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lucrativesoul · 10 months

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The Neighbor

summary: you just moved into a new condominium and have the pleasure of meeting your new, older neighbor, Leon. instantly, you are smitten, and he wants to know more about you. oh, and you work as an online cam model.

pairing: id!leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 7.3k

warnings: smut, fingering, masturbation, turning leon into an obedient little boy

a/n: take a shot every time i use a boring title... this plot came to me in a dream. of course, i immediately had to turn it into a leon story. sorry for being gone so long! life has been crazy for me. don't worry, i'm still here and trying to think up new ideas! help is always welcome. I'm still getting love on my other fics which is soo appreciated. i hope you all enjoy this one, and i will be back with another!

You were exhausted from the day, and you had to take a moment to splay yourself out on your floor, taking in your new environment. You worked to bring yourself here, so you will enjoy it however you please for the moment.

You found yourself in a new location, able to move out of your one bedroom apartment into a large condo, with the addition of a loft and second bedroom. Surely you knew it was more than you needed, but the satisfaction of knowing you could make this price back easily was too much to resist.

Pushing yourself up onto your hands, legs still stretched outward on the carpet, you grazed your eyes over the large boxes you had spent all day moving into this room. You had friends helping you all day with furniture and other boxes, but these you knew you had to take care of by yourself, in case one of them accidentally opened. Yes, your closest friends knew what you did for work, but you would prefer to keep it to your small circle.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself up onto your feet, immediately getting to unpacking and setting this room up. You were sitting on a small stockpile of content to post white you were in the process of setting up, which you did warn your audience about and were slowly posting your way through, but you were too eager to put this room to use. It made you want to turn on the camera at the mere thought.

Two hours later, the sun was now kissing the tips of the trees and the sky was golden. The windows all around were open, cooling you off, and before you could comfortably retire for the night, you had one last touch to your filming room.

You reached into the final box, intending to pull out the tripod, but seeing the box empty.

“What the…” You mumbled to yourself, looking around the room. You knew it was the last box, and were sure you didn't already take it out. You signed, almost a groan. “Fuck.” At least this would be the real final trip to the car.

The air felt nice on your heated skin, and with every passing minute it got darker. You popped open your trunk, rifling through the miscellaneous bags that were littered back there, probably with shoes and clothes that you could take in later. The tripod was buried underneath them.

Closing the trunk, you were about to stalk back inside when a figure off to the left made you jump. A man was standing by the street, headed your way.

You almost ran for it. You had your anxieties related to doing what you do, but you kept very cautious, and knew no one except your friends knew where you were located. Plus, there were units all around. You had to assume this was a neighbor.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” You shook your head in an it’s alright response. A man with a medium build and a few inches on you walked over, and stopped a few feet from your car. At least he had the decency to keep distance. “I live right next to you. I was watching everyone bring boxes in earlier, please know I would have helped if I wasn’t home for only an hour in between my shifts. I’m Leon,” He held his hand out to you, you shook it, and responded with your own name.

“No, please don’t worry. We were totally good with help, there were almost too many people in there.” You giggled lightly, no longer feeling an intimidation off of him. “One day was all we needed. I’m sure I’ll be unpacking for months to come though.”

He chuckled. “That’s how I was when I was younger too, I moved a few times and put all my friends on an unpaid job to move and pack for me, saved me a ton of time, but that was the last time I trusted them to not lose any of my things.” In the last wisps of sunlight, you could see the golden light bouncing off his hair, long-ish, almost fell over one of his eyes, but cropped behind the ears. Stubble framed his strong chin. Good to know I have an attractive neighbor.

“I was keeping a very careful watch over them, trust me.” You shifted on your feet, recognizing the feeling creeping up inside of you. The urge to bare yourself for your audience, the innocent look in this man’s eyes, but your thoughts were forcing his face into itself. You almost felt guilty, you were sure Leon’s family would not appreciate these thoughts. “Glad I got to meet you, though, better sooner than later, so I can feel familiar with at least one person so far.” You looked towards his house, kitchen light on. “Hopefully I can meet your… um, wife?” An audible question on the last word, you could only assume he was old enough to be married.

He laughed stronger this time, but not at you. He shook his head. “It’s just me.” He said softly. His eyes grazed down to what you were holding this whole time. “You’re a photographer?”

You looked down, remembering what you had come out here for. “Oh, um… not really, I… make content. Like, youtube.” It was the safest option that you could throw out on the table, definitely not about to air out your business to this man you just met a minute ago. You were suddenly glad your filming room didn’t have any connecting walls to his space.

“Hey, that’s cool, I can’t say I’m familiar with that profession, but I can imagine it's more fun than a 9-5.” Oh, it definitely is, you thought. “I don’t want to keep you out here, go get settled, I’m sure it was a long day.” He took a step backward, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “If you ever need something, I’m here. Don’t be shy.” With a greeting, he disappeared into his house, and you soaked in the air to cool your skin before you knew you would be heating up again in due time.

–

Nothing but waves of bliss racked your body. It was exactly how you planned on ending this night.

You can’t really recall when you made this decision to switch from your original career path to this. A basic, calm life just wasn't what you were looking for. You liked the thrill, you liked doing what you shouldn’t be, and baring yourself online to hundreds of strangers was the furthest thing from your old path of being a teacher. Naturally, it attracted you, and it took over your life. You were always rational about it, no one on your page knew what you looked like, and you always found that ironic, how you felt so comfortable showing anonymous people you masturbating, but got nervous at the idea that they knew who you were. You didn’t care, though. It put you in this new home.

You closed down your stream with many thanks and gifts from your audience, and simply laid there for a moment, cooling down and catching your breath. Your phone showed it was 10:33 PM. You probably could have gone for much longer, but the day was finally catching up to you, and after a shower, you knew you would be sleeping instantly.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was the immediate dreams about your older neighbor, whom you had just met hours before.

