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#i breath and think only rainbows words
yueebby · 3 months
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keep dreaming! – gojo satoru
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synopsis. down bad? … it’s gojo satoru!
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he basically has a wet dream of you, you wear tinted lip balm, your first kiss w him (??), suguru plays devil’s advocate
notes. remember spring days!au but can be read alone. anyways, enjoy!! I am writing this while sick (yikes). also of course this wouldn’t be canon compliant if i had not included satoru and suguru’s dynamic! I tried my best to apply their interactions during the basketball match + while theyre leaving jujutsu tech as much as i can.
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“satoru…” you murmur, looking up at him shyly. the two of you find yourselves alone in the classroom. a greedy smile plays on his lips, and you struggle to formulate words as your eyes travel from his cerulean ones to his lips. satoru can barely contain his excitement, the anticipation radiates from him like an electric charge.
“say it, [name]. tell me what you want.” he whispers back at you seductively, his eyes are spellbound onto yours. you whine before grabbing the collar of his uniform and pulling him onto you. your lips are soft, so soft. you were made for him, he’s sure, as your lips mold together. as a matter of fact, your lips are so soft that they feel eerily like his pillow–
"get up! we’re late to our mission!" suguru hits the top of satoru’s head with the spare pillow on his bed. the white haired boy immediately activates his innate technique to block his best friend’s attacks.
it was going to be a long day.
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“it’s unlike you to wake up so late.” suguru’s hands pause over the shoji door of the classroom. his concern for gojo was more important than the imminent lecture they were going to receive from yaga for their tardiness. “plus you totally sucked today.”
their mission had taken an unexpected turn for the worse when the pair had found themselves stuck in an incomplete domain. the narrow escape was only possible as a result of suguru’s quick thinking with rainbow dragon.
the bandaid on satoru’s cheek is a silent testament to the mission gone wrong.
“i’ve just been tired.” satoru mumbles quietly, heat rising to his cheeks as the memory of the dream flashes in his mind. he was too deep in thought to counter his friend’s insult.
something was definitely wrong. suguru raises his eyebrows, “and it has nothing to do with the fact that i caught you making out with your pillow?”
“i– what?” the heat has spread from his cheeks to all over his face. he hopes his sunglasses cover the blush that was blossoming on his face. suguru lets out a breath of relief. satoru’s blush meant that the matter at hand was only trivial…
“don’t tell me you were dreaming of [name],” his best friend smiles knowingly. satoru groans. suguru definitely knew, he was just playing with him at this point.
their conversation is cut short when the doors slide open by themselves to reveal a certain brown haired girl with a distasteful look on her face.
“satoru is having wet dreams of [name]?” shoko remarks quietly, making sure her comment is only heard by the two males. “i would act surprised, but it’s not like you’re above it.”
“just who do you think i am?” satoru looks down at his friend.  
“a real pervert.” shoko simply replied before quickly making her way back to the desk next to yours. 
satoru’s eyes follow her and make their way onto you. like a fly making its way into a honey trap, he can’t seem to look anywhere else. too busy burning the image of you absorbed in your textbook, he absorbs every little detail from the way your soft lips slightly part to mouth the words of the book to the way your leg bounces underneath the table. were you using a new lip balm? there was a subtle shade difference from your usual choice. gojo makes a mental note to ask you for the exact brand for… personal reasons.
in his trance, satoru fails to notice yaga’s scolding. he had also failed to notice how suguru had already made his way into a desk.
“satoru since you seem so eager to continue standing, i assume you volunteer to solve this equation.” yaga angrily taps the blackboard with a worn out price of chalk. 
satoru stiffens up, not because of yaga’s wrath, but because your attention has shifted from the textbook to him. you blink up at him, the image dangerously similar to his dream. satoru gulps, eyes quickly flitting to the equation messily written on the board. 
at least math equations don’t make him feel like his heart is beating out of his chest.
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it didn’t take a genius to notice how quiet satoru has been today. as if he were in his own world, you notice.
“i fear that i may have been giving satoru too much attention lately,” you mutter to your two other friends, mind running laps trying to recall all of the intimate moments you have spent with the white haired fiend— all of which could be characterized as highly inappropriate. 
“you always do,” suguru lazily rests his chin on the palm of his hand on the desk across from you. after yaga’s lecture, the seats had been rearranged appropriately so that the four of you could enjoy lunch together. “lay some of your love on us too.” he gestures his chopsticks to himself and shoko who were sitting side by side.
one could argue that the subtle smirk playing on suguru’s lips were a lot more dangerous than satoru’s. you’re afraid that suguru has started a game that will only end with your downfall.
the silver tongued boy seemed to catch satoru’s attention with his comment.
“ha– mad that you don’t pull? get your own girl,” satoru speaks up for the first time, glaring at his best friend through half lidded eyes from above his dark glasses. the half eaten melonpan in his hand was long forgotten.
“last i checked, [name] wasn’t your girl,” suguru places his chopsticks back down on his bento box. 
you could’ve sworn you saw an irk mark appear on the side of gojo’s face. 
shoko, who had been watching the scene unfold, sips on her juicebox silently. your eyes anxiously flit between the two boys.
“if you’re still mad about that mission, step outside. it’s not like i’m the one savin’ our asses every time.” satoru grits his teeth. 
the loud sound of suguru’s chair screeching on the wooden floor reverberates in the mostly empty room, “you and your uncouth mouth,” he accuses satoru.
shoko flees the scene. smart girl. 
you were about to follow her, but suguru holds out a hand for you to stop,
“i’m just about done anyway. please, don’t cut your meal early on my account,” he looks down at you and your full bento box. the black haired boy leaves no room for discussion when he turns his back to leave the classroom. 
when the shoji doors are slammed shut by suguru, your head whips to satoru who resumes eating his strawberry melonpan. 
“what was that? you’ve been acting strange, satoru– what happened on that mission?”
“don’ worry ‘bout it,” you barely make out the words coming out of his mouth that is full as he munches on the pink bread. 
you scoff, “you can’t just expect me to ignore the argument you just had with suguru. and that ugly bandaid on your face?” you point at the skin-colored bandage haphazardly placed on his face. upon further inspection, you also notice the growing eyebags on his face. it was truly peculiar to see any blemish on satoru’s perfect face.
he pouts, “are you calling me ugly?” satoru doesn't take pleasure in upsetting you, but the gradual way you leaned closer to him sparked an unexpected thrill within him.
“no, i’m worried about you. you’re being weird, satoru.” he was far from ugly.
as your back faces the window, the outside light casts an otherworldly glow around you.
“well, aren’t you an angel?” he tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, completely enamored.
“you never stop, do you? you’ve been completely out of it all day!” your scrutinizing gaze zeroes in on gojo who was mindlessly nodding with a dazed out smile on his face. “and judging by the way you’re all bandaged up, suguru was probably right! i mean you totally got roughed up. the great gojo satoru, wounded.” 
satoru blushes at your angry face. he’d say something indecent, but he fears that it would only scare you away. if only you knew that the reason he was all messed up was because of you.
“it's partially your fault, y'know.” cerulean eyes blink at you sheepishly before being replaced by a newfound mischievous look.
he doesn’t miss the way your anger shifts into confusion.
"excuse me?"
satoru continues, “if it weren't for you appearing in my dream i wouldn't have been distracted by that incomplete domain.” he points to the bandage cut just below his right eye.
“dreaming of me now, gojo?" you raise an eyebrow. the uncomfortable heat that was starting to rise onto your face at the new revelation that gojo dreams about you is ignored.
satoru looks away, "can you really blame a guy?"
you huff, ignoring his comment, “i think yaga has a first aid kit somewhere in the closet.” you make your way to check out the forgotten door in the back of the classroom. 
the cool sterility of medical supplies contrasts with the charged atmosphere left behind in the classroom.
when you do come back with the kit, your heart races, praying he won't notice the hitch in your breath as your fingers delicately tend to the nearly healed scratch beneath his cheek. satoru's ability to evoke strange emotions within you is undeniable.
silence envelops the classroom, broken only by satoru's deep breaths. you're so close that you can almost feel the warm gusts of air from his breath on your face.
"your body healed remarkably fast. i'm not surprised," you softly observe, your focus on the task at hand. satoru smiles, his eyes fixed on your concentrated features.
"yeah? well, i have an excellent nurse," he remarks, tapping the freshly placed bandaid on his cheek. "though it seems she missed one of my injuries."
you furrow your eyebrows. satoru points to his expectant lips, a playful pout on his face.
"no," you plainly state.
"aw, c'mon. kiss it better? i almost died today," he pleads, his eyes silently begging. you shake your head, unaware that it was your fault he nearly lost his head during the mission.
"you really want a kiss?" you repeat, catching on to his persistent request.
he nods fervently, his excitement palpable. was that even a question
you think he was pretty insane– requesting kisses from a fellow peer.
“satoru..” you murmur, leaning closer to him. his eyes were twinkling with excitement. the two of you were all alone, left with nothing but each other. this scene was all too familiar. 
the sides of his lips quirk up into a smirk while he watches your eyes travel all around his face. satoru has been fantasizing about this moment since the moment he laid eyes on you.
“[name],” he says, his voice softer than ever, a privilege reserved for those closest to him—especially you.
just a few more inches and your lips will meet… just a few…
slap!
satoru blinks in shock while you giggle at his confusion. he attempts to ask what just happened, but his mouth is sealed. his hand rises to find a bandaid now on his lips.
