to worry, Baby, I haven’t met her yet, but I hear she’s real tall. Her name’s Juliet Prowse. She’s a dancer and she’s engaged to Frank Sinatra.”

Relieved, I asked, “What’s the name of the film?”

“Wouldn’t you know it,” he answered, “G.I. Blues. I think it’ll be pretty good. I’m a little concerned that there are too many songs in it, but I think it’ll work out. It had better, or I’ll have a few choice words to say.”

A few weeks later Matt called again. His enthusiasm for G.I. Blues had turned to bitter disappointment.

“I just finished looping the goddamn picture,” he said dejectedly. “And I hate it. They have about twelve songs in it that aren’t worth a cat’s ass,” he said angrily, and then added, “I just had a meeting with Colonel William about it. I want half of them out. I feel like a goddamn idiot breaking into a song while I’m talking to some chick on a train.”

“Well, what’d the Colonel say?” I asked.

“Hell, what could he say? I’m locked into this thing. Already been paid,” he complained. “They seemed to think it’s wonderful. I’m goddamn miserable.”

“Maybe the next one will be better,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, starting to calm down. “The Colonel’s requested better scripts. It’s just this is my first film since I’ve been back and it’s a joke.” There was a long pause as static filled the line. Finally Matt said, “I gotta go, y/nn, and I can barely hear you. I’ll call you soon, be good, I love you.”

I was living in a state of suspended life, waiting for Matt’s infrequent calls. There was never a pattern to them. He would phone out of the blue after three weeks—or three months. He always did most of the talking, chatting about his current film or his costar. Occasionally, he’d talk about Nicole, saying their relationship wasn’t what he had expected when he returned from the Army. He was no longer sure he wanted to be with her. I didn’t know where I stood. Time and distance had created doubts and questions; I wanted to ask him, “Where do I fit in your life? Or do I?”

Matt was still mentioning that he really wanted me to see Graceland, especially at Christmas, when it was its most beautiful. He said I’d meet Pauline, the maid. Matt called her Pauline VO5. He laughed and said, “I’ll tell her, ‘O Five, I’ve got a little girl I want you to meet.”

This gave me some hope of a future. I wanted to believe him when he said he still cared for me. But during the periods when I did not hear from him, I couldn’t help but doubt that I would ever see him again. I heard his latest hit record, “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame,” and felt sure that he’d fallen in love with a girl named Marie.

That summer, Paul Anka was on a European tour. He was to make a guest appearance at a nearby Air Force facility in Wiesbaden. I slyly arranged for my mother to drop me off at the time specified for his arrival. My intentions, unknown to her, were highly contrived and they had to do, strictly, with Matt. I wanted to ask him if by chance he knew Matt and if Matt had ever mentioned me. But when he got out of his car he was surrounded by fans, and I was too shy to push through the crowd to speak to him.

I gleaned every bit of news about Matt that I could. I listened constantly to the overseas radio and scanned every article in The Stars and Stripes newspaper. But each story about Matt I read only upset me all the more. Besides Nicole, he seemed to be romantically linked with many beautiful young starlets in Hollywood—Tuesday Weld, Juliet Prowse, and Anne Helm, among others.

I wrote him: “I need you and want you in every way and, believe me, there’s no one else . . . I wish to God I were with you now. I need you and all your love more than anything in this world.”

It was a cold, snowy day in March 1962, nearly two years since Matt had left Germany. In the late afternoon, I received a call from him. It had been months since we last spoke.

“I’d like to make arrangements for you to visit me in Los Angeles,” he said. “Do you think we can work it out?”

Stunned, I blurted, “What? I’m not sure. Oh God, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s going to take some time, some planning.”

I didn’t think my father could ever be persuaded to let me go. There were several phone calls with Matt trying to say all the right words to please my parents. I had separate talks with my mother, hoping she’d help me convince Dad.

Once again Matt met every one of Dad’s demands: that we wait until I was out of school for the summer, that Matt send me a first-class round-trip ticket, that he send my parents an exact itinerary of my daily activities for the two weeks I’d be in Los Angeles, that I be constantly chaperoned, and that I write my parents every day.

The next few months might as well have been years. I marked off each day on the calendar until we would be together.

Los Angeles

When the plane landed in Los Angeles, I found the terminal bustling with vacationing students. But I easily spotted Nate Doe, who was still working for Matt.

It was good to see Nate. His big smile and warm embrace were comforting. I loved hearing him tell me I looked great. I didn’t think I did. The last time Matt saw me, I had been fourteen years old and five pounds lighter. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he saw me, that he might send me home the next day.

I got my first glimpse of Los Angeles when we drove in from the airport. It was beautiful, a far cry from the drabness of postwar Germany. As we passed the MGM studios in Culver City, Nate said, “That’s where Matt films most of his movies.” Soon we were speeding along the legendary Sunset Strip and through the large wrought-iron gates of Bel Air. I was entering a world I’d never experienced. Every home along the winding road seemed grander than the one before.

We turned in at Matt’s house on Bellagio Road, a large home modeled after an Italian villa. We were greeted by Matt’s butler, who introduced himself as Arnold and said, “Mr. S is in the den.” As we walked through the door, I could hear loud music playing and people laughing. Nate led me downstairs.

Before entering, I took a deep breath. The years of waiting were now over.

In the dim light I saw people lounging on a couch and others standing over a jukebox, selecting songs. Then I spotted Matt, dressed in dark trousers, a white shirt, and a black captain’s hat. He was leaning over a pool table, ready to make a shot. I wanted to run to him, but this roomful of people was not the setting I had dreamed of for our first meeting. I continued to stand there, watching him.

He looked up and saw me and after a slight pause his face lit with a smile. “There she is!” he shouted, throwing down his cue stick. “There’s y/n!”

He made his way over to me, picked me up in his arms, and kissed me. I held onto him for as long as I could—until he put me down. “It’s about time,” he said, joking. “Where have you been all my life?”

Aware that every eye in the room was on us, I was uncomfortable and embarrassed. I quickly wiped the tears from my face before anyone noticed. Matt took my hand and introduced me around, and then we sat down together.

“Baby, I’m so glad you’re here,” he kept saying. “I can’t wait to show you around. You’ve grown up. You look great. Let me look at you. Stand up.”

As his eyes surveyed me, I became increasingly self-conscious, and I didn’t want him looking too long. He might find flaws.

He looked terrific, although I was surprised to see that the brown hair he’d had in the Army was now dyed black. He looked thinner, happier.

“Don’t go away,” he said. He kissed me lovingly, then returned to the pool table to finish his game. The night seemed to go slowlytoo slowly. While Matt continued his game a few of the girls eased their way over to me and started talking. They said Matt threw parties almost every night.

Hearing this and watching him as the night progressed, I felt out of touch with his new life, even though the girls told me he talked about me often and even showed my pictures around.

Playing pool, Matt laughed and joked around, and when one of the girls bent over the table to attempt a shot, Matt poked her in the backside with his pool cue. She shrieked in surprise and everyone laughed,everyone except me. I couldn’t help noticing that there had been a slight change in Matt. He’d left Germany a gentle, sensitive, and insecure boy; through the course of the evening I’d see that he now was mischievous and self-confident to the point of cockiness.

He also seemed quick to anger. When a girl cautioned him to watch out for a glass that was perched precariously on the edge of the pool table, he shot her a dirty look, as if to tell her, “Move the glass yourself.”

I felt a surge of uneasiness. I was unsure of what to do or say. Between shots he’d come over and give me an affectionate kiss, ask if I was all right, and then move back for his next shot. Meanwhile, the curious stares of his female admirers never left me.

It was after 12:30 a.m. when Matt finally sat down next to me. Now it was like the old days in Germany: He was suggesting that we go to his bedroom. “Up the stairs, the first door to your right,” he said. “The lights are on. I’ll be right up.” I started to rise. “Wait a few minutes, until I get up and leave,” he said. “That way it won’t look so obvious.”

I wasn’t sure if I liked that. I knew he was protecting me, but there were so many pretty girls around, I wanted to make sure everyone knew he was mine—at least for as long as I was here. I’d waited too long to be discreet. I got up, stretched a little, and politely said good night to everyone, hoping they would know exactly where I was going.

I ran up the stairs and easily found Matt’s bedroom. How different it was from his ordinary-looking quarters in Germany. I never imagined him living in such luxury—thick carpets, exquisite furnishings—but the room had a welcoming, lived-in feeling.

And then my eyes fell on the king-size bed in the middle of the room. I immediately thought of how many women might have slept there . . . whose bodies he had embraced. . . and even worse, whose lips had passionately pressed his and driven him to ecstasy. I couldn’t think about it anymore.

I walked over to the French doors, which overlooked the driveway, and saw Matt’s guests exchanging good nights as they got into their cars. Knowing he’d probably be coming up soon, I rushed into the large adjoining bathroom.

Within ten minutes, I had jumped in and out of the bathtub, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and dusted my entire body with some powder I’d found in the medicine cabinet. I put on my favorite blue pajamas and stood motionless before the door leading to the bedroom. I was so apprehensive that I was unable to open the door. This was the moment I had both longed for and feared. I sat down on a chair and remembered that when I’d been fourteen, Matt had said that I was “too young.” Now that I was sixteen I tried to imagine just what this new Matt, who I hardly knew at all, might be expecting of me.

About fifteen minutes later, I heard him as he opened the bedroom door, yelling down to his cousin, Billy Smith, who also worked for him: “Don’t let me sleep later than three tomorrow, Billy.” Then I heard him close the door, lock it, and call out, “Where are you, Baby?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” I shouted. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

“Don’t take too long. I want to see my girl.”

I still couldn’t move.

He called again: “What are you doing in there, y/nn? No one takes this long to get ready for bed.”

It was the moment of truth: Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked out. Matt was lying on the bed, facing me. I walked slowly toward him, climbed into the bed, and lay down next to him. Our faces were only inches apart. It was such an unexpected moment of tenderness that I was mesmerised looking into his eyes. We lay there for what seemed like a long time, staring at each other until our eyes filled with tears.

Matt softly touched my face. “God,” he whispered. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. You’ve been an inspiration to me. Don’t ask me why, but I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since I left you in Germany. It’s been the one thing that’s kept me going.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer: Tears streamed down my face. Matt took me in his arms and held me close, but I couldn’t get close enough. If I could have gotten inside him, I would have.

“It’s gonna be all right, Baby. I promise you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll have a good time and not think about you going back.”

As we lay in the dim light, he soon discovered that I was still as untouched as he’d left me two years before. Relieved and pleased, he told me how much this meant to him. It was as if every feeling I had as a woman began to emerge, and I began kissing him passionately. I wanted him—I was ready to submit entirely to him. He returned my passion. Then, abruptly, he stopped.

“Wait a minute, Baby,” he said, speaking softly. “This can get out of hand.”

“Is there anything wrong?” I was fearful that I wasn’t pleasing him. He shook his head, kissed me again, then gently put my hand on him so I could feel for myself just how much he desired me, emotionally and physically. He pressed his body to mine and it felt wonderful.

“Matt, I want you.”

He put his finger to my lips and whispered, “Not yet, not now. We have a lot to look forward to. I’m not going to spoil you. I just want to keep you the way you are for now. There’ll be a right time and place, and when the moment comes, I’ll know it.”

Although confused, I wasn’t about to argue. He made it clear that this was what he wanted. He made it sound so romantic, and, in a strange way, it was something to look forward to—just as he had said.