You felt his large hands over your waist, on your neck, pulling you in to be closer to him. His body enveloped yours, the heat between you two spreading, his soft mouth gracing the skin of your neck, and you ached to be with him. The touch was so real, you were melting under him. You needed him to keep touching you, you felt him all over you. With every inch he moved his hands, you felt fuller by the second, ready to explode if he told you to.

You rolled over, face hitting the pillow, the last of his touch fading off of your skin. You sighed deeply, annoyed that this dream put you in this mood first thing in the morning, not even a chance to wake up.

Pushing your dream aside, you still had a ton of work to do in your new home. Boxes were still laid about everywhere, and it felt like it would never come together at all. Now or never, and you dragged yourself out of bed.

–

The evening was already closing in, and you stood in your opened garage, breaking down the boxes that no longer needed to serve its purpose. You had gotten more done than you were expecting, and subconsciously, every time you stepped outside to dispose of more cardboard, your eyes darted sideways to your neighbor's house. You hadn’t seen his car when he walked over last night, probably parking in his own garage, so you had no idea if he was home right now. You didn’t risk staring, as you could only assume the dark windows meant he was working. It at least gave you a little peace of mind while you worked.

Your phone started ringing a few seconds later. Seeing your friend’s name, you sighed, grateful for a moment of relief. Typically, these moments turned into an hour or two, but you weren’t complaining, you had done enough organizing today.

As predicted, you spent the next thirty minutes leaning against your car and chatting with your friend, who, yes you had just seen yesterday, but still had more to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw headlights pull down the street to your unit, and swung in and disappeared next door. Your stomach involuntarily lurched, being nervous to see Leon again.

You weren’t sure why, the interaction you had yesterday was nothing extreme, was barely anything at all, and the dream lasted a minute at most. It couldn’t have been anything besides the dream, it felt all too real for you to just forget it happened. Now, you knew, you were cursed with this knowledge that you had a sex dream about this man.

You watched as the garage door shut behind his car, let out a sigh, and changed the topic of conversation.

“Okay… something odd happened last night.” You spoke to your friend, keeping your voice low.

“Odd? Oh god, it’s not haunted, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it’s not haunted. I met my neighbor.”

You heard your friend gasp. “Oh, my god, and he's totally hot, right?” You could hear the fake voice she was putting on. “This is just like a lifetime movie. The hot neighbor, the little shy girl.”

“Shy girl? Where are you getting these ideas about me?” You smiled as you heard her laugh. “But, no, you’re like, right. He is hot. I don’t know how old he is, but definitely way older than me. I said I would look forward to meeting his wife, too, but he said it was just him. He was literally in my dream last night. I don't know what’s come over me.” You sighed, peeking to your left again.

“Woah, so, what I’m hearing is you’re making a movie with him.”

You scoffed. “Are you kidding me? I am not telling him. This is way past his time. He probably thinks it’s whore-ish.”

“Gotta prove him wrong, though.”

You pondered it, but knew it was no use trying to think it into reality. This was the one thing you knew you couldn’t tell anybody, they might say it doesn’t bother them, but it always did. Leon was nice enough to introduce himself the day you moved in, and waiting even any amount of time to tell him what you do would be a huge mistake. Better to let him keep thinking you did youtube-type content.

“Thanks for the idea. I’m definitely not taking your advice.”

–

You were standing in your kitchen, washing the few plates you used for your own dinner when the doorbell ringing out through the home made you jump. It was probably a friend, but you were confused at the lack of warning before showing up. At least you weren’t upstairs.

Opening the door, you were stunned in a momentary silence when none other than Leon was standing at your doorstep, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his mail.

“Oh, hi Leon, I thought you were one of my friends.” You opened the door wider, but stayed planted, letting him stay outside.

“I guess I don’t have a great track record for not scaring you so far.” He smiled and tilted his head gently, and you responded with a smile. “I got some of your mail by accident. Couldn’t open your mailbox back up so, just thought I’d bring it by since I saw your light on.” You reached out and took an envelope from him, realizing it was from your cam company. Your stomach twisted for a moment, but you just hoped he didn’t recognize the name.

“Oh, thank you, I hope you won’t be making this trip too often for just that, then.” You lowered your hand, and suddenly remembered a problem you encountered earlier in the day. “Actually, Leon, since you are here, do you think you could help me quickly? I was trying to put things into my kitchen cabinets, and I accidentally pushed something too far back, and I can’t reach it now.” You bowed your head bashfully.

“Yeah, of course, lead the way.”

You stepped aside to let him in, and after shutting the door, walked through the hall into the kitchen. You pointed up to the cabinet above the refrigerator, instructing Leon on what you needed to be pulled forward. You stepped back, watching.

He acted like it was nothing, while you had struggled to even reach it in the first place. With one hand bracing himself on the counter top, he reached up. Your eyes were instantly drawn to the hem of his shirt, which lifted with his body movements, and you were in a trance immediately. His waistband was sitting just a hair below the band of his underwear, which sat delicately on his hips. You could see the curve of the muscle along his torso, clearly evident that he works out or has an active job, and from the side, the thin hairs of his happy trail were showing, disappearing into his pants. It lasted for all of a few seconds, but it burned in your brain. It was all you needed.

When you looked up, hoping to cut yourself off, Leon was already looking at you. You had no words, hoping he had something to say, knowing he for sure saw you staring.

“Easy fix. Try not to push it too far back all the time.” He turned around, giving you a lingering glance, a small grin on his face. You followed him back to the door. “Unless you just need more excuses to talk to me besides a mail mix up.” You nodded, standing at the threshold while he hopped down the stairs, turning his head and throwing a wink at you before disappearing. It took another ten seconds of collecting yourself before you could shut the door behind him.