“you’re cuter when you shut up.”
 you seal your words with a soft kiss placed on his bandaged mouth.
...
gojo satoru explodes, his voice muffled by an adhesive barrier.
“m.rrry.. m.. mph..mph!”
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extra: 
all conflicts were resolved by evening when you had strategically set up a mario kart tournament.
right after you (indirectly) kissed gojo, you fled the scene, leaving a flustered satoru all hot and bothered. you ended up screaming into your pillow.. the same pillow that satoru was laying on not too long ago.
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syddsatyrn · 3 months
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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 2
(Click here to read chapter 1)
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.
⛧Words: 2.5K
⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.
⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.
⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic
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As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.
“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.
“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.
“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.
“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.
You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.
You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table. 
“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.
“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”
“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.
“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.
“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”
“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.
You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.
You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.
You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.
But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.
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Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study. 
He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow. 
Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow. 
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Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.
You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.
Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.
“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves. 
The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat. 
“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”
He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”
“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.
“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”
You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself. 
“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”
Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.
Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”
Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.
You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.
Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down. 
“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.
“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.
“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried. 
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flametrashiraarchive · 10 months
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referring to that one that suggested endowed! reader... i think it would be absolutely hilarious and awkward if one day muzan trips and falls into reader's booba- i wanna know his reaction- HGFDGFCDFDVCXC
Looool I cannot stop thinking about this.
First part is here
Okay let's go. Mildly NSFW under the cut but mostly silly.
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That Time You Inadvertently Saved Douma's Ass.
You were waiting patiently for the upper rank meeting to end, but Muzan was pacing, which could only mean he was on the verge of a rampage the likes of which had never been seen. The veins in his forehead were close to popping and the air in the Infinity Castle was dripping with danger.
You knew this could go on for a while.
Upper moons five, four, three, and one were waiting with silent trepidation on a floating platform below, but Douma was summoned to answer for his latest mistake.
"Douma, I gave you one simple task; to locate the blue spider lily and bring it to me. And yet you have failed."
Upper Moon Two perches on Muzan's desk, pouting and swinging his legs back and forth as he watches the king of demons pace like a tiger in a cage. "Oh, Muzan-dono, you're right. I should be punished."
"And what punishment could possibly be severe enough for you to atone for the level of disappointment you have caused?" Muzan growls as he continues pacing.
"Ooh~" Douma chuckles, excitedly kicking out his feet. "You're letting me choose? Well, perhaps you should flay me, or pull out my fangs and fingernails, or-"
The Infinity Castle itself seems to hold its breath as Muzan trips over Douma's feet and stumbles face first into your ample bosom.
The only sound which breaks the silence is a deep, "mmh~" from Muzan, his groan vibrating against your sternum.
Douma's rainbow-colored eyes widen and his mouth falls open in silent gleeful surprise. "Uh... Muzan-dono...?"
A single, muffled word emerges from the progenitor of demons; "Nakime."
The sharp strum of a biwa whisks away the upper ranks and you find yourself alone with Muzan, his face still firmly lodged between your breasts.
"I am this close to destroying those worthless-."
"I know, baby, I know." You stroke Muzan's hair and let him stay in his happy place. "You good?"
"Silence." He shakes his head from side to side, burrowing deeper. He finally releases a breath and his shoulders relax. "Now I'm good."
You smile, knowing that Douma was absolutely going to send you sweets and flowers again tomorrow.
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
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i have a request for an angsty scenario where coryo and reader are together and at the bombing in the arena instead of going to reader he goes to protect lucy gray and reader has to be saved by the peacekeepers or one of her classmates.
WORTH IT
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pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray (suspected), sejanus plinth x fem!reader (suspected)
summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.
warnings: angsty angst, yelling, mentions of cheating, crying, miscommunication and misconceptions
a/n: we do not condone the villainization of lucy gray in this house no ma’am - i think i’m horrid at angst so bare w me please
the roof was crumbling.
the bomb had blown you miles away from where you once stood and your body was aching. the rubble surrounded you and the only person your eyes were searching for was corio.
a flash of red and yellowy blonde darted towards the array of rainbows, lucy and corio.
you were forced to watch on as he tried his hardest to move aside the rubble that was crushing her, and not you. you were lying a few metres away yet his first observation was her, and his mind was on her, his hands too as he dragged her out from underneath.
his face was twisted in, anguish? confusion? he looked at lucy gray as if she was the oddest thing in the world before his eyes drifted to you, then behind you as sejanus pulled you out from underneath.
and as you were about to thank your friend the world faded from your grasp, heaving breaths and the sound of someone shouting your name being the last thing you hear.
the beeping was irritating you.
you thanked the machine for keeping you steady but god did it drive into your skull. as you opened your eyes, corio invaded your space, clutching your face in his hands and he worriedly looked over you, “are you okay? does it hurt? i’m so sorry i thought lucy was you i didn’t- i just saw her hair and- i’m so sorry y/n.” corio rambled as you scoffed. getting up you saw the room was empty, “your parents are outside, so is tigris and sejanus.”
you brushed him off as you approached the tv screen infront of you. lucy. and god did she look amazing. donations were pouring in and all of a sudden you understood why corio seemed so adamant on being with her, helping her. she was a gorgeous songbird and you were a dull capitol parrot. nothing special.
“she looks amazing coriolanus. i hope you win with her.” you spoke softly as your eyes began to tear up at the thought of him leaving you. “hey- i’m doing what we’re all doing, nothing more and nothing less. i’m trying to win here y/n/n, you know i need this more than anyone else.” you sighed, “i know, do what you must.”
corios eyebrows furrowed as you made your back to the bed but not before corio reached out for you. “hey, i’m sorry. you have no idea how scared i was when the bomb went off. the first thing i wanted to do was make sure you were okay but i didn’t have enough time to make sure the person i was going after was the right one. i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you. and i promise, you are the one that i want. lucy please.”
was that the sound of your heart breaking?
you raised your head up high, trying to stop the tears from dropping as coriolanus was for once, at a loss for words. you turned around and smiled, “have a nice time with her corio. three years of us down the drain for district 12 scum. she probably doesn’t even love you, wonder what she’ll do when you slip up.”
“and what’re you going to do? crawl to sejanus?”
and as he stuttered, trying to come up with an apology, your eyes teared up again you came to a decision.
he wasn’t worth it.
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bby-deerling · 2 days
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Please a Hc with Zoro, Kid and Law: how do they react when having a premature ejaculation? 💧💧💧💧🌊
i swear you are a mind reader sometimes because i've been thinking about this with law so you gave me the perfect excuse to write it
when they cum too soon (nsfw)
ft. zoro, kid, law
masterlist || commissions
cw: creampie (w/law and zoro), implied virgin law, established relationship, degradation (w/kid only), brat taming (w/kid only)
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @eelnoise @wrennyx @atanukileaf @zorolux
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zoro
"dammit—" zoro hisses, inhaling sharply as he feels himself spill into you. he hadn't meant to cum so soon and was used to lasting a lot longer, but he was so pent up after weeks of not seeing you while you were off saving the stupid cook that he finds himself cumming nearly as soon as he sheathes himself inside of you.
"'s alright—" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice laced with annoyance and irritation.
"it's not alright. i should have more self control than that." he sighs, jaw clenched as he stares down at you; he had wanted to make this special for you, especially after you and brook had walked in on hiyori sleeping on top of him. this was the time for zoro to prove his devotion to you, and in his eyes he had failed by losing his head so quickly instead of focusing on making you feel good.
"just keep going, zoro." you urge him with pleading eyes. he's so weak for that look in your eyes—the one that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. and so he does, dragging his second orgasm out for as long as he possibly can, making sure you're completely spent and drooling from both your mouth and your pussy before he allows himself to cum again.
kid
"god, what the fuck is wrong with you, making me cum so damn fast?" kid snarls, words broken up by gasps as he catches his breath. your skin is already covered in a rainbow of colors—red from his lipstick, purple and yellow from hickeys both new and old, and white from the ropes of cum he just painted your stomach with—but he can't help but wish he could've held out a bit longer, especially given how much he had talked himself up earlier.
undeterred by his frustration, you let out an amused huff. "you can always just fuck me again, y'know." you say, lips curled into a smug smirk as you watch him run his hands through his now drooping scarlet hair.
"of course i'm gonna fuck you again. maybe it'll finally shut up that bratty mouth of yours." he snaps, face turning as red as his hair; already half-hard, slamming his cock into your drooling pussy with no warning is all he needs to get himself back to full mast. the gasps and whimpers you let out make him regain all of his confidence and then some, and he has no problems telling you what a bratty little slut you are for giving into him so easily.
law
"fuck—i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cum inside you." law whispers in your ear, breath ragged after he inadvertently came deep inside of your pussy; he had told himself beforehand that he would pull out, but he wasn't prepared for how good you'd feel gripping his cock and before he knew it, he was choking back groans and burying his head in your shoulder as his twitching cock spilled into you.
you let out a dreamy sigh as you press a lazy kiss into his hair. "'s okay, it felt so good." you reassure him, tightening your hold around him and pulling him close. the two of you lay like that for a few moments until your breathing regulates, though you're a haywire mess as soon as he pushes himself up with one hand to hover over you, eyes full of an intense hunger that you were eager to satiate.
"i haven't had enough of you yet." he says lowly, softly dragging his thumb across your lower lip. you can't help the way his words make your face burn and the corners of your lips quirk upwards.