Later that night he told me that I had to stay with friends of his, George and Shirley Barris. Although I protested, Matt said, “I don’t want to go back on my promise to your father. Besides, if he found out you were staying with me, he’d make you go right home.” It didn’t make any sense, but I got out of bed and Matt had Nate drive me over to the Barrises’ house, where I would spend the night. Reluctantly.

Later I found out through one of the wives whom I had befriended the reason for my spending that first night with George and Shirley. Apparently Nicole had been sent back to Boston the day before, and Matt was taking precautions to avoid any awkward situations for himself that might have resulted from late-night phone calls.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - longer chapter to make up for the last shorter one🩷

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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wisteriadumster · 16 hours

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After Party ❥Arthur Morgan

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ Semi public sex ⋆ orgasm⋆ drinking ⋆

WC➻❥1700➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ After your father dragged to the mayor of Saint Denis’ party, you drunkenly but mostly soberly hook up with a Mr. Arthur Kilgore right outside in a carriage

A/N ➻❥ I didn’t think I would actually finish this but I’ve been on a writing groove lately so more fics to come hopefully

Do Not Steal Or Translate My Work!

You were at Mayor Lemieux’s garden party, your father had begged you to go, simply to find you a husband. You walked around, observing all the older men, did your father really think one of these men could sweep you off your feet?

“More wine?” A server came up to you, “oui, s'il vous plait” you set your glass on his tray, his other hand replaced your empty one with another glass, “merci.”

You examined the balcony, “important” men were staring back, one of them was Angelo Bronte. Your fathers most evil associate, you knew Mr.Bronte was nothing but a manipulative and greedy immigrant. You would beg your father to cut ties from Bronte but you were waved away every time.

“Ah there she is!” Your father wrapped his arm around your back, “oh Mayor Lemieux, what a party,” you smiled.

“Merci, are you enjoying the vin?” His voice seemed awkward, “why of course, you surely pick well.”

A small group had formed, your father refused to let you leave, in hopes you’d be attracted by these married “suitors.” A man that had been on the balcony joined the group, “Mayor, what a pleasure.” He clasped his hand with Lemieux’s glove, “are you enjoying yourself sir?” He cleared his throat against his accent, “it’s, different.” Perhaps your father was right to make you stay, “I haven’t seen you before.” Your father remarked, the man awkwardly laughed, “I’m an oil man out west, I’m visiting for business.”

“Well mister oil man would you mind grabbing a drink with me?” You unlocked your arm from your fathers. “I can’t deny a drink,” he smiled and began walking with you.

“Are you married mister?” You dragged, “Kilgore.” He answered, “I am a single man darlin’.”

You blushed and made it to the bar, “bonjour madame, monsieur,” the bartender grinned.

“Bonne soirée,” you greeted back, “I’ll have a glass of champagne, and for you Mister Kilgore?” He cleared his throat, “do you have whiskey?” Mr.Kilgore seemed nervous, “oh why of course monsieur!” The bartender gleamed, he set down the glass of champagne and began pouring the glass of whiskey.

“Merci beaucoup,” you cheered your class and stepped away from the bar. Mr.Kilgore set his hand on the bottom of your back as you navigated through the crowd.

With drinks in your system, you had been flirting with Mr.Kilgore the entire night, he wasn’t rejecting them either.

“What if we go somewhere, more private?” You giggle, “if we leave this party, you’re gonna love me tonight.” He remarked, “will you leave with me?” You advanced, he smirked and looked away from you, “are you sure about that darlin’?” His voice rasped, “I wouldn’t be asking now would I?”

You had both snuck just outside the mayor's home, an empty carriage sat just down the road. “What if we,” you hint as you slow at the carriage, “sweetheart that’s a bit risky now ain’t it?” He was hesitant, “well mister Kilgore, this whole ordeal is quite risky itself, I think it could be fun.” You smirk, your free hand opening the door,

Mr.Kilgore gently closed the door to the one bench carriage. It was small but how much room did you even need? Your ballgown surely didn’t fit within the confines of the carriage, but it didn’t matter, Mr.Kilgore would be tearing you out of it in a moment.

He scrunched his lips as he studied your dress, “oh don’t worry sir, it’s a simple one, just get the strings.” You had slipped in a rather simple ball gown, everything was already attached to the dress, the only thing you had to do was slip into it.

You turned yourself away from Mr.Kilgore, your back was touched by cold calloused hands as he worked through the tight strings.

“What’s your name Mister Kilgore?” You finally asked, you figured you should know the man’s name before he saw your bare body. “Arthur,” he pulled the final silk lace loose.

You took a deep breath as the constricting pressure released. You pushed the straps that laid on your shoulders, your breathing was heavy as Arthur’s hand hesitantly pulled on the fabric that covered you. “Are you sure about this?” He looked up from your cleavage, his eyes desperately searching your face for an answer, “absolutely.” You pulled on his bow tie, bringing him into a delicate and precise kiss. Your head was slightly cocked, your lips slowly connected, distracting you as Arthur’s hands meticulously removed your dress.

Your torso was exposed, the rest of your outfit was a large mass of blue that flooded the carriage.

You could feel your lipstick rubbing off against Arthur’s face, marking where your scandalous lips had touched.

“Darlin’ I need a bit of your assistance,” he pulled back, looking down at your body and the pestering ball gown. You did your best to stand in the cramped space, Arthur’s hands pushed the dress down your legs, revealing how carelessly you were dressed beneath your dress.

There was a moment, Arthur was quiet as he admired your body. You blushed at how vulnerable you had made yourself for a man you had only known for two hours.

You pulled on the buttons of Arthur’s dress shirt, “Mister Kilgore if you mind, I would like a chance to study your body.” You giggled.

You both tackled the suit that Arthur wore: removing his jacket, bow tie, and his white button up. His hand travelled around to it neck, touching the back of it before intertwining itself with your styled hair. He pulled you in for another kiss, his warm body touching against yours as your bodies shifted.

He was on top of you, his fingers squeezing and wondering over your breast. The kiss was hot and heavy; moments away from escalating to what you wanted.

He pulled back from the kiss, looking down as he directed his hand to his pants. You looked back up, fixated on his face.

He looked back to you, both of you making the same expression of shock as his cock pushed through, entering into your eager and wet pussy.

“Fuck,” you blurted as he continued to let himself fully fit. Arthur gritted his teeth and let out a groan as he adjusted himself.

His pace started slow, he analyzed you searching for the speed that pleased you best.

You gripped the back of the seat, your nails digging into the leather. Arthur was quiet with his groans, you could feel the hot air leave his nostrils as his chest rumbled.

“You like that sweetheart?” He asked, unsure of his next move. “Faster,” you mustered before wrapping a hand in his hair and pulling him into a kiss. Arthur obeyed the command and increased his pace, your skin smacking together a little harder.

You pulled at his short hair, moaning against his lips every time his tip hit exactly where it needed.

You pulled back from the ravenous kiss, “we should really get back to the party.” Anxiety had washed over you, what could your father be thinking right now, what if he needed you.

“Darlin’ I’ll do whatever you want,” he finished with a deep and aggressive thrust.

You practically belted out a moan at the sudden feeling, your hands gripping and digging into whatever they held onto.

The thrusts were delicate, Arthur slowly taking you through a growing climax. Arthur was nuzzled in your neck, kissing your fragile skin.

“I really think,” you sentence is cut by a moan. Every time you felt that you should really stop, your body would always react, begging to stay.

Your hands were travelling around his sculpted torso, taking in how his chest hair covered his body in a light layer. “Take a breath darlin’.” He smiled against your lips, you inhaled, deeply.

A hard thrust caused that air to come rushing back out, your nails to dig into his back, something you had only just started navigating.

A hot flash ran over you, your orgasm flowing throughout you. Your legs shook as the pleasurable feeling finally drained out of you.

You were panting hard, your body recovering from the surge of overstimulation.

Arthur pulled back from you, his body soaked in a layer of sweat, a combination of his and yours.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words were unable to process and come out.

“Best we should back, right sweetheart?” Arthur’s words pulled you out of the haze that he had put you in, as well as the alcohol in your system, if it hadn’t been sweated out.

“I suppose you’re right Mister Kilgore.” You sat up, your chest rising and lowering, synchronized with Arthur’s.

You searched through the sea of your ballgown, finding the corseted top.

You turned your back to Arthur, who was finishing the buttons of his dress shirt. “Do you mind?” You asked, “it ain’t gon’ to look pretty.” He admitted and grabbed the loose corset lace.

He pulled the final string tight and brushed your shoulders. “Would you like me to do your bow tie?” You turned, “nah, I think my outfit will do fine without it.” He tucked it inside his jacket coat.

As you stepped out of the carriage, cold and freeze air greeted your nostrils.

You looked back at the carriage, the mirrors were significantly fogged. You looked down the street, a man and woman watching from beneath the light of a streetlamp.

You embarrassing smiled, your face becoming flush in color.

You pulled your hair out of the now messed up-do.

You fluffed your hair with your fingers roughly, hoping the curls from the previous hairstyle could save your up kept look. “Darlin’ you look just fine,” Arthur looked at you, “are you sure?” You begged, Arthur stopped walking, holding your shoulders. “Sweetheart you look just as beautiful as when I first looked at ya.” A smile gently cracked from your worried frown.

“Now darlin’ would you like get back to that party?” He let go of your shoulders, his arm slowly jutting out. You interlocked your arm with his and continued your strut down the street back to the mayors house.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #writing #smut #wisteriadumster #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader

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kylermalloy · 2 years

Note

Last time, you mentioned how much you enjoy the next two episodes of TO (1x05 & 06). What would you say is the most outstanding moment in each episode?

Hi Christina! Naturally before answering this I had to watch these two episodes—and good thing too, I need to watch as much of this beautiful, stupid show as I can before it disappears from Netflix in like half a month. :’)

First of all, these episodes are fun because Elijah is back. Elijah adds something fundamental to the show and the cast that I can’t quite describe—gravity? That’s not it exactly. Idk. The klebekah episodes are fun but I always feel like they’re a prelude. Buckle up kids, Elijah’s back—this is where the story really starts.

Second, the music is amazing! Here are some of my favorites—special shout-out to the struggle because it’s just so peppy. You have to understand, when I watch tv, what I deem “good” is purely id-based. If it makes me feel good (good being subjective—it can mean I’m crying) then it is good. Hence, TO is my favorite show.

While we’re on music, the soundtrack when Davina is describing the harvest? Ugh. All the feels. This is what the show has been missing—child sacrifice! (I’m sorry. I’m sorry.)

All right. In all seriousness, there are so many good moments in these eps. Elijah’s standoff with Davina. I really did think he meant to help her, silly me! I was almost disappointed he didn’t, because…well, it would’ve been interesting for Elijah to have favor with her! Klaus and Rebekah didn’t exactly make good first impressions; it wouldn’t hurt for one original to be nice to her.

The whole harvest flashback, slowly peeling away the layers of horror one by one.

Elijah’s dramatic entrance while Klaus and Marcel argue. The music, the silly lines, the perfectly timed shove. It’s all so…Elijah. Love that ridiculous man.

Vampire book club, complete with poetry and pretentious music. The kitchen scene with some not-so-subtle flirting on Elijah’s part. Hayley wanting to eat ice cream for breakfast (such a small detail, but it says so much about her).

The pool scene where Elijah holds Hayley.

The standoff between Klaus and Marcel when Marcel reveals he’s been to the plantation—scheming and silent communication galore, but they’re all smiles and friendliness to each other.