–

It was not long at all before you saw Leon again, you couldn't resist needing to see him. There was no way he didn’t catch you staring when you invited him in, there was no chance he couldn’t tell the way you were looking at him. God, you barely knew the man but there was something about him that made your stomach stir. You were thinking about him while filming your content, the thought of him made you finish harder than you had ever made yourself finish before. You teased the thought of filming with him, even, and that had you weak. You knew he would never do it, whatever he did for work, it was probably much more legit to society than yours was.

You had invited him to come over tonight for drinks a few days ago. He was on his way out as you were on the way in, and decided to rip the bandaid off and invite him over to spend time with you. What brought this on? Nothing except the onslaught of thoughts of him, and a little convincing from your best friend, of course.

Taking a shot in the dark, you had on a small black dress. It was casual enough to be worn around company, but styled so it read obviously as, we’re drinking at my house and I need you to look at my body. You hoped the message would be received.

The nerves were starting to boil up, and he wasn't even in your house yet. You unscrewed the nearest bottle of clear liquor and threw back a shot, needing to warm up your system and shut down your nervous response. It wasn’t going to be a big deal, he’s just the neighbor.

There was no time for the shot to kick in before knocking was heard through your quiet home. Swallowing the heartbeat rapidly rising in your throat, you stalked over to the door and swung it open.

Leon was casual, but looking the same as he did the night you met him. Nothing about it deterred you, it only drove your inner lust even further.

“Not too early, right?” Leon grinned as you slid aside for him to enter.

“Not at all. Maybe even late, I’m a few drinks ahead already.” He laughed as he followed you, and you were hyper aware of the way your body was moving throughout your house. You grabbed a glass and offered him what you have, and sat next to him at your island, facing him with a wine glass in hand.

“What do you do for work, by the way? All I remember is you mentioning your odd hours.” You took a sip as he started answering you.

“I work with the government, technically. I used to be a lot more active when I was younger, but now They have me just go in whenever they need me. Used to be a lot of physical work, but I’m not that good anymore.” He had a shy grin on his face and lowered his gaze into his glass.

“What? You’re kidding, You still look like you’d be perfectly fit for an active job. I don’t believe that.”

He looked up and made eye contact with you. “I’m glad you think so, someday I’ll have to prove it to you.” A lapse of silence, for once the alcohol didn’t give you a prompt to respond with. Leon was still looking into your eyes, and you felt a heat rising in your chest. He straightened up suddenly. “You know, I’m curious how similar this unit is to my own, I’ve never been in any of them. Tour?” He grinned, and you slid off your seat after a giggle.

You walked into the dining room. “Still empty, obviously, I probably won’t ever use this, I like eating in my kitchen more.” Leon kept his drink in hand as you two walked. You left the dining room and down the short hall into the living room. “Maybe one of my favorite rooms, I love looking up into the loft.” You both looked up to the high ceilings and the loft railing to the left.

“Let’s go up there.” He lowered his gaze from the loft to you. You felt your stomach twist momentarily, knowing exactly what was up there, but you couldn’t say no, that would make it all the more suspicious. You nodded after a second, leaving the living room and turning left to take the stairs. You could feel his eyes on you, your body felt hot, and you hoped to god that you shut the door when you were done last night.

At the landing, you sighed with relief, seeing the closed door. You needed to make sure it stayed shut.

“This is just… storage, really. Since my room is downstairs and I don’t have much stuff.” You walked further down the landing, gesturing to your left as you did so. “And the bathroom. Is this similar at all to yours?”

Leon approached you. “It actually is, just a little different. I guess I should have expected that.” He let out a low chuckle, and you mirrored him. You turned back to the railing, looking down into your living room.

“Once I think I’m really settled, I’m probably going to paint these tall walls. I really love the idea of a dark space, hopefully the office will sign off on a dark color, you know how they are sometimes.” After no immediate answer, you continued. “It’s crazy moving into this space, my old apartment was like… the size of my entryway, so I barely have anything to fill it here, but I have high hopes.” Lost in your daydreaming, the silence snapped you out of it. Leon was not standing next to you like you thought.

Turning your head to the right, you found him standing in the doorway of your filming room, which he had cracked open and flicked a light on inside.

“Leon!” You could only stand there as he remained still, looking into the room, hand on the doorknob. When he turned his head to look at you, he was grinning.

“Sorry to pry.” He stalked back over to you, not bothering to close the door. “I get curious sometimes.” You stared at him with wide eyes, no words coming to your head. “You make… youtube videos?”

You could practically hear the light goading in his tone, the smile still on his face. You didn’t need to look into the room to know what he saw, and now he knows you were lying.

You weren’t exactly the tidiest person, especially when it comes to this room. While you are on camera, you shed your clothes and lingerie and toss them off to the side, and usually don’t pick them up until the next day. You were no stranger to using toys during performances, and you were sure there were plenty of those lying about on the floor as well. You couldn’t see them, but you knew you used them last night, and don’t remember putting them away after cleaning them.

You struggled to think of something to say, the silence was stretching thin now, and you hated looking so… guilty. His grin was growing by the second. It was making your stomach churn.

“I… never actually said youtube.” You sputtered.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that almost made you weak. “No, I suppose you didn’t. So, what kind of videos then?” He tilted his head, obviously knowing the state he is putting you in right now.

You took a deep breath in, tying together all of your courage to maintain eye contact with him. Quickly, you assessed the situation. One: He liked what he was doing to you. He seemed entertained by the embarrassment he was bringing you right now, much to your annoyance that you would deal with later. Two: He caught you staring at his body the other night when you asked him for help. He didn't say anything at the time, but you locked eyes right after you were staring at his muscle ridges, and he had that same shit-eating grin on his face. Three: He was not deterred by the idea of you doing this for a job, in fact, it seemed like he enjoyed the idea, just as much as he enjoyed teasing you.