"me neither." you reply, and his mouth is back on yours in a second, hot needy, and wanting as his tongue slips into your mouth; hips gently rocking into yours as his cock stiffens inside of you once more, you hope he fills you up again—on purpose this time.
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draconic-desire · 9 days
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hiiiii ive been brainrotting abt sunday and his triple face god thing abababah thinking abt him handcuffing reader and interrogating them with the truth thing he does to aventurine ARGHH omg questioning abt who they were with cos hes jealousssss AUGH you dont have to write anything off of this i just hope this inspires you ily
oh you have read my MIND. I’m currently in the middle of writing a fic with dr ratio interrogating reader like he did with mx. stellaron…but now imagining that with sunday?? wow.
i’m totally normal about this man. i swear.
Yan!Sunday x Gn!Reader
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Fingers drum on the table, the only break in the suffocating silence engulfing the room.
“I’ll ask you one. Last. Time.” Sunday punctuates each word with another tap of his finger, and you gasp as you feel the Harmony sink its influence another inch further into your skull.
Despite the futility, despite knowing you’ve been trying the same thing over and over again for the past half an hour, you pull at your restraints. The metal chain of the handcuffs skitters along the table, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, but it does not budge from its steel attachment. You’re firmly and inescapably chained to the table in Sunday’s office, with said perpetrator sitting opposite.
He appears calm, but you’ve learned to notice the slight twitch of his eye, the falter in his normal smirk. His patience is one wrong answer away from shattering.
At your silence, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. His golden gaze is chastising, almost disappointed. “Angel, you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me who you were with.”
You only glare at him in response. Bullshit. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s forced truths out of you or affections upon you through the Harmony. The psychedelic pest in your brain is almost the norm by now, a poison he has slowly been feeding you.
Oh, Triple Faced-Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.
Those words are branded into the flesh of your brain, your soul. And tonight, if you tell him what he wants, even more blood will be spilled.
Sunday’s jealously is as calculating as he is. It’s a knife poised at the right angle to spear you, to pin you with accusations that you can’t talk your way out of.
Like in this instance, where he has deluded himself into thinking you are trying to leave him. He’s finally let you out of Dewlight Pavilion (you’ve learned that trying to escape the dreamscape is pointless, so you’ll take your freedoms when you can), and this is the first reaction you’re met with? Being dragged to his office as soon as you returned and invaded, prodded, and violated by the Harmony?
The pressure around your temples tightens another fraction, and you cannot stop the pained cry that escapes you. Rainbow streaks cloud your vision and practically pull the words from your mouth. “I was with friends! We were at the Dreamjolt Hosterly for a couple drinks, that’s it!”
Sunday merely hums as he stands and pads towards you, taking a position at your back. You’re unable to turn around to face him, but you can feel the weight of his presence, the promise of his power, as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck.
His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans in and whispers, “Liar.”
One word chills your blood to ice. “I’m not!”
The grip around your neck tightens in tandem with the pressure in your head. “Do you really think you can evade me, (Y/n)? My gales are perched in every region of Penacony, and THEY are by my side. THEY see all, hear all, know all.”
As if on cue, the Harmony rips through your consciousness, and it takes all your willpower not to pass out. Exhausted, you involuntarily lean back into Sunday’s hand, which seems to please him. “Now, tell me the name of the man who dared to touch what is mine.”
Clenching your eyes shut, you shake your head. You’re out of breath and stumbling along your words. “He was just being friendly, and he was drunk, we all were, and all he did was kiss my cheek; it was a dare, and I swear to you, Sunday, we’re just friends—”
“(Y/n),” Sunday interrupts. “His name.”
The finality in the Family head’s words sends your heart plummeting. You feel your resolve slip as the Harmony tightens its grip and goes in for the kill. You speak the name aloud, barely a whisper, and know that you’ve just delivered the man’s fate.
In your half-conscious state, you barely register Sunday removing your cuffs and scooping you into his arms. He tucks you into his chest bridal-style, his wings fluttering across your face. “You did well, my angel.”
“Please,” you breathe, your voice wobbly with tears, even as you feel the Harmony retreat from your senses—for now. “Don’t hurt him.”
Sunday merely leans his head down to place a kiss along your temple. “Enough of that,” he scolds. “The only man you should be thinking about is me. After all, it is an angel’s duty to obey their god without question.”
And Sunday is, if anything, a vengeful god.
For that night was the last that you ever saw your friend. Death in dreams was your only reality.
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lookingformoondrop · 6 months
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Hiiii! Thanks for writing for tcoal! If you have time can I get a yandere Andrew x reader? Thanks :)
Sure thing~ Once again, it seems highly unlikely that Ashley would let this obsession slide, so for the sake of the story, she's been bliped. Happy (late) Halloween! <3
Yandere! Andrew GravesxReader
TW: Yandere themes, possession, obsession, murder, implied kidnapping, intimidation, stalking, Andrew has a foul mouth (Y/N too), not proofread
♡1,438 WORDS♡
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Andrew Graves has a mask.
It's a very well crafted mask that's used to blend in with his peers, his friends, his girlfriends, his parents, and even himself.
It covers the dark parts of Andrew that even himself is too terrified to look at.
For if you look into the abyss, it looks back at you.
But when he met you, swinging back and forth at the playground swing, he could've sworn he heard something crack.
You were beautiful.
As he watched you, with the breeze blowing at your cute overalls and baggy shirt, god, so pretty.
Your smile could open the gates of the heavens. Your laugh could make rainbows last, your tears would be prettier than diamonds, and you in his cage would bring him closer to your hell.
He couldn't help but imagine you as some sort of art. Something valuable that wasn't ever to be touched by another person. Only seen by him, just him.
His mask cracked the more he looked at you.
That day started a life-long obsession.
He would venture to that park a few more times after that, until eventually introducing himself to you. Naive you, who believed him to be a kind and stoic person.
You weren't wrong, but it was your fault for thinking that's all it was.
Even if Andrew never admitted it to himself, the thought of you being his and ONLY his made his heart flutter.
How when you breathed, when you walked, when you spoke, when you laughed, it would all belong to him.
Those thoughts kept him awake at night, even if a light blush would always dust his cheeks.
As time went on, he learned that his dakmfk thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind would only resurface when a man talked to you. Even a father-figure was enough to put him in a foul mood.
Andrew didn't say anything, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his blood boil.
"Andy? Are you okay? You've been glaring at the ground even since we walked past Mr. Mancho."
"Why do you even like him? He's so...weird," Mr. Mancho was an innocent looking math teacher, one that always smiled at the students. And yet, Andrew hated the fact he smiled at Y/N...he didn't like that very much.
"Weird? He's been pretty nice to me...," You scratched your chin in deep thought, "do you not like Mr. Mancho?"
Andrew looked up at your doe eyes and heard something crack again,
"...he keeps looking at my things."
Andrew justified his growing hatred.
Even as you shrugged away his weird moods whenever you talked to cousins, friends, and teachers, Andrew never lacked as your friend.
Through every obstacle, he'd be there to help you jump over them. Although he'd complain about jumping in the first place, he'd never leave you.
He'd care about your issues, he'd care for your wounds, and he'd listen to your problems.
Especially when you were bullied.
The keyword here is 'were'.
While in school, a boy had groped you. When confronting him about what happened, his friend group laughed at you, claiming that you were just making shit up for attention.
This had made you cry when you got home.
Something that Andrew instantly knew about...somehow.
"Jesus Y/N, what happened?"
"S- Some boy touched me, and- h-he then said I was just making it up for attention! My friends all believed him a-and I," you broke down in sobs as your day was retold to your best friend.
As you continued to share your day with Andrew, he remained completely silent.
Several times throughout the call, you'd check if he was even still on. Still, when you called out for him, he'd answer with praise for trying to stand up for yourself, no matter what they had said to you.
You didn't know it then, but Andrew was squeezing his pack of cigarettes so hard that by the time he had gotten off the phone with you, they were all broken.
The next week, when you came to school, authorities were there questioning all the students. When they came to you, it was explained that the boy who groped you was killed and stuffed into his parent's basement freezer. Along with his friends, who all mysterious died in the forest, with some sort of satanic pentagon painted beneath their bodies.
You told the police you knew nothing, and all your friends who had doubted you came to you in an instant with apologies.
When you had told Andrew everything that happened he had only said,
"How strange."
As the years went on and you grew older, your friendship with Andrew always stayed strong.
Andrew would never say it, but when he kissed your cheek or patted your head, he was screaming,'I love you.'
But his dark thoughts, the ones he kept far back in his mind, would only double.
"Andy! Guess what happened today?"
"Hah?" Andrew turned his head from his spot on the couch.
"This cute boy at my job said he would love to take me out to dinner sometime!" You smiled brightly at the sly possibility that your bad streak with love would finally be over.
Every guy that ever walked into your life promptly bolted for the door the moment you opened it.
Andrew always told you that those guys just didn't appreciate you enough and that someone who bolted just like that was a quitter. Ashley?
But even then, you never gave up. Despite the long list of guys who ghosted you randomly.
"Oh...you said no, right? "
"What?" You walked over to Andrew from the door of the apartment. "Why would I say no...?"
Andrew looked at you with a dark shadow over his face, "Y/N, there are millions of creeps and perverts that are going to ask you out. They're only leering at you for your body."
You frowned at this notion,
"When you go to your next shift, tell him you don't want to anymore." Andrew thought for a moment and then shook his head.