I think my absolute favorite moment for these eps has to be a small scene between Rebekah and Elijah. After Hayley and the baby are saved, Elijah is going to find Klaus, and Rebekah announces that she’s leaving. It’s such a little scene, and yet…

Rebekah has gone through so much change. In the last five years (to her) she has lost her home, lost Marcel, and then lost Stefan. She lost trust in Klaus with the truth that he killed their mother. Lost trust in her mother when she came back to life and tried to kill them all. And now she’s losing Elijah, one of the only solid things left in her long life. It’s just sad, and I feel so sad for her. The fact that Elijah cares for her but not enough to drop everything for her like he did for Klaus. The fact that they’re both tied to this brother of theirs who puts them low (but still there) on his list of important things but is still outraged if they put him any lower on their lists. The fact that Rebekah doesn’t need anyone’s permission to go yet she still seeks out Elijah’s, and when she gets it, that makes her feel worse somehow—she’s not wanted, and he doesn’t want to go with her. (He invites her to stay, naturally, but he kisses her cheek and gently tells her “you are free.” She’s not.)

So that’s my fav moment from 1x06; I’d say my fav moment in 1x05 is the harvest flashback. The visceral horror of it. That’s what I’m here for! The people you love will hurt you the most. The call is coming from inside the house! As Elijah says, this is about family.

#hello my inbox has STUFF in it i’m panicking #i am slow but don’t worry i will answer things!#asks #whitedahlia13 #the originals #to 1x05 #to 1x06 #i know you asked for outstanding moments in each ep but come on. did you really expect me to just list one thing?#i can’t shut up and you know this #love you <3 thanks for the ask

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kafus · 1 year

Text

beginner’s guide to the indie web

“i miss the old internet” “we’ll never have websites like the ones from the 90s and early 2000s ever again” “i’m tired of social media but there’s nowhere to go”

HOLD ON!

personal websites and indie web development still very much exist! it may be out of the way to access and may not be the default internet experience anymore, but if you want to look and read through someone’s personally crafted site, or even make your own, you can still do it! here’s how:

use NEOCITIES! neocities has a built in search and browse tools to let you discover websites, and most importantly, lets you build your own website from scratch for free! (there are other ways to host websites for free, but neocities is a really good hub for beginners!)

need help getting started with coding your website? sadgrl online has a section on her website dedicated to providing resources for newbie webmasters!

HTML (HyperText Markup Language) and CSS (Cascading Style Sheets) are the core of what all websites are built on. many websites also use JS (JavaScript) to add interactive elements to their pages. w3schools is a useful directory of quick reference for pretty much every HTML/CSS/JS topic you can think of.

there is also this well written and lengthy guide on dragonfly cave that will put you step by step through the basics of HTML/CSS (what webpages are made from), if that’s your sort of thing!

stack overflow is every programmer’s hub for asking questions and getting help, so if you’re struggling with getting something to look how you want or can’t fix a bug, you may be able to get your answer here! you can even ask if no one’s asked the same question before.

websites like codepen and jsfiddle let you test HTML/CSS/JS in your browser as you tinker with small edits and bugfixing.

want to find indie websites outside the scope of neocities? use the search engine marginalia to find results you actually want that google won’t show you!

you can also use directory sites like yesterweb’s link section to find websites in all sorts of places.

if you are going to browse the indie web or make your own website, i also have some more personal tips as a webmaster myself (i am not an expert and i am just a small hobbyist, so take me with a grain of salt!)

if you are making your own site:

get expressive! truly make whatever you want! customize your corner of the internet to your heart’s content! you have left the constrains of social media where every page looks the same. you have no character limit, image limit, or design limit. want to make an entire page or even a whole website dedicated to your one niche interest that no one seems to be into but you? go for it! want to keep a public journal where you can express your thoughts without worry? do it! want to keep an art gallery that looks exactly how you want? heck yeah! you are free now! you will enjoy the indie web so much more if you actually use it for the things you can’t do on websites like twitter, instead of just using it as a carrd bio alternative or a place to dump nostalgic geocities gifs.

don’t overwhelm yourself! if you’ve never worked with HTML/CSS or JS before, it may look really intimidating. start slow, use some guides, and don’t bite off more than you can chew. even if your site doesn’t look how you want quite yet, be proud of your work! you’re learning a skill that most people don’t have or care to have, and that’s pretty cool.

keep a personal copy of your website downloaded to your computer and don’t just edit it on neocities (or your host of choice) and call it a day. if for some reason your host were to ever go down, you would lose all your hard work! and besides, by editing locally and offline, you can use editors like vscode (very robust) or notepad++ (on the simpler side), which have more features and is more intuitive than editing a site in-browser.

you can use ctrl+shift+i on most browsers to inspect the HTML/CSS and other components of the website you’re currently viewing. it’ll even notify you of errors! this is useful for bugfixing your own site if you have a problem, as well as looking at the code of sites you like and learning from it. don’t use this to steal other people’s code! it would be like art theft to just copy/paste an entire website layout. learn, don’t steal.

don’t hotlink images from other sites, unless the resource you’re taking from says it’s okay! it’s common courtesy to download images and host them on your own site instead of linking to someone else’s site to display them. by hotlinking, every time someone views your site, you’re taking up someone else’s bandwidth.

if you want to make your website easily editable in the future (or even for it to have multiple themes), you will find it useful to not use inline CSS (putting CSS in your HTML document, which holds your website’s content) and instead put it in a separate CSS file. this way, you can also use the same theme for multiple pages on your site by simply linking the CSS file to it. if this sounds overwhelming or foreign to you, don’t sweat it, but if you are interested in the difference between inline CSS and using separate stylesheets, w3schools has a useful, quick guide on the subject.

visit other people’s sites sometimes! you may gain new ideas or find links to more cool websites or resources just by browsing.

if you are browsing sites:

if the page you’re viewing has a guestbook or cbox and you enjoyed looking at the site, leave a comment! there is nothing better as a webmaster than for someone to take the time to even just say “love your site” in their guestbook.

that being said, if there’s something on a website you don’t like, simply move on to something else and don’t leave hate comments. this should be self explanatory, but it is really not the norm to start discourse in indie web spaces, and you will likely not even be responded to. it’s not worth it when you could be spending your time on stuff you love somewhere else.

take your time! indie web doesn’t prioritize fast content consumption the way social media does. you’ll get a lot more out of indie websites if you really read what’s in front of you, or take a little while to notice the details in someone’s art gallery instead of just moving on to the next thing. the person who put labor into presenting this information to you would also love to know that someone is truly looking and listening.

explore! by clicking links on a website, it’s easy to go down rabbitholes of more and more websites that you can get lost in for hours.

seeking out fansites or pages for the stuff you love is great and fulfilling, but reading someone’s site about a topic you’ve never even heard of before can be fun, too. i encourage you to branch out and really look for all the indie web has to offer.

i hope this post helps you get started with using and browsing the indie web! feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any questions or want any advice. <3

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frenziedfireworks · 7 months

Text

First Time

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary : You've been trying to figure out how to bring up sex to your boyfriend..

CW : SMUT, 18+, virgin!reader, fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, nervous/awkward reader, praise, creampie

A/N : I am sorry I am a few days behind on kinktober! I am working on all the stories now and hopefully posting them soon! I've not been feeling amazing.

masterlist

Fred was an amazing boyfriend. He respected your boundaries and only wanted you to feel safe with him. The two of you hadn’t even brought up the topic of sex despite being together for a few months now. Lately however, you had been thinking of it quite a lot. It didn’t help that every time he got back from quidditch practice all sweaty it made you.. horny.

You squirmed against Fred’s bed as you listened to him talk about some ‘wonderful plan’ Wood had come up with. Frankly you couldn’t pay attention as your eyes wandered his bare chest and your nervous thoughts arose again. Did you want to ask? Would he laugh at you for being so inexperienced? You didn’t know.

“Love, are you even listening?” Fred laughed as he turned to face you, throwing his dirty clothes in his hamper. You shook your head and smiled.

“Yeah Fred, sorry. Just got a bit distracted.”

Fred’s eyebrow raised as he walked closer, his hand rubbing up and down your arm.

“Is something wrong? Do I need to prank someone?”

You couldn’t help but snort at the last part.

“No Fred. Nothing bad.”

“Then what was it dear? Just admiring your handsome, amazing, gorgeous boyfriend?” Fred teased as he struck a pose. You rolled your eyes as you held back your true answer.

“Oh of course. Don’t forget humble too.”

“Oh yes. I am quite humble aren’t I?” Fred grinned as he leaned in to steal a quick kiss. Your hands tangled against his locks and he groaned against your lips. The kiss became more heated, both of you laying against the bed as your tongues brushed past eachother. Fred, ever so respectful, kept his hands on your arms. As much as you felt honored by his movements you couldn’t help but get a little annoyed. Did he not want you? No.. you were just overthinking.

Fred moved back, brushing his hand against your cheek.

“Darling, something is bothering you. You might as well tell me. Then neither of us have to worry.”

You bit your lip as you thought about how to word it. Your stomach churned at the thought of embarrassment and how he would respond. You knew him better than to expect something bad but it still was.. nerve racking.

“Well.. I just. Do you ever think about sex?” You blurted out and automatically wanted to smack yourself. Way to be subtle..

Fred’s smile turned into a smirk, his hands dusting your shoulders.

“Is someone horny? Is that what’s wrong?”

You could feel your face burn as you looked anywhere but him. Fred’s hand rubbed at your cheek redirecting your eyes back to his.

“You don’t need to be nervous, love. It’s a normal thing. If I was wrong you can tell me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Fred’s voice was calm, his eyes softening with affection. You couldn’t help but feel the urge grow stronger at his care.

“I-I.. You’re right. I am just really nervous.”

“About what?” Fred placed a few smooches against your jaw as he worked his hand down your arm.

“I’ve never done this before Fred..”

Fred’s smile grew larger at your words as he pulled you closer.

“And you want it to be with me? I’m honoured. I’ll be gentle if this is what you want..”

You could only nod and Fred took it as a sign to move. His lips pressed into yours again, starting the kiss out slow. Your need overpowered his soft urges and you deepened the kiss, your hands roaming down his chest. You pushed yourself against his form and let out a moan as his hands trailed across your ass.

“Can I touch you?” Fred whispered as he stalled his hands around your waistband. Your breaths were harsh as you felt your core pulse.

“Yes Fred.. Please.”

Fred’s hands were quick to action, helping you to shimmy your pants down. You could feel yourself growing nervous under his gaze. He rubbed your thighs, leaning down to kiss on the insides of them.

“You’re gorgeous. I love you.. All of you.” Fred licked at the skin and pulled, making you gasp in surprise. He chuckled against you as his fingers rubbed over the wet spot on your panties, making your legs wrap tightly around his shoulders.

“So responsive.. I bet you taste even better.” Fred continued his pats to your thigh as he pushed your underwear to the side. You shivered at the cold air against your moist core, turning your face away from the erotic sight. It was nerve racking and hot at the same time.

“Darling have you fingered yourself before?” Fred questioned as his fingers ran up and down your folds. Your mind was so distracted you could barely take in his words.

“Y-Yes..” You stuttered out as his thumb circled your nub, already making you clench.

“What a good girl. I’m going to use a finger to prep you.. Alright? You just relax and enjoy it.” Fred continued his ministrations to the outside of your pussy for a bit before he deemed it ‘good enough’. You felt his digit tease at your hole, your eyes tightening together as you desperately awaited.