After these brief thoughts, you forced yourself to spit out words that you never would have otherwise.

“Would you let me show you?”

Leon’s head slowly straightened, and the grin melted from his features, but his eyes never left yours, and the fervor in them only grew stronger. His dark gaze pierced into you, and you felt it straight in your heat, and in that moment, you knew you had your answer to that question.

With the hand that was free from your drink, and eyes never leaving his, you took Leon’s into your own, the rough, warm skin heating your fingers and palm, and you walked past him into your filming room, and you heard him close the door behind you.

You turned around, wasting no time in ridding your hands of both of your drinks, and you stared at him again for a moment. You couldn't help the shaky inhale, overwhelmed with the absolute excitement of getting to do this right now. You took a step towards him, lifting your hand up and gently placing it on his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

He immediately responded to the touch, his lips pressing into yours. His hand snaked around your hips, pulling you in closer, and you could feel his torso on yours, the heat radiating, adding to your burn. You could feel his grip, and by the mere workings of his mouth alone, you could tell he wanted this just as much as you did.

He backed you up a step, pushing you further into your room, feeling the plush carpet underneath your feet, knowing he was most likely going to try and attempt to lower you onto your bean bag behind you, but you had other plans.

Right before Leon could lift your legs to set you down, you stood up straight, breaking away from his mouth with a thin saliva string. He looked caught off guard, mid-lean into a kiss, opening his eyes to watch your moves with confusion.

“Sit down.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear. He obeyed your request, sitting on the plush bean bag looking eager. You sunk onto your knees in front of him, watching as he leaned forward with anticipation. You gave in to one last urge– you leaned in and kissed him briefly– before leaning back, supporting yourself on your hands and your legs presented in front of you. You watched as his stare worked all the way down your body, over your chest, onto your legs, in between them. You were sure your lingerie was on display under your dress by this point, but this was the exact reason you put it on.

“I want to show you my favorite kind of video to make.” You spoke without shame to him, wanting to see the reaction you can pull out of him. You could swear you saw him visibly swallow at your words, aching to see what you were going to show him. “You’re going to listen to me, okay?” He locked eyes with you, deep and sultry, and slowly nodded. “And you aren’t going to touch me until I tell you to.” He audibly sighed at this, both frustrated and turned on by the idea of only getting to watch. You felt slick gathering, stomach in a knot still, all too excited about the show you were about to put on.

“Tell me what kind of videos you think I make, now.” You never broke eye contact, but he wasn't ashamed to let his own eyes roam. You could tell they were glued onto the black panties plastered onto your wet pussy.

He sighed, and shuddered quickly. “You probably show yourself off to a whole audience.” He tilted his head, looking further into you. “Do you play with yourself on camera?”

You leaned forward, shielding your core from his gaze, and he met your eyes. You pulled your legs under you, sitting up on your knees, slowly peeling your dress off your body from the bottom hem, bringing it over your head. Despite being momentarily blinded, you knew he was looking at every inch of exposed skin. The tiny matching bra didn’t leave much for imagination, your nipples clearly on display under the mesh fabric.

The dress was thrown behind you without grace, and you returned to your position in front of Leon. He was practically sliding off of the bean bag, wanting to touch you all over, but listening to your earlier command.

“Did you think someone like me could do something like that?”

In between rapid heavy breathing, he replied, “I… I don’t know. I do now. Your body is incredible. You could.”

“Would you watch me?” He nodded, spitting out a few ‘yes’s. “What would you want to see me do? I usually do what people ask me to do.” You slowly leaned in closer, bringing your face just under his, waiting to see if he would move. You backed up again, scooting backwards on the floor, and with a gesture of come closer with your finger, he followed, sitting on the floor now, still not touching you.

“I would want you to take it all off. I want to see your body.” You giggled at his request.

“I could make that work… eventually.” He groaned at this, and you couldn't help but smile even more. “What else? Tell me.”

He sighed again, still locked in a stare with all your bare skin. “I want to see you play with yourself. I want to see you finger yourself… and play with your clit.”

You felt a sharp sensation travel straight to said clit at these words, and your thighs quivered with anticipation. You were sure you got your dominating point across– as dominating as you could stand to be in this situation. Leon was struggling, visibly, at that, and you were, too, but you were enjoying this too much to want to stop.

“Would you be touching yourself while I fingered myself?” Your legs fell open wider at the knees, feeling your folds peel apart. You needed contact there, but you could wait.

Leon nodded. ”I would. I wouldn’t be able to help it.” Only at this moment did you decide to divert your gaze, leaving his sculpted face to look at his crotch, an obvious erection straining against his pants, and his face almost contorted in pain from the pressure of it.

“Do you want to touch yourself now?”

He groaned again, his head rolling to the side. “So bad… I want to touch you so bad.”

You took a moment to examine the state of this grown man in front of you. You didn’t even know his age, but he was at least more than ten years older than you. He was practically begging for you to do something, for you to let him do something, sitting on your floor, falling apart at the seams, probably going to cum in his pants if you exposed yourself to him right now. You almost wanted to see it happen.

You held out your left hand to him. “Give me a hand.”

He wasted no time in outstretching his right hand to you, and once you had it in your grasp, you leaned forward and closed your mouth around his middle and right finger. Even just the contact of your tongue on his hand was enough to have him writhing, wanting more but not asking for it. Your tongue circled each finger individually, both at the same time, biting lightly to tease him. He was leaning as far forward as his body would allow without crashing into your body, and you couldn’t remove your eyes from his face, pleasure written all over it.

You were in full performing mode now, but this was a whole new level, giving you the added adrenaline for the moment. You knew exactly how to seduce, and while that had never been a problem for you, you felt like a professional right now with the way Leon was falling for you.