"What's wrong?"
Andrew looked at your confused eyes.
"Just realized I have to get up early tomorrow to take out the trash."
When you went back to work the next day, he had quit just as suddenly.
Sad and upset over the millionth guy that ghosted and dumped you, you'd sulk to Andrew. Who would always make you warm cup of tea.
"Dumbass, you just keep picking quitters. It's not because of you."
"But Andy, I haven't had a boyfriend in years! At this point I'll die alone, probably with you right there to bury me with my hundreds of cats."
Andrew laughed at that and reached his arm around your shoulder.
"Just wait a little longer Y/N, I'm sure there's some jackass out there waiting for you."
"Yeah, right." You smiled at Andrew, "You're the only jackass I know, though. "
You leaned your head on Andrew's shoulder and began to fall to sleep rather quickly.
"The only...jackass...in my life... Andy, I'm sleepy."
Andrew took a sip of his tea and placed the cup far away from your drink.
"Rest Y/N. When you wake up, you'll have me right there besides you."
"Andy?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you, you're my best friend."
Andrew patted your hair as you drifted off to a drug-induced slumber.
"Yes, I'm your best friend," Andrew stared off to the distance as he thought about it.
"Soon, your only friend," He nodded at that statement, "Yes, the only friend you'll ever need."
His mask, although long forgotten, had finally cracked open.
You were his. Like a forbidden piece of art, it belonged to him. He was your painter, and as the painter, he declared you to be covered up. Only his retinas were allowed to peer at you.
It's your fault he went through all this effort to keep you safe. He's obligated as the painter to keep his art safe from dirty influences.
He's mildly disappointed in you whenever you speak to another man, but it's okay. It's his job after all to stalk the said man and hack his tongue off for even going to speak to you.
No matter how many guys he has to threaten, no matter how many people he's had to hack at, no matter how many people he's had to kidnap, it wasn't his fault.
It's yours.
All the blame is on his sweet, naive, poor, Y/N.
Still as innocent the day he found you at the playground.
"Still mine..." He mumbled as he stared at your sleeping face.
"Only mine."
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Thanks for the ask!<3
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willowser · 15 days
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"touya, are you my dad?"
rei's house is quiet this late, only alive in the muted whir of ceiling fans and the rainbow of colors from the nightlight out in the hall. touya can just barely see the distant glow peeking under the gap of the door; soft greens and blues and purples.
all the air in the room seems to evaporate, and instead is replaced by that awful, muggy heat that builds up in touya's hairline and in the creases of his skin, everytime he hears that word: dad.
he's better at knowing how to act around kids than he expected to be. not in some parental sense, but the bits and pieces of touya the big brother are at work again, slow and old and creaking—but moving nonetheless.
touya's thankful for the quiet; whispering hides the tremor in his voice. when he turns to the little girl in the small bed lying beside him, all he sees is you, staring back in red and orange and yellow.
"what makes you ask that?"
the little girl shrugs, shuffles around to push still-wet hair out of her face as she snuggles deeper into her blankets. touya doesn't realize he's holding his breath until she finally elaborates, clutching her little stuffed puppy to her round, full cheeks. "that's what people say."
it's not that you don't want her to know, but softening the truth for a kid ain't easy; touya's not even sure he wants her to know, quite yet, because it means introducing a version of himself he's not proud of. one he's never been proud of, one that still itches under his skin and makes his hands shake, one that wants to burn the guilt away instead of face it.
touya watches the soft blink of her eyelashes, long and dark, and when she looks back up at him, he's just—not ready for her to know him yet. because—
"would it be okay if i was?"
the little girl—his, yours—thinks for only a moment before nodding. "yeah, that'd be okay."
because this touya's okay, for now.
it makes him smile, even with the uncomfortable heat that's broken sweat all out across his body, even with the shame that's waiting for him out beyond the edges of the greens and blues and purples. even knowing that, one day soon, he's gonna have to break her heart the same way he broke yours.
touya shifts a little further down in the bed until his head's resting on her pillow, so they're eye level. he's half hanging off the thing, the tiny twin bed in her room at his mom's house. still doesn't have a place of his own yet, still trying to remember how to be a functioning member of society; gears slow and old and creaking, but moving nonetheless.
the is the only way he gets to see her right now, these few days out of the week that you let her stay the night, so he can get to know the daughter he's missed out on for far too long.
touya hums and forces a big yawn, closes his eyes and hopes she'll follow the act; shouto used to, once long ago. "'s'talk about it tomorrow, okay?"
the little girl shuffles around until she's a little closer, huffing against his face through her own yawn. "okay," she agrees, and touya waits a few minutes before peeking at her. watching her even breathing, in the red and orange and yellow.
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dark-mnjiro · 2 months
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make me :: adam x afab!reader
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Author’s Note: welcome to my hell. This shit eating grin sexist garbage man is now my entire world. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day. I’m in hell.
Content Warnings: angel!adam x afab!reader, explicit sexual content, explicit language, teasing, choking, missionary, mating press, dirty talk, unsafe sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia (if you squint), quite frankly adam is a content warning himself…
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Nonstop.
He had been ranting nonstop for nearly ten minutes.
Adam’s hands were locked firmly on your hips, keeping you locked and straddling his waist while he relaxed against the couch. You couldn’t recall exactly when you stopped listening to his nonstop rant, but so far he hadn’t seemed to notice.
“And Miss Sunshine and Rainbows think she can rehabilitate sinners-” he merely stopped to cackle. “And thinks they can just come up here and fuck up the good shit we have here-HA.”
You felt his gaze on you before you quickly flashed a smile and a quick to acknowledge you were “paying attention”.
His grip on your hips tightened before he began talking again. “Getting rid of the extermination?” He continued. “Can you fucking believe that shit, babe? Who the fuck would allow that?!”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes in an attempt to keep your expression invested in his words. Being Adam’s third wife had its perks, but his mouth was unfortunately one of the cons. You had tuned out of the conversation a long time ago, but your eyes watched his lips moving as he ranted.
How you wished you could shut him up.
“What a fucking bitch am I right?”
You blinked at Adam. “I suppose.”
“You suppose? Babe, were you listening to anything I was saying?”
Furrowing your brows, an annoyed sigh fell from your lips. “Adam—”
He let out a painful groan. “My wife doesn’t want to listen to me!”
Not again.
“Adam.”
“I can’t believe you weren’t listening to me!” he wailed.
Your expression went flat as you took your fingers, rubbing your temple from the impending headache that was to come. “Adam. I swear-”
He didn’t hear you. “My WIFE.”
“Oh, my GOD. SHUT UP ADAM.”
He was silent for a moment before his golden eyes narrowed at you. “Fucking make me.”
The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine before his grip on your hips tightened.
“Adam!”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Hm?”
“That fucking hurts!”
“Please,” he practically snorted. “You won’t do shit.”
“Fuck you, Adam.”
His tongue slid along his lower lip.
“Let me go,” you snapped before trying to push yourself away from him. His grip only tightened on your thighs. “You’re such an asshole!”
In one, swift movement, you found Adam on top of you with your arms pinned over your head. He used his body weight against you, forcing you down against the couch. The smirk on his lips only grew before he ground his hips against your own. The friction made you gasp before struggling against him again.
“What a little brat you are,” he taunted. “Maybe I can fuck this attitude right out of you.”
Heat rose the back of your neck before he leaned in and pressed his lips against your own. His tongue probed at your lip, pushing into your mouth.
His hands moved down your arms and found their way to your chest. You moaned into the kiss as Adam gave your breasts a firm squeeze through your top. His hands moved lower, gripping the edge of your top before quickly discarding the article of clothing.
Adam pulled away from your mouth before taking in your flustered expression as you tried to catch your breath. His tongue moved along his lips again before the corner of his mouth tugged back into his signature smirk.
Your eyes narrowed. “Come on Adam.”
“Hm?”
He was taunting you now.
“What does my pretty baby want?”
Scowling, you looked away. “You know what.”
Adam tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence. “I do?”
“Don’t act stupid!”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Heat burned at your cheeks. “Adam, please.”
“Tell me what you want.” He continued as his hands went to your pants. “Or I walk away.”
“Adam!”
He merely tilted his head to the opposite side.
His fingers brushed against the exposed flesh of your tummy before tugging lightly on your pants again. Heat pooled between your legs before you managed to mumble a small “fuck me” to him.
He leaned in. “What was that babe?”
You scowled. “Fuck me already!”
The golden hues in his eyes flashed playfully before he quickly made work of the rest of your clothing, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. He sat back, removing his robes. He so ready your legs before you felt the tip of his cock pressing against you.
“Ready?”
Glaring, you tried to scoot your hips down. “Adam…”
He scoffed before finally pushing into you. His golden eyes rolled back as he groaned, feeling your cunt squeeze him tightly. While he wasn’t the longest cock you had ever experienced (to be honest he was pretty average at best) - his thickness alone was enough to send you reeling. Tears beaded at the corner of your eyes as you tried to adjust to the stretch.
“I never get tired of feeling this tight pussy,” he moaned, offering you a shallow thrust.
Your eyes slipped shut as his name tumbled off your lips in whimpers. Adam adjusted his position, taking your legs and guiding your ankles to rest on his shoulder. The position forced him to take a deeper angle as his pace increased.
“Fuck,” he growled. “That’s fucking it, baby…”
He pushed your thighs back, pressing your legs against your chest. His favorite position - the mating press. You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix.