“Relax, it’s not going to hurt you.” Fred chuckled as his finger continued to circle and you groaned.

“I’m not scared.. I just want it.” Your words seemed to shock Fred as his eyes went wide before a wicked smirk appeared on his face.

“You want it, yeah? I’ll give you it, baby.” Fred’s fingers finally took the plunge, making you throw your head back in pleasure. He pumped them in slowly, letting you adjust before he picked up the pace.

“Feel good? You look like you taste amazing..” Fred whispered out, his face getting closer and closer to your cunt. You felt your body jerk as the realization of what he was about to do dawned on you.

“Fred.. You don’t want to put your mouth there.” You felt yourself burn and tighten around his finger, your body wracked with apprehension.

“Oh but doll.. I do.” Fred gave you another look to make sure you were fine with it before his mouth closed against you. Your hands grasped at his hair as your cunt spasmed at the new sensation. It was all so much, his finger, his tongue, his watchful eyes.

“Fred I’m gonna..” You choked out, your body just a few seconds from flying over the edge. Fred just nodded as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“Cum for me.”

You did as you were told, falling apart against his mouth. His tongue lapped at your juices making you jump at the sensitivity. Fred stood up as he stripped most of his clothes, leaving him in just boxers. He sat down next to you, rubbing at your torso with a wide smile.

“Are you still sure about everything? We can just leave it there if you feel nervous. I am so proud of you darling..”

You shook your head. There was no going back now and you definitely didn’t want to. Even after already finishing you could feel the desperation in you beginning to ramp up again. Your eyes wandered along the tent in his underpants before looking back up to him.

“No.. I want you Fred.” You leaned in to kiss him, your hands mimicking what he did to you. He hummed at your actions and began to help with the fabric confinement in the way. You pulled back and watched as his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach. The tip was an angry shade of red and dripped with precum. You could feel yourself gush at the sight, a sudden urge to lick at the slick filling your mind.

“You like what you see?” Fred laughed as he pulled your legs apart, slipping between them. His cock nudged at your folds and you felt yourself shake with anticipation. This was it.

“Do it…” You choked out, tired of how slow he was going. You appreciated his care but now the need in you was growing far too strong. So strong that it outweighed any anxious thoughts you once had minutes ago.

“As you wish.” Fred slowly began to enter you, your body tensing at the harsh feeling. Your eyes watered a bit as he continued, trying your best to adjust. Fred took notice of your discomfort, his thumb beginning to circle around your pulse point.

“There there darling. It’ll feel good soon I promise.”

It took a while before your body got used to the intrusion and you nodded for him to move. He began to thrust shallowly in and out of you, watching to make sure you were alright. The more movement he made the more you got used to it, slowly feeling the sharp pains turn to ones of pleasure.

“Oh..” You gasped as he bottomed out and Fred took notice of the change. He smirked and began to thrust harder, your mind going dumb with ecstasy.

“That feel good? Your pretty pussy feels good around my cock. Squeezing me so damn hard.. I don’t think I’m gonna last too long.”

Your lips mumbled out incoherent yeses as he continued to gain speed, pushing you deeper against the mattress. You could feel the string in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your eyes meeting his with a plea.

“F-fuck. Cum for me.. I love you.” Fred’s thrusts became sloppy as you peeked, your cunt spasming against him, your legs locking him in place.

“Fred-” You gasped as you felt his hot seed fill up inside of you, his head falling against your shoulder as he came.

Slowly he pulled out and fell next to you in bed. You rubbed at his sweaty cheek, moving a bit of hair off his forehead as you both shared a sweet kiss.

“I love you Fred.” You whispered out.

“I love you too Y/N. I hope I made your first time special.” Fred pulled you against his chest and you listened to his heartbeat. You felt full and satisfied. Not only did you not have to overthink anymore but you would remember this moment forever.

“You did. Thank you.”

#fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader smut #weasley twins #weasley twin imagines #weasley twins smut #harry potter #harry potter imagines

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 9 months

Text

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

#dean winchester x you #the winchester brothers #dean winchester x reader #spn sam winchester #dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #sam x sister!reader #supernatural sam #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural dean #supernatural

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alotofpockets · 3 months

Text

Mini mate | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Katie meets your kid for the first time, and they have an instant connection.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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You were falling for Katie more and more after every date you had been on together. Besides her busy schedule, and your life with a toddler, you have managed to go on quite a few dates over the past two months. When you told her you had a child, and wanted to take things slow, she understood and respected that right away. Overall Katie had been great, and you loved the time you got to spend together.

Today you were out for lunch with your now girlfriend of a week, while your next door neighbour watched your son. Being a single mother, without any support from your family was hard in the beginning, but when Linda from next door had found out you were raising your boy alone, she had offered to watch him as often as she could. She was retired, and loved children. You had found a quick friend in the older woman, and honestly she was a lifesaver.

You were a couple bites into your lunch when your phone rang, you looked down at the screen and saw your neighbour's name on the screen. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It could be about Jake.” Katie nods, “Yeah, of course.” You pick up the call, “Hi Linda, is everything okay?” On the other side of the line Linda responds, “Yes dear, little Jakey is doing just fine, don’t you worry. It’s just that I am afraid that I have double booked myself sweetheart, I have to be somewhere in half an hour, and I’m afraid I can’t take him with me.” You relax your shoulders when you realise that your son is alright. “Alright, I will be right there then. Thank you for calling.” Katie had already flagged down a waiter to pack your food as doggy bags. “My neighbour got something mixed up, so I have to go pick up Jake. I’m sorry for having to cut our date short.” She shook her head in response, “Don’t worry about it, darling. The waiter is just bagging up our food, and then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

On the way home you were thinking how kind, and understanding Katie had been, something you weren’t all that used to. Your heart only warmed at the way she had treated you, which got you thinking. “How would you feel about meeting Jake?” You asked when you were almost back to your place. “I would love to meet him, but only if you’re ready for me to. There is no rush on my end.” Her answer made you smile, she was always making sure you were okay. “Yeah, I am.”

Katie parks the car, and the two of you walk into your home. After putting away your lunch in the fridge you walk up to Katie. “Do you mind waiting here for a moment, while I pick him up? I want to give him a little heads up that someone else will be at home.” Again Katie was very understanding, and told you it was all good. So, you head next door. “Hi sweetheart.” Linda greets you when she opens the door. “Again, I am so sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your date with the lovely lady.” You shake your head at the woman, “No need to apologise, I promise. And the lovely lady is actually sitting on the couch, waiting to meet Jake.” Linda brings you in for a hug, “Oh dear, I am so happy for you.” Linda had been a close friend of yours over the years, and had heard all about your growing liking of the woman you had been dating.

You put Jake down, and start walking around to gather his stuff. “Did you have fun with Linda?” He nodded his head excitedly, he had been doing that a lot recently, and you loved his new adorable habit. “I play twains!” You sit him down on the couch, to put his shoes on. “That’s great baby, I’m glad you had fun.” You placed a kiss on his forehead once both his shoes were on. “There is someone waiting at home that I would love for you to meet. Are you ready to go?” He nodded again. “Okay, let's go then.”

Once Linda lets go of you, you hear little footsteps running your way. “Mommy.” The boy says full of excitement, he keeps running and jumps into your arms. “Hi kiddo, I missed you.” You pepper his cheeks with kisses. A car horn sounds outside, “Sorry honey, I have to leave, can you close up when you leave?” You nod, “Thank you, Linda. Have a good day!”

With Jake's hand in yours, you enter your home. Having Katie meet Jake was a big deal, and you were slightly nervous. You really liked Katie, and her and Jake getting along was very important to you.

Katie was sitting on the couch, and waved to Jake who was shyly hiding behind your leg. “Hi buddy, my name is Katie.” Her kind smile, and soft voice made Jake move out from behind you. “Hi Kawie” Your heart melted at the way he pronounced her name. Jake let go of your hand and walked towards Katie, holding his bunny up to her. “What a cute bunny you have there, buddy. What's your bunny's name?” He hugged the bunny to his chest again, “Benny.” Katie smiled, “Benny the bunny, I like that.”

The boy yawned, and started rubbing his eyes. “Hey kiddo, it's nap time. Can you pick out a book?” Your home was full of books for the toddler, and you loved giving him the freedom of choosing which story you would read before bed. He came back with a book in one hand and his bunny in the other, and walked straight up to Katie. “This one pwease.” Your fears of the two not getting along instantly fade away, when you see him reach up his arms for Katie to pick him up. She sat him on his lap and started reading the book to him, pointing at all the animals the book talked about. You snapped a quick picture, while watching the heartwarming scene in front of you.

When you came back downstairs after putting Jake down, Katie had plated your packed lunches from the restaurant, and had set the table. “You are amazing,” You say when her eyes meet yours. “and you were so great with him.” A tear escaped your, and you quickly wiped it away, but Katie had noticed. “Come here, darling.” She brings you in for a hug, and rubs her hand over your back soothingly. “I'm sorry, I've just been so worried about the two of you not getting along, and seeing him just walk up to you with his book, that meant so much.” She smiles and moves you so she can look at you. “Don't you ever apologise for that. You are a great mom, and I am so grateful that you wanted me to meet him.”

While Jake was down for his nap, you and Katie settled on the couch, cuddled up together while watching some TV. That was until you heard Jake start talking over the babyphone, letting you know that he woke up from his nap. You place a kiss on Katie’s lips before you get up. “I'll be right back.”

“Kawieee” Your son runs to her the moment he notices that she is still there. She picks him up and twirls him around, “Hi my mini mate, did you have a good nap?” He does his excited nodding, as a response, and giggles when Katie tickles his belly.

“Mini mate?” You ask once she has put him in his highchair for his post nap snack. “Yeah I call all my friend's mate, so he's my mini mate.” You laugh, “It's cute. I like it.”

Katie came over more often after that, the bond between the two of them only started to grow, and you couldn't help but fall in love with Katie over the next few weeks. Katie would be staying the night for the first time, you had stayed the night at her place before, but never at your place with Jake at home too. Jake was actually over the moon that Katie would be able to read his nighttime story, and help tuck him in.

Once you got back downstairs you plopped down on the couch. Katie had gotten Jake a small Arsenal ball, and the three of you had been kicking it around in the backyard for a good part of the afternoon, so you were pretty tired. “You know how I was so worried for the two of you not to get along?” Katie moves her fingers through your hair and hums. “Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. He really loves you, you know?” She nods, noticing that you weren't done with what you were wanting to say. “I do too. Love you, I mean.” You were getting nervous, and messing up what you wanted to say, so you started again. “I love you Katie.” She smiles and moves her hand to your cheek. “I love you too y/n.” She pulls you in closer and kisses you. The kiss was soft, but at the same time it was filled with passion.

A few weeks later you found yourself in the stands at Meadow Park along with Jake and Linda, cheering on Katie for the first time. Before the match started Katie had found you in the crowd and waved in your direction. Jake started excitedly waving back once you pointed her out.

You had watched Katie play on TV a couple of times since you had started dating, but never before had you experienced the game in such an environment. The crowd cheered and sang chants the whole time, it was truly amazing how much support the team got.