With one last long lick to his fingers, you removed his hand from your mouth and held it out in front of you. “You get to touch me, I want you to finger me,” His eyebrows furrowed for a split second, relieved at hearing those words. “But you can only use this hand.” He came even closer, but didn’t touch you yet. You still held his hand in yours. “Okay?”

“Okay…” He whispered breathily, and without even blinking, he watched as you propped yourself up onto your knees and pulled your underwear off of your body, casting them aside, and resuming position.

Your heart thrummed erratically in your chest as you felt totally in control of what Leon could do to you right now, you felt like you might die. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your naked core, fucking you with his stare, and you felt that twist in your gut again, wanting to make it happen, but needing to show him who was in charge.

He sighed, sounding like he was, too, having a hard time holding himself together, and he didn’t waste another second before you felt his hand make contact with your aching pussy.

It started with the pad of his thumb, you almost bucked your hips up in relief at the feeling of him pressing firmly into your clit, you allowed yourself to shakily exhale at the feeling of being touched, but you kept your half lidded eyes trained on Leon.

He tentatively rubbed circles into your sensitive bud, and you softly whined at the contact, not letting your guard down while he worked your sweet spot. He had his head still tilted, eyes flicking in between your core and your face, and every time he looked up, you held contact, and silently egged him on. After a few more circles, and eliciting more whines from you, he ran his spit-slick fingers over the length of your opening, you sighed, needing him inside of you. Without removing his thumb, he pressed the tips of his two fingers into you, pushing past the resistance, and both of you sighed in tandem when they were in all the way.

You rolled your head back slightly, enough to still be able to watch him, to make sure he wasn't going to disobey your orders. He was breathing heavily as he worked his fingers into you, making sure to deliver you the utmost pleasure, and also seeming to be pleasured from it himself. You could see the twitching of his cock through his jeans, and you were dying to get your hand on it, dying to get his own hands on it. You wanted, you suddenly decided, to get the both of you off at just the work of himself.

Watching him now, you knew it would happen, he was about to release all over the inside of his pants if he kept this up, if any more lewd whimpers and moans spilled from your lips, he would be finished. He seemed like the type of man to do more than one round, and you could definitely put that to the test.

Leon crooked his fingers upward in you, causing you to lose monetary control of your body, and your hips bucked upward slightly. You were fighting against it, but you used it to your advantage, using it to see exactly how your pleasure would affect Leon. He groaned at the way you writhed for him, writhed because of him, and he shifted his legs, allowing his denim to be the source of his own friction. You almost felt sorry for him, if only you didn’t enjoy seeing him so submissive for you.

Wanting to get the words out, they caught in your throat as he continued twisting his fingers and hitting every spot inside of you that had your legs trembling, and you could feel that you were close. His thumb was still pouring over your clit, making it harder to stay held together.

“Leon…” You moaned out. He looked up at you sinfully, understanding the way he was affecting you, but not halting his movements to hear you speak. You didn’t command him to stop, so he kept going. “You make me feel so good…” You whimpered again, letting him work you loose. “Listen to me, keep going,” He followed those orders, still watching you. “I want you to take your cock out. I want you to take it out and leave it out, don’t touch it until I tell you to.”

He groaned at this order, most likely relieved that he could finally touch himself. As much as you would want to be the one doing it, you’ll save it for round two.

“Can I stop to take it out?” His voice was nearly cracking, his emotions overflowing all at once, threatening to burst.

You cocked a tiny smile. “No. Keep your fingers moving.”

He visibly gulped, and his movements started stuttering as he attempted to do the two tasks at once.

You were now focusing less on his initial task just to watch him struggle with the new one. He sat at an odd angle, using his free hand to undo the button and pull his zipper down, trying to move himself just enough to pull his waistband down, but not enough to separate from your throbbing heat, which he stayed glued to like he was being sucked in.

Finally, it was low enough for you to see the bulge and wet spot from the precum on his boxers, and you were drooling with anticipation as he pulled the elastic down, freeing his girth from its restraints. Now, you were the one in a trance as his hard cock sprang free, hard as ever, straight at attention pushed against his abdomen as he did his best to not touch it as he took it out.

You sighed loudly, and when he was done, he looked back up at you. “Is that good?”

You nodded slowly, feeling his fingers come back to life inside your pussy, which was now aching for more of a stretch. “So good. So good…” You moaned out the last words, and you noticed Leon had to clench his other fist to stop himself from doing anything you didn't ask of him.

“Go ahead,” You whispered, but you knew he absolutely heard. “Slowly touch yourself. Follow my directions…” He immediately wrapped his other hand around the base of his dick, choppy moaning spilling from his lips as he did so.

You watched as he hesitantly tugged at himself, not helping any of the sounds he was making, but it was only helping you to climax. Half of the time he resorted to keeping his eyes closed as he did both at once, undeniably being overcome by waves of pleasure. You watched as strings of thin precum followed on his fingers every time he stroked himself, the pink head of his dick looking so neglected, so soft, you wanted to put your tongue on it and lap up all of the sticky, stringy precum to clean it up for him.

You could practically feel the texture of his dick in your mouth as you watched him, knowing it was becoming harder to hold yourself back.

“Stroke it at the same pace as your fingers.” You mumbled, clear enough to be heard. “I want you to bring me close, but I need you to tell me when you are close, too.”

Leon was practically panting as he continued to finger you and pump his own dick, with every up and down stroke of his cock, his fingers went in and out, the sound of squelching becoming even louder with every movement, everything he did made you more wet by the second.

Your forearms were burning from holding yourself up for this long, and your thighs quivered occasionally, and right as he hit the sweet spot inside of you again, you couldn’t help the squeak it produced from you, and you had to lower yourself to your elbows. Despite this, Leon was still obeying you.