Smirking, Adam leaned over as his free hand came to your throat. Your hand encircled around his wrist as he squeezed your throat lightly.
“Adam…” you whined.
“Stay right there,” he growled before thrusting into you harder. You could tell you wouldn’t hold out much longer… Adam knew it too. He leaned down to your ear. “Clenching I see,” he groaned. “Gonna cum on this cock? What a filthy angel you are for me…”
Even balls deep… he couldn’t resist running his mouth.
“You love this cock don’t you?” He teased as your eyes squeezed shut again. “Can barely take it, huh baby?”
“Adam!”
“That’s it,” he groaned.
Pleasure washed over your body before your body shuddered with orgasm. Adam’s hips stuttered as his thrusts became sloppy. He wouldn’t last much longer. He grunted again before releasing inside of you.
“Fuck,” he hissed before collapsing on top of you.
Your hands came up and raked through his dark hair as you tried to catch your labored breaths. His nose brushed against the nape of your neck.
“You okay?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m fine Adam,” you assured him. “More than fine.” Despite his typical attitude, he always wanted to check up on you. Even after sex.
He chuckled. “Wanna go again?”
“Dumbass.”
“Dickmaster to you!”
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macfrog · 2 months
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Just me up at 2am wondering how many times Joel replays that wedding hotel room night in his head 🤔
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warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy, m masturbation, desperately horny joel word count: ~600 words
i think he thinks about that entire night and wonders what the fuck even happened there. the way the world tilted ever so slightly the moment he pulled open his front door and saw her on his porch – sunlight twinkling from her earrings, satin draped over her breasts in pale waves; the shameless flirting under the cover of rosé wine and beer, string bulbs and rainbow disco lights.
i mean, one minute he’s waving his newspaper at her like a grumpy old man, counting down the seconds until she’s skipping back over to her own fucking porch – the next he’s caging her against the bed in her hotel room, thinking if he doesn’t fuck her here n now, he might tear the entire place apart.
between the wedding and three weeks later? yeah, he might think about it – just a little.
might think about her dress, the shape of her body beneath it. the way it fell from her hips – just slipped down over her curves and pooled at her feet like venus emerging from the ocean. might think about her naked body: how, until that night, he’d only ever wondered about it – stealing sideways glances over the fence at her little shorts and tight vest tops. but now…now, he knows what she looks like. he’s seen her undress for him.
and i bet he thinks about her soft gasp when he first pushed inside, after she finally caught her breath again; feeling the size of him inside her, how he knew she didn’t expect him to be so big and so fucking hard for her. how much he had to focus on not coming within five thrusts, she was so fucking tight.
bet he thinks about it in the shower, one hand against the tiled wall, the other jacking himself furiously. mouthing the words he whispered in her ear as their bodies rocked together: how good she is for him, how pretty she looks all full of his cock. bet he still hears the echo of her moans, the sweet little laughs lilting from her lips.
and when he finds out she’s pregnant? shit.
when he’s watching the evidence of what they did grow right before his eyes? her body blooming: stomach swelling, breasts growing, her cheeks plumping and her skin glowing? knows that he’s the one who changed her forever? knows that it’s his baby she’s growing?
sure. he probably thinks about that part a normal amount, too.
and i bet he thinks about how he shouldn’t be thinking about it. about her.
not when he’s sure she wouldn’t look at him ever again, if not for their parallel driveways and the parallel lines on that pregnancy test. not when he’s trying to act his fucking age, date someone actually appropriate for a forty-eight-year-old with backache and still two decades off retirement.
but it makes it worse – the fact he shouldn’t be doing it. shouldn’t be relieving the heavy weight between his legs in the morning with the memory of her lips closing around his fingers, playing on a reel behind his eyelids.
shouldn’t be staring into space while he’s driving, hearing her giggles once they’d finished; feeling her nails as she drew shapes on his sweat-sticky chest. shouldn’t be thinking about her wandering around with his baby inside of her; her body growing ‘n changing all ‘cause of what they did together.
he shouldn’t be. he shouldn’t he shouldn’t he shouldn’t but jesus, he is. you fucking know he is.
dear reader, joel has absolutely wrecked the tape, the number of times he’s replayed that night. the vhs player is smoking.
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munsoninthedark86 · 4 months
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We'd Catch The Rainbow(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
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warnings: smut, unprotected sex, creampie finish, swearing, mentions of smoking weed, use of the word "daddy" pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader word count: o.7k a/n: well, here is a little something after being gone for so long. I hope I'm not as rusty as I think I am. Also requests are open!
He pumps into you, his mouth hot and wet as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck and bare chest. It feels like it’s been so long since you two have had this privacy and intimacy. All it took was a little weed and that look in your eyes. That’s when Eddie had guided you to the nearest bedroom. Your clothes came flying off along with his own.
“Shit,” he moans against your sweat slicked skin. “Missed my baby girl so much.”
You both look down to where he’s pumping into you, his cock filling up that tight cunt. He’s almost too excited by all of this. He slows down his pace, his ringed fingers coming up to press against your face as he cups your cheeks. You let out a muffled moan when his tongue slides into your mouth. It’s been way too long since he’s fucked you.
“Missed you too, my Eddie bear.”
He laughs softly at your cute nickname for him. You’re always so sweet and so kind to him. That’s what attracted him to you at first. Your kind and sweet nature made him crazy for you. You showed him softness he hadn’t felt in years. And now with you under him, your legs wrapped around him, he’s falling for you all over again. Who would have thought a few months away while you were gone on summer vacation would make him so needy for you?
Your hands reach up to brush some of his hair out of his face, and he leans in to kiss you. His kisses always leave you so breathless. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. He laughs again when he nips at your bottom lip and it makes you squeal. He loves hearing those cute little noises coming from you.
“You’re driving me so fucking crazy, baby.” He growls in your ear. “Shouldn’t have let my little cutie go away on vacation.”
His big hands push your knees towards your chest, burying himself even deeper into your tight cunt. You’re both left panting and gasping as the new position brings you both different sensations. You feel even more full of his cock, if that’s even possible. Your mind starts going blank as Eddie begins snapping his hips harder and faster. It’s like he can’t get enough of you even if he tries. He wants to be so deep inside of you. It’s the only way he feels like he can be completely close to you.
“Wish I didn’t have to go,” you breathe out as he slams himself into you. “But ‘m back now, honey…”
He drives himself into you over and over, relishing in the way your pussy squelches from being so wet. He looks down to see how there’s a creamy, frothy ring of your juices coating the base of his cock. It’s almost pornographic to him to watch himself fuck you. It’s better than any video he’s ever seen. It’s better than any picture he’s seen in a magazine.
“You’re fucking squeezing my cock so good,” he whimpers. His balls are drawing up as he feels his orgasm nearing.
Eddie doesn’t want this to end just yet. He wants you to cum as well. He knows if he works this out just right, you’ll both fall off the edge together. You watch through hooded eyes as he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it. Then he presses it to your swollen nub, rubbing it at the same pace as he fucks himself into you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you feel the fire in your belly being stoked even more than before.
“That’s my good girl,” Eddie praises you. “Cum on my cock, babygirl. Come on, cum for daddy.”
That’s all it takes for you to fall off the edge. Your gummy walls begin contracting around him as you cling to him. Your voice is shaky as you moan and whine his name. Eddie throws his head back as the pleasure washes over him as well. His orgasm hits him hard, making him grow weak in the arms and legs. He has to hold himself up as best as he can as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your insides white. 
Slowly, he comes to a stop and he rests his head on your chest. You begin playing with his hair and rubbing his back soothingly. You never want this moment to end. It’s a beautiful silence despite your ragged breaths as you try to catch your breath. Eddie chuckles softly as he finally lifts his head and kisses you so deeply and so sweetly.
“Damn baby,” he says between pants. “You know I’m not going to let you go for a long time, yeah?”
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nyrandrea · 7 months
Note
You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)
Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)
Word Count - 2k
Enjoy!
xxx
As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit. 
Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon. 
“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.” 
“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’” 
“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled.  “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.” 
Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm. 
“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.” 
“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her. 
The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned. 
“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked. 
“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.” 
“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice. 
“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.” 
Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.” 
“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back. 
“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion. 
Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew. 
You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.
At least, you were trying to. 
“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.” 
“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” 
“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.” 
You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often. 
‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from. 
“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.” 
“Oh no, something far better.” 
Now you really were at a loss. 
“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?” 
“I mean sex, darling.” 
This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else. 
“What?” 
The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach. 
“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.” 
“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in. 
“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.” 
A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more. 
“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.” 
“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!” 
“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt. 
“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.” 
“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?” 
You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part. 
“Alright, you can stop now,” you said. 
“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.” 
You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?” 
Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended. 
“You think I’m joking?” 
“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.  
“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?” 
“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?” 
“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.” 
You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.
A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them? 
“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.” 
Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on. 
It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one. 
The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling. 
It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who. 
‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’ 
As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist. 
“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile. 
“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.” 
“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way. 
“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.” 
“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?” 
You squint at him suspiciously. 
“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.” 
Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did. 
As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance. 
Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.” 
“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak. 
“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?” 
A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then? 
You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind. 
Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation. 
“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.” 
“That you... like me?” 
“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.” 
Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions 
“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.” 
The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles. 
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.” 
Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding. 
With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering. 