Arsenal won the match, and after she finished signing jerseys and posters, and taking pictures with fans, she made her way over to you. “You played so well. Good job captaining the team!” She brought you into a hug. “Thank you baby.” She hugged Jake next, and lastly she greeted Linda with a hug as well. “Kawie.” Jake said, making grabby hands towards her. She takes him from where you were holding him on the railing, “Did you and Benny like the football match?” Jake hugs Benny tight to his chest, “Yesss.” He adorably drags out the ‘s’.

“Katie!” Is being called from behind her, “Katie, can you come here for a moment?” Katie sends her teammate a thumbs up, letting her know that she would be right there. “Duty calls.” She tries to hand Jake back to you, but he holds on tight. “Mini mate, I have to go for a bit, but I promise I will be right back.” She tries again, but to no avail. “Me with Kawie.” Katie looks up to you, “Do you mind if I take him with me on the pitch?” You shake your head, “Go for it. Jakey, listen very well to Katie, okay?’ You ruffle his hair before you let them go, and start your conversation with Linda back up. “You found a good one, honey, I can see how much she loves the both of you just from her eyes.” You blush at her words, she had always been very truthful with her words, even when they weren’t what you wanted to hear, so hearing her say that meant a lot.

The team was waiting for Katie to do their post match team huddle to recap on the match through the eyes of Jonas. Once Katie joined, Jonas started talking right away, so no one had time to question Katie joining the huddle with a kid on her hip. At the end of the speech, Katie was the one to announce, “Team on three.” After which everyone put their hands in the middle, Jake wanted to join and put his hand on top of the rest of the girls. “Team!” The group said before moving out again. Though, some of the girls stick around. Katie was tickling Jake’s belly, pulling loud giggles from the toddler's mouth. “Who is this little guy?” Viv asked, tickling the boy’s belly as well. “This is my mini mate. Can you tell Viv your name, buddy?” The boy was loving all the attention. “Jake.” Katie smiles and holds her hand up to give him a high five, “Good job, buddy.” She then moves her focus back to her teammates surrounding her, “He’s my girlfriend's kid.” This piqued the interest of her teammates even more. “Your girlfriend is here?” Beth asked, and Vic quickly followed with, “Can we meet her?”

You watched from the stands as Katie was twirling Jake around, and walking back towards you with a few of her teammates. “Hi darling, they wanted to come meet you. This is Viv, Beth, and Vic.” She introduced them one by one. “It’s very nice to meet you, and good game by the way.” Katie sets Jake down on the ground, and starts softly kicking a ball to him, like you had done together in the backyard. He was loving all the attention he was getting from the girls, while you were getting to know Katie’s teammates.

Katie had often talked about her teammates being like family, and the way they were interacting with your son, made you see that right away. You looked at the group of girls playing with him, and the big smile on his face, and in that moment you realised that your little family was going to be expanding over the next couple of months, in the form of lots of aunties.

Jake was happily running around with Beth and Viv, a few steps away from you, when Katie joined you, both keeping an eye on the little boy. “What are you thinking, darling?” She says while wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Just that I love you, and seeing him happy means the world to me.” You both smile at the giggling toddler. “I love you too. Beth and Viv asked if the three of us would like to join them for dinner tonight.” Katie turns to Linda, “You were invited too, of course, I just know you already have plans tonight.” Linda waves her off, “Don’t worry about me, honey, you kids have fun.”

Katie kisses you before she heads down to the locker rooms, “I’ll see at the car.” You walk out of the stadium with Jake on your hip and Linda by your side. “Did you have fun, little Jakey?” Linda asks. His excited nods once again making an appearance. “Kawie and Beffy and Vivi play ball.” His pronunciation of their names brings a smile to your face. “Guess what kiddo, we’re going to see them later too.” His eyes widen before he hugs his body closer to yours, which you took as a sign that he was excited for it too.

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#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women #arsenal wfc

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ragingbookdragon · 4 months

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Hanging By A Moment

Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs

Word Count: 940 Warnings: None

Author's Note: I love TF so much. I miss it all lol -Thorne

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Ironhide:

“This is…different,” she notes as she arrives into the darkened field; the veil of the moon blankets the land in an ivory haze, yet Ironhide’s sleek body is visible from even the edge. It’s remote enough that they don’t have to worry about being seen; she nears him with a curious look on her face. “Ironhide?”

His tailgate lowers and with a surprised expression that quickly gives way to a pleasant smile, she climbs onto the back, kicks her shoes off, and lays down on the makeshift bedding, resting her head on the pillow.

“Did you do this all for me?” she asks. “Aren’t you so sweet underneath all that firepower.”

“Have to treat my best girl, don’t I?” Ironhide teases back. “You’ve been working awfully hard lately. Even I know to take a break once in a while.”

She hums and curls into the blankets, almost feeling like they’re keeping warm and toasty. “No rest for the wicked, Ironhide. The Decepticons won’t wait while I rest.”

He grumbles, deep and low, and she can’t help but laugh. “Then you’ll rest, and I’ll kick ass.”

“Okay, bud,” she jokes, resting her head back on the pillow. “Take care of me while I rest.”

***

Rachet:

“When I said I wanted to spend some time alone with you, Rachet…this isn’t necessarily what I meant.”

His frame rumbles as he slows to a stop on the side of the canyon. “I can turn around, if you’d like?”

“You better not,” she warns and points a finger at the steering wheel. “You promised to take me out to the stars.”

She can hear the smile in his hum as he starts driving again. “When you mentioned you’ve always wanted to see the stars up close, I figured this would be the best I could give you.” He shifts back the roof, and her eyes widen at the expanse of bright stars above her.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, unable to help but stand up in the front seat, rising out of the rooftop. “Rachet, it’s…it’s incredible.”

He slows to a stop at the edge and stills. “It’s almost as incredible as you are. But somehow, their brightness can’t even come close to how beautiful you shine.”

Slipping back into the seat, she reaches forward and gently presses her lips to his steering wheel. “Thank you, Rachet. For doing this for me…for us.”

***

Bumblebee:

It’s almost one AM by the time they make it back into the city. Eerily enough, the roads are almost empty, and Bumblebee has a straight shot back to the facility, but he passes the particular highway that leads to it.

She notices from her sleepy haze in the passenger seat. “Bee? You missed the turn.”

He makes a noise that she recognizes as his answer of “Yes.”

“Where are we going?” she’s not worried in the slightest, knows that Bumblebee wouldn’t ever take her somewhere she could get hurt; she’s still curious though.

“Don’t worry about it,” a voiceover from a TV show filters through and she snorts tiredly.

“Alright, Bee, keep your secrets.” She shifts in his seat and reclines back, unable to help but trace the threading in the console. “You takin’ me home, Bee?”

“Take me home tonight!” he sings, and she smiles, gently shutting her eyes as the streetlights still shine across her face as they pass between shadows.

“I’m happy, Bee,” she murmurs. “You know that? I’m always happy with you.”

He’s silent for a long while and she wonders if maybe he didn’t hear her, but it doesn’t bother her as she curls up in the passenger seat and begins to drift off, only to hear quietly through the speakers, “I’m living for the only thing I know. I’m running and not quite sure where to go. And I don’t know what I’m diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you.”

***

Optimus:

“Sorry about the rain, Optimus,” she murmurs as they take shelter in the rundown warehouse. “I can’t imagine it’s going to let up…we’ll be here for a while.”

She watches as steam begins to flow from his body, fans in his processors blowing until the water is simply droplets here and there.

“That’s handy,” she jokes, and he meets her gaze with a smile.

“While rust isn’t a big a worry to myself as it is Ironhide, I’d rather not take any chances.”

She nods and takes off her jacket, wringing it out. “It’ll be dark soon. We should set up a perimeter.” The echoing of his transformation sounds in the warehouse, and she looks up. “Optimus?” His door opens and closes a few times until she gets the hint to climb in.

As she enters, the cab opens, and she slips further inside. It’s smaller than she imagined, given that outside he’s much larger but she assumes he’s somehow made some room for her. It’s a small bedding, smaller than a door, but enough that she can curl up on it, propping her arm under her head. She’s about to say it’s cold when the fans blow again and fill the cab with a warmth that feels like she wrapped herself in a blanket straight out of the drier.

And he knows it too as he asks, “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” she murmurs and scoots back until her back is against the wall of his cab; it feels good to have him at her back, safe and secure. “I think I could lie here forever.”

“When there is peace, my spark,” he says. “We will lie forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” and she knows his words ring with truth.

#transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #bayverse transformers x reader #transformers x reader #ironhide x reader #ironhide #rachet x reader #rachet #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #optimus x reader #optimus #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime #transformers

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 11 months

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Had to split the last chapter into 2 separate ones bc i got a bit overzealous with this one... so here’s chapter 3! may be a longer bit before 4′s ready, but Enjoy! [tw: blood, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ death/ survivors guilt]

Ch1 Ch2

Tsunade: Enter. Kks: Mornin’. Tsunade: Kakashi. I got your message. So, Gai made it out of the coma, huh. I’ll go see how his condition is when I’m done here. Kks: I’m sure he’ll love that, but that’s not why I’m here. Tsunade: Are you looking for work? I can assign you-. Kks: More of a discussion. About the hokage thing.

Tsunade: Are you finallt giving me an answer? Kks: Yup. I’m saying no. I’m not interested. However, if there is truly no one else, I have a compromise if you’re interested.

Tsunade:It’d better be a good deal, brat. The council won’t be happy with this. You were about to accept months ago. Why say no now? Kks: Alot’s changed since then.

Gai: Papa

[gai sighs] [window sliding]

Kks: Yo. Gai: Rival!! Happy to see you! Kks: I see you’ve had visitors

Gai: Yes! I am so lucky and moved! Especially from our students! Kks: How are you feeling? Gai: Sore. Stiff. But much better than this morning. [kks hums] Kks: Sorry I took so long. Got caught up. Gai: Nonsense! I was honored to wake up to see both of your beautiful eyes first thing. You look so youthful! You left in such a hurry, you left your shoes. Kks: Yeah, had a soggy walk to my apartment. Can’t return those slippers now. Gai: How are /you/ feeling?

Gai: You seemed so overwhelmed and I couldn’t move. I feel like i’ve missed so much. Kks: I’m ok now. Just needed some air. Plus, sorted some things I’d been neglecting. I knew you’d be flooded with visitors. So, I stayed out of the way. Gai: Pretty cool response per usual. Kks: I think you’re pretty cool

Kks: How long are you stuck here? Did they say? Gai: A few weeks. Most of it depends on the physical therapy progress. My chakra network is fried. It’ll be slow to heal if at all. They’ve never treated my condition before, so the doctors are not sure what’ll happen

Kks: Did Tenten tell you about her plans? Kankuro even offered his experience building a prosthetic. Gai: Yes. She was very excited. Kks: /You/ don’t seem as enthused. What’s bugging you? you’re usually delighted by your team’s passion or whatever. Gai: I am truly touched because I know she’ll give it her all, but...

Gai: It won’t make a difference. Kks: What did the doctor say? Gai: Even if I can stand or walk, I’ll have lasting damage and pain. I’ll need a wheelchair the rest of my life. My time as an active duty shinobi is done.

Kks: You’ll get through this. Gai: What am I going to do, ‘Kashi? Kks: You’re stubborn enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way to prove them wrong. Like walking on your hands or something. You’ll be a menace in a wheelchair in no- Gai: I do not want you or my students burdened by my injury

Kks: That’s what you’re worried about? You think mourning you would have been any easier on anyone? You’re more to them than just a teacher. If you could have Dai back right now, wouldn’t you want that? Gai: Of course I would. Kks: Then see it from their perspectives. Don’t just lie down and accept this is how your life ends. That’s not how Dai raised you.