You took a hard inhale before speaking, needing to collect yourself more than expected. “You’re so good at listening to me, you know that?” You half moaned out, feeling yourself get closer to the edge. You saw him nod meekly. “You’re doing so good, so good for me.” He kept groaning every time his hand hit the head of his dick, the sensation probably becoming overwhelming, the need to cum bubbling up inside of him, and of you.

Another beat went by before you spoke again. “Why don’t you pick up the pace a little bit? I’ll let you go faster.”

“On who?” He answered almost immediately, as if his brain was hardwired to only be obedient to you, and nothing else. That notion alone brought that flame closer to exploding in you.

“Yourself, bring yourself closer. I’m almost there. You feel so good.” Your breathing was matching his now as the both of you were panting loudly, and you fought the urge to close your legs as the sensations were sending a series of twitches down your thighs and calves.

Leon wasn’t shy with his reactions any longer as he continued to moan loudly every time he pumped his dick, you could see how red it was from both the rough friction of his hand and the neglect from having been bound up in his pants. It hadn’t even been that long, but you knew he was close. You could tell.

His thumb pressed hard into your clit and you shrieked again, unintentionally closing your legs as the heat rocked through you, you clenched down on his fingers and your hands gripped the carpet as much as they could, you were much closer now, and you were drinking up the feeling of him untying all the knots within you.

“Oh, Leon… I’m gonna cum…” You let your head fall completely back now, reveling in the feeling of him working on you, your stomach tightening every time he puts more pressure onto your clit.

With another sharp inhale, and a few strokes of his fingers, you felt yourself collapsing at the hands of him, your body shuddered and you felt the walls of your aching pussy tighten, spasm, and a flood of relief and relaxation poured over you.

Mere seconds after, you looked over to see Leon fisting his own dick, fingers still inside of you, overstimulating you, shooting ropes of cum onto his hand and shirt. He gasped with every spurt, his hand never leaving the base of his dick, his white cum dripping over his knuckles, his dick twitching gently after he was finally drained.

He slid his fingers out of you, eliciting another soft moan from you, and held eye contact while he gingerly licked your juices off of his hand. You swore that sole action made you ready all over again.

Leon pulled his hand off of his dick, the cum making a sticky sound as he did so. You slowly sat up, legs feeling more like jelly than you were ever used to, grabbed his hand, and licked a stripe up one of his fingers, thick slime coating your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

“I’m afraid I might get addicted to this.” He whispered, coming closer to you.

“And if I wanted you to?” Staring deep into his eyes, his pupils blown out, you could see in him that he, much like yourself, wasn’t done either.

“Your audience might not like that.” His voice was low and gravelly, a sound you wanted to get used to hearing.

You chuckled breathily. “Not if we let them in on it…” Your fingers slowly traced circles onto the back of Leon’s hand, letting the implication of your words hang in the air.

You saw a quirk of a smile in the corner of his mouth, and his eyes flitted behind you where you knew you had your camera set up. He met yours once more. “They might not be interested in round two.”

A full smile spread across your lips, and you gripped the front of his shirt to pull him in for a deep, hot kiss, which he instantly returned. Sure, maybe not tonight, would your audience see you fully fledged out for this man, one round in already, but you were sure they would be watching next time from the beginning.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil infinite darkness #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfiction #leon smut #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 months

Text

Moving In

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: None

Summary: a short Drabble on you convincing Jason to move in with you

Word Count: 963

Your house was a haven for Jason. It was somewhere where he could lay down and forget all his troubles or simply sit in silence and not be overwhelmed by the life outside of your front doors. Despite the occasional complaints he hears from you about the woes of homeowning, he sees no flaw in your home. You were well off from your job, able to buy a nice home in the same area that Wayne Manor sat. It wasn’t intentional, you had been living in this home before you knew Jason, and through the years you had completed various renovations and upgrades to make it reflect you. There was a garden in the backyard filled with your favorite flowers, a sizeable kitchen where Jason likes to spend most of his time, sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows, and a few additional rooms catered to your interests were settled between the walls of the home. Convincing Jason to move in was not a hard thing to do. He hated living in an apartment and hearing his neighbors talk or walk around in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep. You and Jason also found that it was a hazard climbing into the windows during the waking hours of dawn after patrol. A few close calls meant that most of the time when you were out on patrol, you two went back to your place to crash. It’s easy to say that he was delighted when you offered to let him move in after a long week of patrols gone south.

“You know, you should ditch the apartment, Jay.” You were laying on top of his chest, legs sprawled out over his and blankets nearly covering your face.

“Whatcha mean Doll?” He stopped combing his fingers through your hair and started twisting small loops into it with his fingers.

“Come live with me. You always talk about hating living in the city anyways and you sleep better there.”

“It would make patrols easier.” He commented, “You’re not delirious right, you’d actually want me to live at your place?” There was a tone of insecurity in his voice like at any moment you’d tell him you were joking.

“I am not delirious Jason.” You sat up and looked at him, “I have plenty of empty room that needs you to fill it.” “There’s plenty of room for your books in the library and you practically already live there. I’m pretty sure more than 60% of your things are already somewhere in the house.” “You could literally move in right now.”

“I would love to live with you.” He said smiling, “but I think we’d need to, you know, make sure everything is taken care of before I move out. My lease ends in a week and I’d need to pack everything up”

“We can get boxes tomorrow.” You said, “You can just start leaving things for the next week, plus, you don’t have to stay in the apartment even if your lease isn’t over.”

That was exactly a week ago and Jason was ready to move into your place. He pulled into the space in your garage that was meant for him with boxes loaded in the back of his car. There weren’t many boxes in his trunk, but he had a few odds and ends that he couldn’t send to Goodwill or throwing away. Most of the contents of the boxes were his books, some old mugs and pictures, the clothes that weren’t already in your house, hygiene stuff from his place, and other knickknacks he had around. After a few seconds of collecting his thoughts, he looked up to see you coming into the garage from the side door into your house with a smile.