As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful. 
xxx
Links to my other Astarion works
Everything's Fine
Restless
Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you
Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers
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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 month
Text
She Don’t Wanna Marry Me
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Part 6
Lorraine walked through the shop looking at dress after dress. She couldn’t decide on the type she wanted and even worse her mind kept drifting back to your words to her a few nights ago.
I love you so much more.
Maybe to some, your love for her was obvious, but to Lorraine, it was you who didn’t know how much she loved you.
The number of times she would stare at her phone your contact waiting for her to hit the call button.
The long nights when she would lay wide awake at the thought of you not by her side.
Yes, Lorraine knew you were in love with her there wasn't a time she couldn’t remember you weren’t.
But there had also never been a time when she wasn’t in love with you.
Maybe it began from the day you punched Brian for making fun of her.
Maybe it was the day her dad walked her down the aisle to you.
Or maybe it was the day she had arrived at her university. Something hilarious had happened in her first class and when she looked over her shoulder to where you usually stood, you were nowhere to be found.
All she knew was every night since RJ’s proposal, it wasn’t him she had seen the rest of her life with.
Mindlessly, she grabbed a dress to try on before stepping back out.
She took three deep breaths before looking herself over in the mirror.
A sharp whistle breaks her from her trance.
“Well look at you.” Her heart skips as her brown eyes immediately meet yours through the mirror. You smile at her softly. She’d always loved the way you looked at her and the smile you wore now was one she always felt like was for her and her only.
“What do ya think?” She asked softly swaying back and forth.
“I think” you step closer. “you’re probably the most beautiful bride to grace this shop.”
Heat flooded her cheeks as the shop owner came clapping excitedly, Bobby and Maxine following closely behind.
“Usually I think it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but the bond between you two-“
She’s quickly cut off by Maxine.
“They’re not getting married. They’re just friends.” Something in the way Maxine said this made Lorraine glare at the girl as Bobby stared at her friend confused. You look down stepping back a bit and clearing your throat.
The once light air is now tense as Lorraine goes to change. Maxine steps closer to you.
“Hey Zuko, since it look like we’re all done…what do ya say to taking me out on a date?” Bobby’s jaw drops, it was no secret Maxine had been attracted to you since they had arrived but the way she was going about it was unusual.
Even the shop owner could see something between you and Church Mouse, so what was she doing?
“Actually Maxine- “
“Y/N.” As always, your attention shifts to Raine. “Do you mind taking me out for a few errands?” You nod turning to Maxine.
“Sorry Maxine, seems Raine needs some help and I was planning on giving her her wedding gift.” She forces a smile.
“Of course.” She says through clenched teeth.
You go to your bike, Lorraine hurrying after.
Bobby looks at Maxine who smirks at the sight of Lorraine getting on the bike behind you.
“The hell are you doin’?!” Maxine laughs.
“Trying to avoid a shit show of a wedding, that girl doesn’t love RJ and Zuko deserves a chance at least.” Bobby furrows her eyebrows as she looks at her friend.
“You have a plan.”
Maxine nods. “I do.”
Bobby looks at her friend. “Just be careful.”
The former girl gives a soft, genuine smile. “Of course, I’ll be needing your help anyway.”
She’s met with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised in skepticism.
“We’re gonna make sure she don’t wanna marry him.”
Taglist: @ijustlovemaths @ctrlamira @tundra1029 @friedryes @alexkolax
@wol-fica @natasha25052 @pdione11 @dksjskx @the-camilucha @niqmandu @pawiie @cozwaenot @evanivox @livingdreams97 @haughtsauce21 @autorasexy @dogtamer415 @karsonromanoff @wedfan2 @starry-night17 @originalpat @red1culous @canvascoloredin @bigbadsofty07
@osnapitzmel1 @rainbow-love4ever @paladinncleric
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baby-yongbok · 8 months
Note
Hey can I pls request asking bf chan if you can give him a handjob for the first time and then making him cum all over your hand 🤭
This took me to a headspace that is currently causing brain rot so thank you for ruining me 😭This is a lot longer than I intended for it to be but I promise its worth it lol Enjoy! 💕
Free Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Imagine
Word Count: 2,572
Warnings under the cut
✨Masterlist✨
✨Part 2: First Time✨
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Warnings: Cursing, Cum tasting (for like a second), that should be all of the warnings? So Sorry if I missed any!
Reader is Called: Baby, Babygirl
Chan is called: Babe
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Your relationship with Chan was nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and sexual tension. The two of you have only been dating for six months and you both agreed to take it very slow when it came to physical intimacy. You’ve done some stuff like making out, teasing each other over your clothes and even a bit of dry humping while making out but you have yet to fully expose yourselves to each other.
Today was one of Chan’s very rare days off and he promised to spend every second of it with you instead of working. The two of you spent the day doing absolute nonsense, you stayed in bed until noon and then ordered the most tasty yet unhealthy breakfast that you could imagine. Neither of you bothered to get dressed, you wore a flimsy tank top and panties and he wore nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. The two of you flipped through channels and played uno a couple of times until he got sick of losing. You played a silly game of hide and seek and even had a pillow fight. Your entire day seemed to come straight out of a rom com and you weren’t mad at that one bit. As it got later in the day your energy seemed to die down just a bit, the two of you decided to just chill and listen to music about two hours ago but it only brought your burst of energy back when Chan decided to try and teach you the choreo to Red Lights.
“You know I suck at dancing” You laughed as you tried to follow along with his directions.
“I know but this one is so easy.” He chuckled as he watched you mess up the move for the millionth time.
“I quit.” 
You playfully throw your hands up in defeat and move to change the song since the two of you have now listened to the Red Lights a gazillion times. Chan plops down on the couch, and you study him quickly as you move to sit next to him. He’s sweating slightly from trying to teach you the choreography and he’s slouched into the couch and man spreading in such a sexy way that you almost think that you’re crazy for thinking it. As you sit next to him your eyes catch a glimpse of the slight tent in his black shorts and you can’t help but to stare for a bit. Luckily, Chan has his head tilted and resting on the back of the couch with his eyes closed as he breathes softly, if it weren’t for his slight exhaustion your staring wouldn’t be all that subtle.
“What time is it?” He asks with a sigh as he lifts his head to look at the digital clock on the wall in front of you two. “Oh wow, ten o’clock already? It feels like it's six.” 
You chuckle and nod but your mind is on anything but the time right now. You quickly glance down at the outline of Chan’s member through his shorts before moving closer to him and throwing your leg over his knee and laying your head on his chest. 
“What should we do now? We’ve spent the entire day being adult children.” Chan wraps his arm around your shoulder slightly holding you against him and his fingers start tracing imaginary circles into your skin. 
“We could try to wind down for the night. Maybe I’ll go shower and you can do your little night time routine, put on your diffuser and dim the lights and stuff.” You smiled at the fact that he knew you so well, there was a certain atmosphere you liked to create in the house before you went to bed. You liked everything to feel soft and sensual but you weren’t sure if you were ready to give up the hyper fun vibes that were weaved into today quite yet. 
“Maybe” You moved your leg, throwing it over both of his and positioned yourself so that you were straddling him. “Or we could enjoy each other's company a bit longer.”
Chan’s hands found a home on your waist as he looked up at you with bright playful eyes. “Yeah? How would you like to enjoy my company, babygirl?”
His lips turned into a grin and he bit his tongue slightly in anticipation. You stared down at him with the same sparkling look in your eyes but your gaze was less playful, there was a glaze of lust over your eyes that Chan was slowly noticing. You know that he noticed it because you could feel the evidence hardening near your heat. 
“I think you know how.” You whispered as you leaned down towards his ear and left small kiss down his jawline. He let out a low groan as you continued to pepper light kisses all over his neck.
“Baby, what exactly is it that you want to do?” 
“Well, I still want to take it slow with you.” You kissed the shell of his ear in between sentences. “But, I saw that you were semi-hard and now I can feel that you’re completely bricked up.”
You chuckle lightly when Chan moans quietly from you sucking on his earlobe. “So, I was thinking that maybe… I could give you a hand job?”
You pull away from his neck to get a glimpse of his facial expression and honestly you can’t tell how he feels about it. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face before, it almost looks like a cross between excitement and confusion.
“You want to jerk me off?” He asks bluntly, making you blush slightly. You shake your head in confirmation and Chan swallows hard as his eyes search yours “Are you sure”
“I’m so so sure” You slowly get off of his lap and stand in front of him. He takes you in for a second, your pretty cotton panties are hugging your hips and your tank top is so thin that it might as well not exist. One of your tank top straps is falling off of your shoulder and your hair is back in a messy ponytail, his hungry eyes scanning you only makes him harder and his dick twitches as a result. You notice the movement and smile towards him.
“Can I? Are you okay with that?” He shakes his head before managing to get a meek ‘yes’ out of his mouth. You drop to your knees in front of him and trail your hands up his calves and then up his thighs under his shorts. Chan holds his breath for a second as you get closer to his member but he shakily exhales when you move your hands back down his legs. 
He watches your every move and keeps a close eye on your body language, he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself too. You smile up at him as you excitedly sit up on your knees and reach for the waistline of his shorts giving them a slight tug before dipping them down and freeing his hard cock. You’ve only ever felt his member during make out sessions or when he got hard from you being on top of him, this is the first time that you’ve ever seen his cock and gosh to say that you’re impressed would be an understatement. You shimmy his shorts down a bit more down his thighs before lightly touching his hard dick and taking in just how perfect it looked. It’s a bit darker than the rest of his body and has a pretty prominent vein running along the bottom of it. The tip of his cock is red and dripping in anticipation and only one thought pops into your head.