Kks: This is terrifying to deal with, Gai, It’s ok to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t give up. I won’t let you. Gai: I was prepared to die Kks: ...I’ve understood wanting to be dead for a long time. I get it. Gai: I do not regretn my decision at all. Regardless, I’ve hurt you the most. I know you’re angry.

Kks: I won’t lie to you. I am angry. Extremely. But I’ve wasted so much time pushing you away already. I don’t want to waste anymore time we have left. The only consistent thing in my life has always been you. I’ve said horrible things to you, and you never abandoned me. I think all the time about how I would have turned out if you didn’t keep me human. Self sacrifice seems to be something we have in common. Neither of us were meant to be without the other apparently... We’ve both been brought back from death. So maybe it’s...

Baby gai: You’re my eternal rival... My man of- Kks: Destiny

Kks: Strongesttaijutsu master who ever lived. My eternal rival. My man of destiny. I’m so happy you’re alive

[gai crying]

[Gai sobbing/crying]

#kakagai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #everyone p much lmao #my art #//blood #//mentions of suicidal thoughts

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SEVENTEEN

in which you watch a movie about dragons with eddie, but there's something deeper beneath the surface to battle. to train. to tame.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 3.7k+

→ a/n: omg they still haven't slept they're just like me fr <3 thank you for all the kindness and endless patience you have all had with this story, and for sticking around for the ride. deftones scene that has haunted me for months now will be next hour! and the return of the gc! see y'all next week (maybe)

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

17:00 ─────────ㅇ───── 24:00

HOUR SEVENTEEN - 8:00 AM

“Are you crying right now?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh my God, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Eddie, those are goddamn tears on your cheeks-”

“Oh, fuck off!”

The credits for How To Train Your Dragon roll as background noise to your bickering.

“It’s okay to admit that you were, y’know,” you coo as you lean across the spanse of both your laps, moving to pinch at his cheek as he leans back and moves it further out of your reach, “It’s a very moving ending.”

You’d situated yourself at one end of the couch when you two returned inside, while Eddie had seated himself on the opposite end. Initially, you’d been disappointed, worried about that sudden distance. But the distance disappeared rather quickly as Eddie had fully turned his body, back against the armrest and legs spread out of that empty space, and encouraged you to do the same. A messy entanglement of knees and ankles and calves all pressed together, touching at every interval possible. Anywhere your leg could manage to graze his, it was. A plethora of gentle and minuscule touches, all adding up to something bigger – something that still grows in your chest amongst the vines and beneath his waves.

It was the very thing that made this easy. It wasn’t awkward, neither of you seemed uncomfortable given that the last time you’d used this couch, it had been in very delicate and very different circumstances.

It was all part of being his friend. You were Eddie’s friend.

“Don’t be so condescending,” Eddie’s scowl is adorable, tugging on every infantile bloom gathered on the greenery in your chest.

Boundaries. Your lungs and your vines and your bones had found respectable boundaries amongst themselves, and it was finally easier to breathe around Eddie again.

“I’m not!” you shift your legs, sliding your bare skin against that of his flannel pajamas. He’s quick to wrap a hand around your ankle, thumb pressing into the hard bone as if he’s scared you’re about to run from him again. You’re not; you’re not sure how to convince him, but you can’t imagine there’s anything he could tell you now to send you running once more, “I liked the movie, Eddie. It was… it was really good.”

You’re a terrible liar. You can’t remember half the movie. All you can remember is the way Eddie would animatedly add commentary for you, how there had been a point in the movie the two of you paused for nearly fifteen minutes for him to go on a ramble of his explanation as to why he’d named his bike Nightfury (as if it hadn’t been obvious from the way his face lit up the moment Toothless appeared on screen). All you can remember is how you only wished the movie would never end, so the look on his face would never fade.

“Tell me your favorite scene,” he demands with a knowing smirk. He knows you didn’t pay attention.

“You know…” you pause, racking your brain for a single scene to mention, “The… one…”

“Go on,” he scoots his heels back towards him, elevating his knees so he can prop his elbows up on them and cradle his face mockingly, acting completely enthralled by whatever your answer may be, “The one…?”

You panic, blurting out, “The one with the dragon.”

You miss the pressure of his thumb on your bones. A physical reminder of his grip on you, not just all mumbled metaphorical ones that now reside in you.

“Half the movie was scenes with a dragon.”

“The one where he’s training the dragon.”

That earns a cackle from him. One that pulls from his chest, sends him leaning back from his sarcastic pose and makes him squint his eyes until crinkles appear beside them. You almost consider counting each laugh line, but just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared.

“Awesome,” he breathes out, stretching his legs out, bumping them back against yours once more, “So specific. You should really be a professional movie critic, you know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod giddily, “Feast your eyes, pretty boy. The next Robert Ebert in the making.”

He’s red. Terribly, terribly red. It’s not a surprise he fights fire with fire as he replies, “Sweetheart, respectfully… who the fuck is Robert Ebert?”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to burn. You’re unsure if he catches it, the flash of sudden shyness at that nickname now. It once sent rage burning down your throat, but you now revel in it. You’d burn for it.

“You’re killing me here, handsome,” that does the trick – a small squeak sounds off from deep within his throat, and he tries to cover it with a cough, “He was a famous movie critic. My newest role model.”

You expect him to go on with the bit, to force your hand and make you expand on it. Your mind is already reeling with ways to insert more innuendos, more nicknames, more ways to drive him as insane as you already had become thanks to him. It was only fair that you return the favor.

He doesn’t.

He’s like a schoolboy, fidgeting beneath your attention. You swear you feel a tremor in his legs that are tangled with yours properly again, and when he grabs your ankle, when he gives it another squeeze and he lays his thumb into that bone again as if he might find a divot specifically worn out just for him, you realize he’s not going to go along with the bit. Your innocent nickname has left him defenseless. Flustered, vibrant pink and crimson red from the bridge of his nose to the tops of his ears.

Oh, this is fun.

You move the foot he’s not holding onto for dear life, shifting it too quick for him to stop you before you sharply prod his exposed stomach with your toes, “Earth to Eddie?”

He jumps at the contact. It happens so fast, you almost can’t keep track of him with your eyes as he’s sporadically jumping up off of the couch, away from your foot and legs and you.

Oh, that’s not fun.

“We should watch another movie,” No, we really shouldn’t. “How’s Scream sound?”

He doesn’t even let you answer him, already rushing towards the entertainment center and dropping into a crouch before the shelves holding some of his movies. His hand moves to his knee, the hand that had once held to your bone, the one that burned a lingering touch into it, and you watch as his fingers start to tap along to a silent beat.

A clear sign of anxiety. Even if you hadn’t come to observe Eddie and learn his ins and outs over the last seventeen hours, you’d know he’s on edge.

“What are you doing?” you baldly ask him, in no mood to beat around the bush.

He’s on edge. All you did was call him handsome, and he’s on fucking edge.

“What do you mean?” he asks over his shoulder, not even so much as looking at you as his fingers trail along the spines of titles, occupying himself with finding a movie you still hadn’t agreed to.

You sit up on your knees, kneeling on the cushions. It almost reminds you of when your knees had last pressed into this couch, “I mean, why the fuck did you get up like that?”

“Like what?”

It’s funny, how easily your previously warm contentment can start to fan into flames of agitation.

“Oh, Jesus-” you cut yourself off, standing just abruptly as he had. You walk with purpose towards him, and he finally turns his face to look at you, “What did I do? Did I cross a line?”

His brows furrow, “What?”

You wave your hand towards the couch, finally stopping off beside him, cocking a hip to accommodate your other hand that rests on it, “The way you just- we were just sitting there and talking and you just-”

You just completely pulled away from me. Physically, yes, but I’m terrified it also be emotionally. You pulled away, and it feels an awful like you’re running away.

All the words you can’t say – all the words you don’t know how to say.

“You jumped up like I said something wrong,” you quietly finish the thought only half truthfully. It’s better than nothing. It still offers a sliver of honesty.

“You didn’t say anything wrong,” he remains crouched, looking up at you with big and wide eyes, face smoothing into shock, “I just… I want to watch another movie.”

“I thought we were past that.”

“Past what?”

“Lying.”

His blush lingers and so does the tapping of his fingers, “Why do you think I’m lying? I’m being serious – you didn’t do anything wrong! I just… You said you haven’t seen Scream, and mentioned something about killing, so I thought-”

“And if I don’t want to watch another movie?” you drop to your knees beside him, and he physically retracts, “See! Jesus Christ, Eddie, be honest with me right now or so help me God-”

“I have been plenty honest tonight, thank you very much,” he scowls immediately. You scoot closer to him on your knees, and this time, he isn’t flinching away, “You didn’t do anything wrong, alright? I… It’s me. My problem, I’ll deal with it. Please just… let me deal with it, okay?”

“Deal with what-”

It’s your fault, really. You scoot even closer on your knees, you’re ignoring the carpet burn sure to remain, when your balance fails you. One moment, you feel as though you have the upper ground with him and this entire argument, and the next you’re falling forward.

You’re falling forward, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to earnestly attempt to stop your collision with his floor. Attempt being the key word.

It happens slow enough that both of you should have been able to stop it, in retrospect. Because Eddie is successful in catching your elbow, pausing the fall momentarily before he loses his own balance. He falls onto his ass and out of his crouch with a soft oomph, eyes widening comically before he’s collapsing backwards and dragging you with him. Your body drapes over him, cheek pressing into his bare chest, and neither of you move for a second.

A familiar position. From the first few hours, when Eddie had tried to wrestle his damn porn magazine from you. That warm weight that once rested between your hips now digging into him, ribcages once more pressing together with erratic heartbeats pounding against each other through walls of flesh.

You don’t move at first, keeping your face smashed into his chest. The perfect role reversal. At least his face isn’t in your boobs this time.

“I…” Oh, it’s painful to hold in your laughter, words choking up as your mouth quivers in the force of fighting a shit-eating grin, “I-I’m sorry.”

He’s quick to recognize your amusement, “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“I’m not going to!”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” he shifts beneath you, sitting up and bringing you back up with him. His arms are loose around your waist as you slide off of him and sit onto the floor beside him, “Who’s the liar now?”

Another twitch of your lips, another glare shot your way, “I’m…” He raises his eyebrow in a dare, “Okay, yeah, I was going to laugh.”

“Fuckin’ knew it.”

He’s still wrapped around you, even as you sit side by side. Awkward angles and all, he’s clinging to you just as he did on the couch. As if he always needs to be touching you now, as if that line being crossed has made him open his eyes to a million realizations and opportunities.

When he’s not running away, of course.

You want to bring it up, reiterate that you’d like to know what exactly Eddie was ‘dealing with’ as he so eloquently put it. But you can’t, especially not when his thumb finds your soft skin beneath his shirt and strokes it thoughtlessly. An instinct. You wonder if he’s even conscious of it, if he even knows the effect it’s having on you.

Can he hear your heart when he’s this close? Can he hear it’s thunder that shakes your very foundations?

“I was serious,” you finally speak up, realizing you two have spent far too long sitting on his living room floor and just looking into each other’s eyes. If past you knew you ended up in this position, she would have been disgusted, not fawning. “I don’t feel like another movie.”

“Even Scream?”

“Even Scream.”