You took his hand as he got out of the car and shut the door to walk to the trunk and start unloading. Taking a few boxes at a time, the two of you gradually unloaded everything and put it into the room connecting to the garage. It wasn’t going to take a long time for you two to unload everything, the most daunting thing to Jason was permanently invading your space. Taking the box filled with mugs, you opened the cabinet in the kitchen that kept all the mugs and started carefully putting them in like they were meant to be there.

“Hey doll, do you have a place you want all of this?” He asked timidly.

Usually moving in somewhere wasn’t a problem for him and he knew where everything was meant. He knew that you didn’t mind and just wanted him to be comfortable, but at the same time, Jason was afraid he would mess something up, make you regret letting him live with you.

“You know you can put stuff wherever. I mean obviously shampoo and conditioner belong in the bathroom and dishes in the kitchen but Jay, this is your home, I don’t mind.” You said comfortably.

Jason felt his heart swell at your words. This was his house now. You might have been there first, but you were telling him that this was allowed to be his home. Everything was perfect, nothing was popping Jason’s bubble now.

He set his stuff down and watched as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. In a moment of silence, he ran his fingers through your hair and put his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m glad you’re here now.” You said softly, “I hated when you had to leave.” Jason held onto you tighter and lifted your chin with his finger, “I love you y/n/n. You’ve given me the best life I could have ever lived.”

“I love you too Jay.”

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fluff #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine

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sataniquepanique · 13 days

Text

Book Dragon

Summary: What I imagine is a common occurrence at camp with my Tav. She is a hoarder and frequently dumps inventory into the camp supplies and forgets which important objects she needs for quests. (This is dumb but I just needed to get it out of my head)

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (use of she/her)

Tags: fluff, established relationship.

The frantic crunching of gravel was the first indication that someone had arrived to their camp. Immediately upon hearing the rustling coming through the underbrush, Shadowheart rose from her kneeling meditation, hand braced on the dagger at her hip. From across the slowly-dimming fire pit, Lae’zel mirrored the cleric; double blades resting in her palms as her ochre eyes scanned the tree-line for the incoming threat.

The second indication came from the muffled voices beginning to carry through the forrest. There were at least two, neither of which were decipherable at this distance (Halsin’s snores emanating from his tent didn’t help the matter).

The third indication was the sight of four familiar individuals bursting through the trees, the first two seemingly in a heated argument. Tav was strides ahead of Astarion, making a beeline to her tent next to Shadowheart.

“All I’m saying is that—“

“—I know I have it somewhere, Astarion!” She threw open the tent flap and slammed both knees onto the shabby rug that lined the floor. Dumping out bag after bag of books, random stones, empty potion bottles, and a few stolen pieces of jewelry, she began to frantically tear through the contents in search of something.

“Darling,” Astarion leaned against the frame of her tent, voice tense with the clear restraint he was exerting, “I’m sure if you had it, it would be in your pack. Maybe, if you didn’t hoard tomes and scrolls like some sort of…book dragon,” he flourished a hand for emphasis, “then you’d be able to keep track of your belongings more easily.”

“Maybe, if you helped me look and stopped running your pointy mouth for a moment, we’d be able to find it faster.”

Astarion’s face was expressionless and unreadable as he stared at her digging through a large chest, “Oh darling, please don’t be mean to me,” he drawled sarcastically, “you know how it turns me on.”

Tav’s head whipped around, eyes blazing as she stared at her lover (the thought of which still confused the rest of the party). She continued her ravenous search through the tent, tossing weapons and pillows all over the small area rugs as the other party members watched on, half in confusion and the other in exasperation.

“What’s going on?” Shadowheart glanced uncertainly over at the scouting party, hand finally leaving the hilt of her dagger.

Karlach shrugged, swaying to an imaginary beat that seemingly played on a constant loop in her head, “Tav needs a book—“

“—More like Tav trekked us through the wilderness for hours to find the Mystic’s tomb, only to double back through treacherous territory just to look for a bloody book, that she may or may not even have, based on a hunch!” Astarion threw out his hands in exclamation, dirt and blood shimmering along his face in the firelight.

“—She needs the journal we found a few days ago in the temple. We think it may have the key to figuring out where the Mystic’s amulet is. If we get the amulet, we can end him for good,” Gale added valiantly.

“You two think it’s the key,” Astarion drawled, motioning between the wizard and Tav, “I for one think we can just—“

“AH-HA!” Tav leapt up with a yell, holding a decrepit leather book in her upheld hand. “I knew I had picked it up, I guess I had stashed it in the communal trunk to make more room in my pack.”

Astarion rolled his garnet eyes, “Please enlighten us all on the vast wisdom scrawled haphazardly by this half-dead freak.”

Tav’s eyes sparkled in challenge as she held out the ancient book to him.

“What do you want me to do with it?” He scoffed, eyes darting between her and the yellowed pages.

Tav smiled sweetly, a terrifying gesture that caused Karlach to cringe slightly from a few feet away, “I just figured that if this was written by some ‘half-dead freak’, then it could only be deciphered by another ‘half-dead freak”.”

Astarion blinked in surprise, his aloof mask slipping momentarily by her remark. He narrowed his eyes as she smirked and clutched the book to her chest.

“I think we should take the night to re-group and rest before setting out again tomorrow at first light. I’ll comb through the journal tonight and see what I can find,” She nodded confidently.

Gale stepped closer to her side, “If you’d like company, I’d love to assist.”

Astarion stiffened, ceasing his casual leaning to stand upright. Before he could get a word out, Tav gave a soft smile and shook her head.