“I did this to you?” He grins down at you and shakes his head.
“You always do, baby.” You grin back at him before running your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times trying to get used to the feel of his smooth skin and get accustomed to his thickness. “Fuck”
Chan’s head falls back against the couch at the friction and it only encourages you to do more. You lightly run your hand over the head of his cock and his hips slightly buck into your hand. You rub the pre-cum leaking from his cock across his tip with your thumb and he moans at the sensation.
“Baby, I’m really sensitive. It’s been awhile.” You shake your head in acknowledgement before spitting in your free hand and bringing it to his shaft. He watches as you take your second hand and smear your spit over his cock. A low groan erupts from his throat as his brows furrowed and he bites his lip slightly. 
“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like or if I can do anything different, okay?” He shakes his head with a slight smirk.
“Of course but you’re doing fucking amazing right now.” You shake your head before bringing your hand back up to your mouth and spitting in it again. You wet his cock and then slowly start to stroke him with your wet hand. “Oh fuck.” 
You try to keep a consistent rhythm while you pump his length, slowly increasing the speed as he melts into your touch. “Just like that, don’t slow down.” 
You maintain the speed that he likes but you decide to spice it up a little. You lick your other hand and wrap it around his tip, stroking up and down at the same pace that you're stroking his shaft. His hips buck into your hand again and he runs a hand through his hair before taking a hand full in his fist and slightly pulling at it. “Oh baby, you’re doing so fucking good.” 
Your mouth waters a bit as you watch how he reacts to you. His facial expressions and the way that his toes curl at the pleasure makes you want to give him more. You can’t help but to wonder what he’d be like when the two of you decide to take it all the way. 
You change up your technique a bit and start twisting your fists side to side in a screwing motion making sure to cover his entire tip with your hand. A deep groan leaves Chan’s throat as your hands work over him. 
“You like it, babe?” You ask in a bit of a cocky yet sexy tone, it feels good to see the effect that you have on him. You can barely imagine what it’ll be like the first time you use your mouth on him. 
“I love it.” He moans out “Can you twist your hands and go up and down at the same time, baby”
You hum in response before doing exactly as he asks. His head falls back against the couch again and his back arches slightly.  “Shit, babygirl, so perfect.”
You raise up on your knees a bit and spit down onto his cock making sure to keep it nice and wet, Chan groans at the sight and his free hand reaches forward and lightly grips your chin making you look into his eyes. With his brows still furrowed he dips his tongue out of the side of his mouth and bites it lightly before shaking his head. 
“You’re so pretty jerking my cock like that.” A low moan escapes you as your eyes flutter shut momentarily and your lips part slightly. You bite your lip a bit as you keep his eye contact. Suddenly, his eyes shut tightly and his brows raise before furrowing again and his lips pull into a thin line. You lean forward a bit spitting down onto his cock again and the wet sounds that fill the room make the scene nearly feel pornographic. Chan opens his eyes and his mouth falls open as he shakes his head to encourage you to keep up what you’re doing. 
“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groans out and you swear that it’s the hottest thing that you’ve ever heard him say while you’ve been with him. You keep your hands going to a steady pace squeezing a bit more to give him a tighter feel. “Baby..” He moans out  and you moan back in response.
His grip on your chin loosens slowly before he retracts his hand to bring both of them up behind his head to grab at his hair as his breathing quickens and his hips buck lightly fucking himself into your hand. “Just like that” 
You keep your eyes on his and you watch as his cheeks start to turn red and he fights to keep his eyes on yours. “Fuck.. I’m..” His head falls back and he moans out loudly, you feel his cock twitch in your hands and you moan as you watch his first stream of cum fall against your hand.
“I’m fucking cumming” He grunts out and you slow down your movements as you watch his cum spurt out in hot bursts that cover your hands and drip down to the hardwood. Chan lets out a deep sigh and starts deep breathing to slow his heart rate. You slowly stop twisting with both hands and instead use one to jerk him lightly to ensure that you get every last drop from him. 
“There’s so much.” You whisper to yourself but Chan hears you and chuckles lightly.
“I told you that it's been a while.” He lifts his head to look at you, his hands let go of his hair and fall to his side. You haven’t let go of his now softening member yet and it’s purely because your curiosity is getting the best of you right now. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just.. I want to taste it.” Chan’s brows furrow again but before he can ask what you mean you bring your cum covered hand up to your mouth and take a small taste. His eyes widen as he watches your tongue dip out and lick his arousal, a small groan leaves his lips as you look into his eyes and lick it again, taking a bit more this time. 
“Not bad.” You shrug before standing from your spot between his legs.
“That was fucking hot.” He watches a smile creep up on your lips and you shake your head playfully. 
“Come on, let's clean up and wind down. You made a mess on the floor.” 
“Oh yeah I made a mess.” He laughs as he stands trying to avoid the puddle of his cum on the floor. You both go to the bathroom and clean yourselves up. Chan pulls up his shorts and just when you’re about to leave the bathroom he grabs your shirt lightly and his hand finds your waist pulling you back into him. 
“Thank you for that. You really were amazing, so so perfect.” He plants a kiss on your neck and you giggle, smiling wide. 
“It was my pleasure.” His fingers caress your sides as he leans into your ear.
“Your turn?” You blush immediately as you look over your shoulder to your smiling boyfriend. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Maybe.” You shake your ass against him teasingly before breaking free from his hold and sashaying away. He watches you with hungry eyes and you can feel his gaze on you. Maybe you won't be winding down anytime soon. 
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610 notes · View notes
siphvns · 2 months
Text
IN THE ALCOVE
azriel x reader
summary ; reader owns a shop in velaris that azriel happens to stumble upon. he can’t seem to stay away.
a/n ; gonna be so fr with y’all. the ending is not my favorite, but i’ve rewritten it a million times so please let me know what you think!
word count ; 2.2k
warnings; none!
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Azriel isn’t sure what called him to this little shop hidden in an alcove somewhere along the Rainbow. He doesn’t remember much of what happened while walking here, only that he was in an entirely foul mood after an unsuccessful scouting in the Autumn Court. But that doesn’t matter to him now.
No, the moment he set foot in the Palace of Thread and Jewels he felt it. Something telling him to go this way, then turn the corner, keep walking, turn again, until finally he stood in front of the door to your shop. His hazel eyes glance to the intricately carved wooden sign hanging above the door.
Velaris Thread & Stitch.
The Shadowsinger peers in the window first. There are mannequins in the window—one in a suit, the other in a dress—and behind those mannequins he spots different articles of clothing hanging on the walls, displayed on the racks placed in the space between. 
He enters without thinking any further, taking in just how many pieces there truly are on display. Then he sees��you.
Pretty little you, brows furrowed as you lean over the checkout counter with your face near buried in the pages of a leather-bound book. You’re wearing an outfit similar to what Amren would wear—baggy pants and a cropped shirt, true Night court fashion—with your hair falling in your face, one hand barely keeping the locks from your eyes. You don’t seem to care, though. He’s thankful you haven’t noticed him yet, thankful for his stealthiness because he can spend a while longer admiring you.
He stops himself before his staring would turn creepy to fold his hands behind his back and tentatively clearing his throat. “Excuse me,”
Your yelp makes the corner of his lip twitch, but he’s quick to shove the smirk away when you finally meet his gaze. 
“Mother above,” you rasp, the hand that previously held the hair from your face is now clutching at your chest. 
“I apologize,” Azriel expresses, though his amusement is barely hidden. “I did not mean to startle you.”
You smile and gods he’s not sure what’s taken over him. He breathes in sharply to suppress the beat of his heart.
He watches you take him in. How it takes you barely any time to recognize who he is, ow your spine straightens moments after. “Shadowsinger—how may I help you?
Azriel considers your words, feeling your eyes track his every movement. From the back of his head to his neck, his wings, the length of his powerful body, he feels your gaze take him in when you think he won’t notice. “I,” he pauses. His hesitation is both from your staring and that he really hadn’t thought about what he would say. New tunic? New pants? New…socks? Fuck. “Show me your finest…tunic.”
If you sense his hesitation, you don’t speak on it. Instead, you nod warmly and shut your notebook. “Any color or fabric preferences?”
“Just your finest.”
Humming, you stroll to the back. It’s Azriel’s turn to watch you, eyes tracking the sway of your hips and the swish of your pants. He takes pride in the way you shiver before disappearing behind the curtain. 
You emerge from that same curtain minutes later, a pile of tunics layered on top of your arms. “These are my latest additions,” you explain, laying the garments on the counter. “The embroidery on the neckline and tops of the sleeves of this one is a work in progress…I have yet to decide how I want to finalize the design. But you’re free to try them on if you so wish. Dressing rooms are down the hall.”
Azriel inspects the tunic with your embroidery on it first, tilting his head in thought. The design is similar to that of his own Illyrian whorls, and he’s in awe of how well you managed to capture the essence of it, even if you hadn’t realized what you were designing.
He decides to try them all on if only to spend more time in the shop, so he gathers the up with one hand and sets for the dressing room without a word.
He hears you huff a quiet laugh before the rustling of pages follows its melodic sound.
+++
“Shit.” 