It’s a hard sentiment to force out, because the idea of getting to sit through another few hours of watching Eddie glow with excitement, to watch his expressions as he tumbles over words of adornment for something he loves and is passionate about, is tempting. But you’re pretty sure if you end up on that couch again, his thumb stroking your ankle as he attempts to keep your attention tethered to a motion picture you could never follow along with sincerely, you’ll just fall asleep.

Sleep deprivation is a bitch.

“What do you want to do instead?” he asks you. He makes no move to stand; you don’t either.

Your eye trails over the entertainment center to avoid his stare, when something catches your eye on the shelf above the movies, “You never did tell me who Deftones are.”

Eddie glances at the shelf of CDs that caught your eye, “You… want to listen to Deftones right now, rather than watch Scream?”

“Yes. I want you to rock my world with Deftones right now rather than watch Scream.”

“What about sleep?”

“What about it?”

“Do you not want to rest? They never said we couldn’t. Actually, right now, they’re assuming we are.”

Amongst the quick back and forth, you have to bite your tongue. You want to scream, no. No, I don’t want to sleep, because if I sleep, I’m missing this. I may never get this again; I can’t risk this.

You shrug, and stand as his arms fall from around you. You miss that weight – you always miss the fucking weight of him. Just like a child with their favorite stuffed animal or blanket, you’re growing too attached too quickly. It’s going to be your downfall. It’s going to be your goddamn reckoning once these hours have slipped away.

Even more reason to not sleep. Even more reason to cling to your time with him.

“No rest for the wicked, am I right?” you force a careless grin and hold out a hand. You silently plead for him to take it, to give you this win just once.

He stares at your hand, then at you, then back to your hand. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” you sigh out unintentionally when he hesitantly starts to reach out for your hand, grasping his palm to yours. A sudden burst of confidence overrides your system as you say, “But for these final seven hours, I’m your idiot.”

His grip turns steady and firm. A wicked grin crosses his face to match your own.

“That you are, sweetheart. That you are.”

—

As it turns out, Eddie’s radio is broken. He tries to explain what happened, animatedly waving around his hands as he pulls all of the Deftones albums he owns and tries to give you the backstory to the night he broke the poor thing, but you just grab your phone and wave it in front of him instead.

“I’m about to change your life and single handedly convince you to get a smartphone, Munson,” you tease as he takes a seat on the couch beside you.

You’re sat criss-cross, bare knee bumping his thigh as you open your Spotify app.

“I do know what Spotify is,” he grumbles, “I’m not completely lost on the times.”

“You still use physical copies of porn. Excuse me for assuming you don’t know what Spotify is.”

That shuts him up with ease.

He’s completely silent, almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the warmth radiating off of him and the bounce of his knee beside you. His eyes are watchful, though, as you search up this mysterious band and click on their music profile.

Just as you open your mouth to ask which song you should play, thumb already hovering over their top song of Change (In The House of Flies), he sticks out his open palm.

“What?” you question, looking up from where you’d been focused on the tiny screen.

He wiggles his fingers.

You know that he’s asking for you to hand over the phone, but you still recall the thrill from teasing him earlier. The rush you got from flustering him, from getting under his skin.

Maybe you don’t have to shower him with abundant flirtatious nicknames to do that. Maybe, you can pull back an inch or so, lay off the compliments, figure out a new way to get under his skin in a way that makes you both smile until your cheeks burn, laugh until your stomachs ache.

Instead of giving him the phone, you send your hand out to his and smack it. A punitive attempt at a high five with the angle given.

“Wha-” he starts, staring at his palm you’d just smacked in gentle astonishment, “I wasn’t asking for a high five.”

“No?” you bite down on your inner cheek, reeling back in your smile as he wiggles his fingers again, inching his hand closer to the phone.

This time, instead of slapping at his hand, you smack your hand down into his and lace your fingers together.

A giggle escapes you as he tries to shake your hand from his, and even as he tries to grimace, you catch the smile he’s fighting.

“Sweetheart,” he chastises, “Give me the phone so I can show you the damn band.”

“Ask nicely.”

He gets his hand free from yours and tilts his head in your direction, raising an eyebrow. You only raise your own brow in return.

“Stop being a brat and give me the phone, please,” he repeats himself in a nearly condescending tone.

You’re managing it. Aching cheeks, soon-to-be aching stomachs, as you crawl beneath his skin. “Make me.”

Two simple words are all it takes to finally burrow into him. Literally. You nearly drop your phone when he’s quickly shifting positions, hand no longer be held out for the device as he suddenly dives it into your sides. Your body instinctively curls up protectively, and his forearm is caught against your torso as he begins to do exactly what you had enticed from him. He’s making you.

The asshole is tickling you.

“Eddie!” you screech, no care for how thin the walls of his apartment might be, “Ed-Eddie, stop!”

He’s cackling now between your gasping laughs. Your phone does take a tumble, dropping to both your feet as his second hand joins the torture. You can’t follow the path of his fingertips up and down your sides, only continuing to yelp out as your eyes tear up and you try to fight back. He props himself with a knee on the couch, other leg stretched to the floor as he cowers you into the cushion and your sides begin to ache.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

If you really wanted him to stop, you probably could manage to kick him off of you. One slip of a knee or thigh with intention towards his groin, and you’re sure it would send him flying. But you don’t. You let his body cover yours as your forehead bumps against his shoulder, you let him curl back into you and entrap you so willingly. You let that overwhelming scent of boy take you over.

You let his waves drag you under. You don’t even have to take a breath before it happens; his essence is enough to keep your lungs from collapsing.

“Stop?” he laughs, fingers momentarily slowing but not quite stopping, “Have I made you yet, baby?”

Your laughs die silently. All the air finally leaves your lungs, and you officially can only breathe in him.

Baby.

He senses the change in you immediately. The tickling stops, and he’s leaning back, shoulder leaving your forehead feverish. That’s what it was, it couldn’t possibly be the warmth that glows in your chest from that nickname.

Baby.

You get it. Oh, God, you get it. His quick escape when you’d called him handsome. You’d forgotten that this game of getting beneath his skin and bantering with light teasing goes both ways. You’d forgotten he has as much power over you now as you did him.

Wide, brown eyes meet yours. He’s close enough to kiss. One impulsively lurch forward, and your lips would be back on his. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your hips, his own hips settled between your thighs – all of this is so, so palpable. And all it would take is one movement.

You hesitate. And he moves, lurching the wrong way. You almost call out, wait. Come back.

Baby.

An echo you can’t grasp onto quickly enough, and it leaves right along with the weight of him.

He leans down and grabs your phone that had fallen, and sits back down beside you as he clears his throat, “Anyways. Um, where were we?”

You kissing me. Me kissing you. Us, kissing, here on this couch.

“Deftones?” you manage to whisper out questioningly instead. You swallow down that desire, a fiery weapon you should probably tamper down anyways.

“Right. Deftones.”

He opens your phone, putting in the code you quietly hand over to him without any hesitation. It was all wasted on that brief look, that moment where you nearly had him back in your grasps and he only slipped away again.

You don’t even care as he deliberates which song to show you first. You think there’s a notification from Steve, a text message in the groupchat, but it’s lost on you.

Baby.

You like the way it sounds, you like the way it fits. You wonder how steep of a price you’d have to pay to hear him say it again.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #had to cut it off there because deftones makeout session needs it's own moment to shine truly #not edited sorry i ain't got that kind of brain power left in me right now

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nocasdatsgay · 2 months

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So Where Do I Start?

Pairing: Eris x F-Reader | Rating: E 🌶️| Eris POV

Word count: 2256 | one-shot | Read on Ao3

Summary: You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

CW: an off screen baby, post baby body, insecurities, sex

A/N: I’ve never had a baby but I do have body issues 😂 there is also a part where Eris thinks about how much he basically missed the intimacy- don’t misconstrue it as him needing sex. I worried when I wrote that. If enough ppl like it I’ll post it on ao3 🫣 I put it on ao3

No tag list for this one cause I don’t want to subject ppl to baby content if they don’t want it 🫣

Eris had been flirting with you all day. You’d asked around lunch what had gotten into him and honestly he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it was the fact you’d both gotten decent sleep, your babe finally being at a point where they could sleep through the night. Maybe it was the fact things had slowed down for him, having finally caught up with paperwork and meetings now that he’d returned to focusing on high lord duties after the weeks spent helping with the baby.

Or maybe he just loved you. Which was nothing new.

Of course when you both got into bed, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Soft kisses deepened and he pushed up your nightshirt, determined to pull it off but you shoved at his hand. He pulled away immediately, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Gods, it felt like it might kill him but he’d do it.

“No.” You didn’t look him in the eyes. “I just, I don’t want,” your voice trailed.

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Your gaze met his. You frowned at him. He frowned back. He tried to think of what was bothering you. It had been a few months. Recovery from birth was one of the longer healing processes even in high fae. It was highly possible you weren’t ready despite Edith stating you’d healed up perfectly a month ago. Just because you were cleared didn’t mean you were ready.

“I can wait,” he added. “I am more than happy just keep kissing you.”

“No.” Your eyes widened. “No, I want you. I do. I just. Maybe just leave my shirt on?”

He frowned again. “My love, we talked about this.”

And you both had. He noticed immediately when you started staring too long in the mirror and when you changed up your style of clothing. It took him weeks to convince you to bath with him again, to let him see you fully nude in a neutral setting.

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is it different?” He chuckled and you pouted at him. He sent his love through the bond hoping you’d forgive him for laughing.

“What if- I just don’t think I can handle it if, you know.” You bit your lip and looked away.

“If what?”

“If you- gods Eris you’re such an ass, don’t make me say it.” He grinned at you and it only flustered you more. “What if I kill your mood?”

He blinked, his own eyebrows raised up. “As if you haven’t smacked me several times already in the past month because I have gotten handsy in the bath.”

“That was different,” you protested. “You were just playing.”

He let his voice drop low and put his hand back on your shirt when he replied. “I never play with how much I want you.” He could smell your arousal spike back up. He made sure to lower hand and trace his fingers on your thigh. “Let me show you. If you still don’t believe me then we’ll stop and I’ll go to sleep in the study. Do we have a deal, my fire?”

“Gods you don’t play fair,” you said breathlessly.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He’d already distracted you enough to get his hand farther up your thigh, the shirt inching up with it. He reached your hip, his fingers running over your infernal underwear.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking a finger on the band.

“I don’t know. Can you?” You smarted back.

He looked you straight in the eyes when he replied, “I can and I will.” Then he set your underwear on fire, ensuring it only burned the fabric away and not your skin.

“Eris!” You yelled and pushed up the bed in shock.

“Hush, you’ll wake the baby, love,” he chuckled and used his magic to clear away the ash.

“You set my underwear on fire.” You hissed.

“I did. And I’m about to set that shirt aflame as well if you don’t let me take it off you.” He grinned.

“Fine. But if you can’t get it up, I am cutting your cock off and stuffing it down your throat. Then I’m murdering you.” You hissed and tugged up the nightshirt to pull it over your head.

“I love it when you're feisty.” He purred, his eyes immediately wandering down your body as you tossed the shirt off to the floor. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Start?”

You tried to cover yourself but he was not having it. He crawled over you, grabbing and pinning your arms by your head. He watched in real time your pupils dilate, your eyes going near black.

“I said I would show you how much I want you,” he leaned in and brushed his nose against your own. “So where do I start?”

For once he’d rendered you speechless. Good. He didn’t need you arguing with him when your opinions were clearly wrong. Especially when he let you go and sat up to look you over again. The mother truly blessed him by putting you in his path. He made sure to push that down the bond and smirked at your cheeks darkening.