Trying to stitch the design you and Azriel had come up with for his latest purchase, a custom suit jacket for Starfall in a month, was a nightmare. You’re sure the sharp needle has pricked your skin at least seven times within the past three minutes, and you’re starting to lose your sanity. 
Azriel’s come into your shop frequently as of late, each time an excuse rolling off the tip of his tongue the moment you ask how you can help him. 
“My leathers need mending.”
“That sweater you made me—I would like to purchase more.”
“I..need a…scarf?”
The last one had you grinning, tilting your head at him while you asked, “Well, do you?”
He shrugged then, asking to see what you had. You spent the next hour going through the scarves you already made, then you went through yarn in the back of the shop, and finally, after another twenty minutes of just chatting, he left. The scarf was forgotten and Azriel never mentioned it again. 
Safe to say, he didn’t need the scarf. 
You scrub your eyes to rid the memory of that night from your mind. It would do you no good to involve yourself with the Shadowsinger anymore than you already were. He was near royalty to you: a member of the Inner Circle, a close friend of the High Lord…he was something out of your reach. It didn’t matter how much he frequented your shop, nor did it matter how many times your friends told you he clearly was interested. Just because he came to the shop almost every day that doesn’t mean he likes you, right?
Maybe he just needs clothes.
The fabric of his suit jacket under your fingertips does little to distract you. You let Azriel know when he came in a few days ago that his sweaters would be ready today, and that he could come in to pick them up whenever. He nodded in understanding, saying he would be here before he left without another word. 
A ring pulls you from your thoughts. The bell on your door—Azriel. 
His work-in-progress order almost falls to the floor with how quick you jump up. You place the jacket on the table hastily, hands smoothing the fabric of your pants and brushing your hair from your face to look somewhat presentable.
Your appearance is forgotten when you exit the back room and see those wings, that face.  
“You’re early today,” You remark, smiling softly at him as you slide up to the register. 
Azriel shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked those sweaters.”
“Are you sure you aren’t in need of a new wardrobe?” You tease the Illyrian whilst gathering his latest order from under the counter. 
Azriel cracks a smile. It’s one that you’ve been blessed with seeing as of late: gentle, relaxed, joyful. His hands drag along a rack of dresses mindlessly as he makes his way to you. “Nothing I own is as beautiful as what you have made for me.”
Your hands falter. “Well then,” you dip your head to try and hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m honored, Shadowsinger.”
He makes it to your counter, leaning against it with his head tipped sideways as he studies you in a way that makes your heart race. “Azriel.” He speaks after a long stretch of silence. “Call me Azriel.”
Again, you dip your head. Is it possible for your cheeks to get any hotter? “Of course.” You mumble, fingers fumbling for a bag to put his sweaters in. 
The colors are…very Azriel. One dark blue, one ash grey, and one inky black. His original sweater was dark blue as well, but a shade darker than the one he recently ordered. Shocking. 
It’s silent while you package the sweaters, but Azriel’s eyes on you is loud enough. You know if you squirm, he’ll clock the movement and you would rather not have him knowing just how much of an affect he has on you. 
After what feels like an eternity, you slide the bag of sweaters over to him.
“Here,” Azriel grunts, pushing you a pouch containing an excessive number of marks. He holds up a hand as you begin to protest. “It’s a thank you on top of my payment.”
You frown, brows knitting together. “That’s—
“Please,” He whispers, eyes pleading with you. “I’ve made some absurd requests since I’ve been coming here, and you’ve fulfilled all of them. It’s a thank you for my…bullshit.”
Your lips slowly stretch into a smile before you’re taking the pouch of marks from him with a hum. “Your bullshit is appreciated.”
“Is that so?” Forearms now resting on the counter, he gives you a lazy smile. You curse him internally for it.
Coughing, you turn from the counter to busy yourself with cleaning. “Yes,” you hum. “You’re a nice change of pace compared to my typical customers.”
You see him nod but he doesn’t say anything, another round of silence stretching on between the two of you. This is something you’ve grown to like. Azriel looks around at your work, you fuss about brushing the dust from racks and the wiping away the smudges on your store front window, and the both of you enjoy each other’s company.
“I’ll be gone for a few weeks.” He says quietly, as if he was hesitant to break the comfortable silence. There’s no explanation to follow it because you already know what he means. 
“I see,” you mumble, shuffling back to the front counter. The room seems gloomy now, knowing that you won’t see him every other day disappointing you more than you would ever like to admit. You try to smile at him, but it’s forced and there’s no doubt he notices. “How very boring my job will be without you asking for special projects.”
Azriel gives a hint of a smile, leaning against the counter as he does whenever he’s giving you his full attention. “I have one thing to request of you before I leave.” He cocks his head, inky black hair falling from its haphazard style. Your fingers itch to reach out and brush it back. “If you’re willing, that is.”
“You know I am.” You shrug, trying to give that impression of carelessness that you’ve seen him pull off from time to time. 
“Let me take you to dinner.” 
“What?” you choke, blinking rapidly. All your disappointment is forgotten for the time being and replaced by a racing heart. “What about your…duties?”
A shake of his head. “Rhysand can come find me if he really needs me.” He gives you that pleading look again, twin to the look he gave you earlier. “A new place on the Sidra just opened. I’ve heard it’s lovely.”
“Oh,” you breathe, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. It feels strange to hear that Azriel, the Night Court’s feared Shadowsinger and spymaster is asking you on… “A date?”
“If you want it to be.”
Folded in your lap are your hands, fingers messing with the fabric of your pants. Azriel leans closer, and it’s harder for you to focus the closer he gets. A date. If your friends were here, they would be screaming at you to say yes. After they all laughed and said, “I told you so!”
Maybe you would wait a bit to tell them. You’re not sure your want to give them the satisfaction yet.
You clear your throat, meeting his gaze. “I…that would be nice.”
Azriel smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen, straightening to his full height. “Alright. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after sundown?”
“Sure,” you grin. “Don’t be late.”
“I would never,” he says softly, giving you one last smile before he turns to the door. 
He barely makes it our of view before you’re running to the back so no one could see you squeal and dance in a circle.  
+++
Azriel shoots to the skies after rounding the corner, thanking the Mother that you said yes. 
He’d told no one, but Nesta was able to spot his odd behavior with ease. She pestered him weeks ago about it, saying he was acting like a “lovesick fool”. He spent the night talking about you, about how many random clothing items he’s gotten rid of just to replace with your pieces. She’d laughed so hard that he nearly threw himself out the window.
“So, you aren’t just acting like a lovesick fool, you are a lovesick fool.”
He’d rolled his eyes and wrapped up their conversation quickly, claiming he had a headache. Her knowing scoff followed him all the way back to his room. It was the same scoff she gave whenever he came back from his visits without asking you to dinner.
Nesta would be pleased to hear that he did, in fact, ask you to dinner this time. And you said yes.
Azriel lands on the balcony of the House of Wind, making his way into Nesta’s home with a grin. She’s sitting in a cushy chair next to the window, a book in her hand that she snaps shut as soon as she spots the look on Azriel’s face.
“Well?” she asks, humor lacing the single word. 
Azriel flops into the chair across from her and he launches into the story.
Who knew that little alcove would lead him to his mate?
341 notes · View notes
queenimmadolla · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.
Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.
a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈
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While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son. 
  Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.
  Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.
  “Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt. 
  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”
  “Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.” 
  “I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.
  Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise. 
  Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving. 
  “Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food. 
  “With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed. 
  The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.
  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. 
  You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.
  “You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’
  “—I don’t snore.”
  “—And looking like you were in a coma.”
  Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.
  “Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.
  “Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”
  You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”
  “You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head. 
  You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”
  Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering. 
  Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose. 
  You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”
  Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed. 
  “Eat.”
  He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster. 
  While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.
  You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.
  And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.
  When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow. 
  “He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.
  He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.
  “Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”
  “You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.
  “Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.
  “You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”
  He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”
  You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.
  He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted. 
  “Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you. 
  “Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.
  “You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.” 
  Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.
  “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”
  The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.
  “You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”
  Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.
  He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love. 
  It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion. 
  The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really. 
  Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.
  For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.
  You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.
  It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.
  Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room. 
  He held you in your bed while you both cried. 
  And cried.
  And cried.
  Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you. 
  When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.
  “Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.
  “Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.
  “Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”
  Halle-freaking-lujah. 
  Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.
  “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”
  Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.
  “I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”
  The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.
  “Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”
  Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.
  You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.
  Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.
  Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes. 
  When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him. 
  “My little baby potatoes.”
  “He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”
  “I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”
  “Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore. 
  “Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”
  Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”
  “Pomise?”
  “I promise.”
  She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”
  “Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”
  Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of  the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.
  Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.
  Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways. 
  Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.
  After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.
  It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged. 
  You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit. 
  Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.
  Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you. 
  “What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.
  You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well. 
  “Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”
  The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her. 
  You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time. 
  It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.
  GOOD.
  On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.
  “Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.
  It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been. 
  Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat. 
  “Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”
  “I wanna see ‘em!”
  “You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out. 
  Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head. 
  Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one. 
  “You wanna hold him?”
  “Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.
  “Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.
  “‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”
  “Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.
  “He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”
  Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”
  “Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”
  “I heard you, his name is Wayne.”
  Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.
  “Wha—?”
  “His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”
  Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. 
  “‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times. 
  “I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.
  “When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”
  Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him. 
  Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete. 
  “So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”
  Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line. 
  Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”
  Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy. 
  Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”
  “Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”
  “Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.
  “Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”
  “No, Penny.”
  After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.
  You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.
  On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show. 
  “Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention. 
The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”
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