“I know these are the babe’s favorites.” He whispered. He traced a finger around your breast. “It’s wrong of me to say this but I do enjoy it when you pull my hands up your top.”

“Eris,” you hissed.

“It’s true.” He grinned. “You get my warm hands pressed against your sore breasts and I get to hold you.” You blinked at that confession. “My mate, did you think I had nefarious reasons?”

“I thought you just liked to touch my breasts.”

He shrugged, “what is that phrase my brothers keep spewing when they cheat at cards? A win is in fact still a win?”

You rolled your eyes. He continued moving his finger down your sternum and traced around your stomach. You frowned.

“Despite how you feel, I do love how soft you are now.” His fingers moved around to your side and traced your hip. “And how wide your hips are now.”

“I don’t. I had to buy a whole new wardrobe. That was expensive.”

You then yelped and jolted as he moved over you, putting one leg between your thighs to wedge him apart.

“As if I care about the cost. These hips carried our baby.”

He leaned in and kissed the valley between your breasts. His left hand cupped your right breast when he kissed down your chest again. He could feel you relax under him and grinned against your stomach. He maneuvered himself so he could switch and cup your other one against his heated palm.

“I swear that’s all you're good for,” you teased, placing your hand on top of his. “Male hot stone.”

He slid down further and nipped his teeth at the skin above your belly button and he felt you tense again. He knew you hated how soft your stomach was and how the skin there was still recovering from being stretched to accommodate your child. He’d spend the rest of his life convincing you it was a blessing if he had to. Because it was.

“This beautiful belly of yours,” he kissed your stomach, “made our perfect babe. That was all you, my fire.”

“I know.” You didn’t sound convinced.

Eris knew it would take time. Even if he was impatient, he wouldn’t argue with you. He learned a long time ago that only made you stand firm in your thoughts. Instead he pressed more open mouth kisses along your stomach, pulling his hands away to loop his arms under your thighs. He didn’t miss the way you gasped or how your scent sweetened. He definitely didn’t miss the humming want you were pushing in through the bond. He rolled his hips into the bed like a fuckin youth just to relieve his own tension.

He wasted no more time, eager to get his mouth between your legs. He pulled your legs apart and peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs. You were still tense; something he had not encountered since the first time you were together. Despite your apprehension, you were still wet for him. He tried not to be smug as he put his mouth on you and your body relaxed in his hold.

He moaned as he licked up your center, your taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way. It was almost muscle memory, his tongue moving against your already swollen nub in a way that had you grabbing him by his hair. And by the cauldron, did he miss your hands in his hair.

Eris had planned to take his time. Take you apart slowly and remind you how much he loved you. Your body had other plans. You rolled your hips against his face, and he sucked and licked harder. He didn’t even get his fingers in you before you moaned and arched on the bed.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you came, panting and yanking his hair as he worked you through it. You had enough when you pulled him up.

He laughed. “That’s a record.”

“Is it?” You were still gasping.

“You really know how to stroke a male’s ego.” He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should take breaks more often.”

“Insufferable.” You muttered.

“I’m about to be even more insufferable,” he said with a sly tone.

He made certain you were looking when he rolled his pants down, his length springing free and curving up on his stomach.

“Still doubt me?” He smirked and stroked himself.

You groaned. “Fine, I believe you.” Despite your tone you gave him a loving look. “Now hush and come fuck me.”

Eris kicked off his pants and crawled over you. There were no words exchanged as your legs fell open and he seemed to settle in place with ease. You gasped when he reached in between you both to guide himself into your slick heat. He groaned almost too loud when he bottomed out into you and stilled.

By The Mother he missed this. Being so close to you; being physically connected to you. The bond between you both tight, filled with love and passion. He laid there for a moment to savor it. He kissed you deeply and used his hand to bring your leg up farther on his waist.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead to yours. “I swear I’d put another baby in you right now if Edith wouldn’t kill me.”

“I think I would kill you.” Your tone was amused rather than annoyed, thankfully.

“And what sweet death it would be,” he muttered.

He kissed you again and propped himself up on one of his arms. The shift alone felt like lightning shooting up his spine. He realized at that moment he shouldn’t have laughed at you for coming apart so quickly. Eris groaned and cursed when he rocked his hips.

“Know how to stroke a female’s ego.” Your laughter faded into a moan; Eris thrusted into you a little harder.

You were both mostly silent after that. Eris’s mouth was preoccupied with kissing every inch of your face and chest he could reach. You were biting your lip when he wasn’t kissing you so you wouldn’t get vocal and wake the baby. He could feel you plateau through the bond, both of you just enjoying the feeling of being together in this way again.

He finally moved up and put your leg up over his shoulder to let him dive into you harder. You sighed and he felt your pleasure spike through the bond. He tried to not be smug about it. He reached his hand between you and rubbed his thumb gently in time with his thrusts. He grinned at how you mewled.

“Can you come for me again, love?” You nodded. He was close himself, his breathing haggard. “Will you do that for me? Come with me.”

It took a few moments before you arched off the bed again and flooded the bond with your pleasure. He groaned coming right behind you, but not stopping until you stopped pulsing around him. He dropped your leg and damn near collapsed on top of you.

Eris pushed himself off you with a groan, still catching his breath. “I think I need to start training again.”

“Overwork yourself?” You giggled “I think that’s just your age showing.”

Eris bit back a retort. After a moment he reluctantly moved off the bed and muttered he would get you a towel. Sleepiness was creeping into his bones while he cleaned himself off and wet a hand towel for you. He grabbed his pants off the floor where he tossed them and before he returned to bed, he peered into the nursery. Your babe was still fast asleep.

It seemed you were also sleepy when he crept up to the bed and saw your eyes closed. He made sure to heat the towel with his hand before maneuvering it between your legs and cleaning up the mess he made. You inhaled sharply but only blinked at him. He incinerated it once he was done.

“You’re so dramatic,” you grumbled at him.

“But you love me,” he said and leaned in and kissed you again before crawling into bed.

“That I do,” you muttered and scooted over to him so you could cuddle until you both fell asleep.

#gods I’m nervous about this one folks #no one asked for it but here you go #daddy!eris #post baby!f-reader #acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris acotar

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writeforfandoms · 7 months

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Call Me Little Sunshine

Find my John Price masterlist

You've had a bad day, but even from a different country, your husband knows how to make it better.

This is pure comforting fluff. Might give you cavities.

Warnings: Price needs his own warning, swearing, sweetness, established relationship.

John Price x f!reader

Word count: 1k

You had just thrown yourself on the couch for a bit of dramatic pouting when your phone rang. You groaned out loud, momentarily tempted to ignore it. It was probably something stupid, or a telemarketer, or whatever.

But�� it could be your husband. He did sometimes call without warning.

You checked your phone. Unknown number. Could be your husband. Could be just about anybody.

You answered anyway.

“‘Lo?”

“Princess.”

You breathed out a soft sigh at the sound of your darling’s voice. “John.”

“You alright, love?” His voice was rough, like he’d been smoking recently.

“Well enough.” You shrugged, pushing yourself up from the couch so you could sit. “What about you? What time is it?”

John blew out a soft breath, amused. “It’s late, and I’m fine,” he reassured you. “No new holes in me.” The faint sounds of a skirmish came through from the other end, and you recognized Kyle’s voice.

“Do you need to get that?” you asked, amused despite yourself.

There was a moment of silence. “Nope.” John must have moved away from them, because his end of the line got quieter. “Now, princess. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You winced. “Nothing,” you protested, lifting one hand to rub your forehead.

“I know you better than that,” John murmured, voice pitched lower, soothing. “You can tell me.”

“It’s not important,” you tried. “Especially compared to whatever you’ve got going on.”

“Right now, all I’ve got going on is ignoring a couple idiots,” John countered. “Nothin’ more important than you.”

Your resistance crumbled in the face of that tone and those words. You sighed and gave in, telling him about your frustrations with work. You tried to keep it short, but he kept asking questions. Not letting you get away with giving him the bare minimum.

“Well,” he finally said once he’d gotten everything out of you he wanted. “Least you’re done for the day.”

“No kidding.” You huffed softly, once again thinking about getting a drink. You deserved a little relaxation, after the day you’d had. “Two more days and it’s the weekend.”

John chuckled softly. “That eager, hm?”

“John, I’m just preventing murder,” you told him, all faux-innocence. “Really.”

He snorted. “Noble of you,” he teased.

You smiled. It did not escape you that you felt better, that he was responsible for that. “I’m not keeping you up, am I, love?”

“No.” His voice softened. “Don’t fret ‘bout me, princess.”

“You know I always do.”

“I know.” Those simple words carried such weight to them. Regret that you worried, acknowledgement that he couldn’t make you stop, appreciation that you cared enough to fret.

You’d both talked this over enough times that you both acknowledged the stalemate. You’d fret. He’d ask you not to. Neither of you would give ground.

And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. Your husband was stubborn, and it was something you loved about him, even when he drove you up the wall.

“You eaten yet?”

“No,” you groaned, making a face. “Don’t you start fussing at me from another timezone, love.”

He chuckled. “Can’t stop me.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but paused. The boys would probably take his side. “I’ll order in,” you decided instead. Giving ground to him, this time.

“Good girl.” His voice dipped teasingly low, with that extra bit of rasp that he knew did things to you.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him, sitting up again in alarm. “John.”

“What? Can’t I make sure my princess is feeling better?” He purred through the line.

“You are a damn tease, John Price.” But you couldn’t entirely keep your smile out of your tone.

“Mm. So you like to remind me.” John took a deep breath, slow and steady. “Go order your dinner, princess. Something special tonight, hm? You deserve it.”

You warmed, unable to stop the fond smile if you tried. Which you didn’t. “Alright, love. Get some sleep tonight.”

“I will.” His voice softened, gently affectionate. “I’ll call again soon.”

“When you can,” you emphasized. “I’ll be here.”

“Love you,” John murmured.

“Love you too.” You bit back the desire to ask when he’d be home, remind him to stay safe. He knew. And you knew.

But you still had to take a moment to blink back emotion after the call disconnected. Your wonderful, stubborn, incredible husband.

Huffing to yourself, you ordered food. Something nice, like John said. It was amazing how much better you felt after a little conversation and some food.

But the best came in the morning, as you were settling in to work. A knock at the door made you get up, cautious at first. Until you saw the flowers carried by a delivery man.

The bouquet was large, beautiful, with some of your favorites. You stroked a few petals with a smile before you plucked out the card.

Princess,

You can make it two more days. I’ll call again tonight. Chin up, sweetheart.

The note was not signed, but you didn’t need it to be.

But the thing that really caught you by surprise was the second card.

I’m not bailing you out or stopping your husband if you get arrested, so call me before you murder anyone. -S

Bonnie, you’re a right saint for putting up with that grump. -J

We’re on his six, don’t worry. See you soon. -K

Eyes watery, smile almost painful, you put both notes on the front of the fridge, flowers in pride of place in the center of the table. Today would be no problem, now.

#john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

762 notes · View notes

marthawrites · 7 months

Note

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog.

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too.

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious.

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head.

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight!

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there.

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way.

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen.

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door.

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang.

Aemond.

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished.

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else.

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?"

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt.

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages.

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages.

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress.

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose.

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?"

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure.

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please."

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast. “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall.

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity.

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side.

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said.

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts.

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl."

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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