“I appreciate the offer Gale, but I’ll be able to focus better if I’m alone. Once I figure anything out I’ll let you know though.”

Astarion loosed a breath, watching as the wizard nodded and strode off to his own tent, hiding his defeat behind a cool mask. As the rest of the camp began to disperse, Astarion lingered at Tav’s tent, feigning interest in a loose thread hanging from his sleeve.

“Goodnight, Star,” she shuffled in the dirt towards her bedroll, the events of the day finally catching up with her. Limbs feeling like a million pounds and eyelids full of sand, she reached to push the tent flap aside when she felt a cold grip on her other wrist.

Astarion pulled her gently backwards, “Where are you going?” His voice was soft and filled with a lingering apprehension that tugged at Tav’s heartstrings.

“To my tent? I have to dig through this book before we leave tomorrow…”

Astarion noticed how bloodshot her eyes were; she was exhausted.

“Let me,” he gingerly pried the book from her fingers. Tav looked at him in confusion.

“I’ll read through it tonight, you should sleep.”

“Star, you don’t have to,” she shook her head, “Let yourself rest—”

“Darling,” Astarion brought a hand up to cradle her cheek, “It’s not up for debate.”

Tav turned and kissed his palm. Breaking into a slow smile, Astarion tucked her into his side and began to lead over towards his tent.

“Does this mean you’re not actually mad at me about dragging you back here prematurely?” She smirked.

Astarion scoffed. “Oh love, I’m incredibly annoyed,” he squeezed her tighter, “but unfortunately, I’m also quite fond of you and will follow anywhere you ask.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #astarion blurb #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion x female reader

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 9 months

Text

Catching Up

Requested?: No/Yes by ppl in part 1

Notes: this sucks and also why not

Description: Bill meets his kids for the first time as dad.

"...so you were pregnant?" Was the only thing Bill could say.

Or all he could muster up, sitting next to you in the empty stadium, sitting on instrument trunks as your children, Tom, Gustav and Georg all ran around to give you guys privacy.

You nodded, quiet as Bill sat riddled in guilt and questions. But all he could mutter was one thing for now.

"Do you…do you need anything?" Bill muttered, looking at you as your shoulders tense, and out of instinct and immediate offense, you furrowed your brows.

"If you're asking if I need money then stop. I don't fucking need it." You said, defensive out of instinct as you nodded to your kids.

"As you can tell, I've been good without it."

"No- no! Shit…I'm sorry. I just meant- like if they needed anything. Or if you're okay. I…I don't know what to do." Bill muttered, eyes widened as he shook his head, panicked in fear of offending you.

In truth he was nervous, scared and shocked and somewhat relieved.

You immediately felt guilty, shoulders softening as you sighed, rubbing your temple.

"Sorry, I…I didn't mean to be rude." You shook your head, giving an apologetic look as Bill somewhat relaxed, meeting your eye as he softly nodded.

"I just read all these shit articles about dads coming into kids' lives and taking them away. I didn't-" you shook your head before Bill interrupted you.

"It's understandable. It's fine." Bill added softly, agreeing as he held his hands in his lap.

You sighed a bit out of relief, both of you falling silent for a beat before you noticed the saddened look on Bill's face.

"...I know it's a shock. But if you don't want to you don't have to be around-" you tried quickly. "It's just they deserve a dad and-"

"No! No, I wanna be their dad. That's not a question." Bill cut you off quickly, putting a hand on your knees to stop you as he said so.

You looked at his hand for a moment then to him, looking over his face before you saw the genuine urge to be there in his eyes.

You softly nodded and only then did Bill realize where he put his hand, slowly retracting it as he cursed at himself.

"It's just…different. I didn't expect it. And- I don't want them to be mad at me for not being there." Bill sighed as he explained.

"It's not your fault..

"Yes, it is. You tried to get a hold of me and because of who I am, you couldn't. So yes, it is." Bill stated firmly, fully believing it to be true.

"I don't think I can make that up to them. And you…"

You stared at Bill for a moment as he seemed to avoid your eyes. You sighed, frowning at his face.

"...I know it's not the same, can you be there now?" You asked softly, Bill looking back up at you confused as you chuckle at his expression, nodding over to your daughter.

"She's asked about you. Ever since she should talk. He is too."

You added once more, eyes softened and looking at Bill's face as you saw the expression he held as he stared at his kids playing with his twin brother.

"I want to…but they don't know me at all. And it's my fault." Bill sighed, looking down as he had his elbows in his knees, leaning forward as he sighed.

"It's not your fault." You added immediately, shaking your head. Bill scoffed sarcastically.

"Yeah. It is. They had first steps, first words, everything." Bill said, looking over at you for a moment before he went back to looking at the floor.

"And I wasn't there for any of it…"

"I can show you pictures, videos. Anything you want." You offered quickly, wanting nothing more than for him to just be there for them.

"It's not the same." Bill said quietly, playing with the rings on his fingers. You sighed, shoulders slumped.

"Come on, don't be like that."

"How can I not?" Bill asks, sitting back up as he turns over to you. "I mean- what if I'm not even a good dad? I may suck-" Bill went on, cut off by your chuckling.

"Hey! What?" Bill asked, slightly offended but more amused as you continued laughing, his own shoulders slumped as he tried to find the humor.

"You think I didn't have those same doubts?" You chuckled softly.

"I was seventeen and pregnant, and you're barely finding out now. Of course you're scared." You explained softly to Bill, smiling at him in amusement.

"I know but-"

"No buts. The thing is if you wanna be a part of their lives or not. So, do you?" You cut off Bill, leaving no room for discussion.

Bill fell silent at your words, studying your face for a moment as he took in everything.

He took in you, your son and your daughter.

Who were now his son, and his daughter.

And maybe, just maybe, he could actually have a shot at something real.

So with one final sigh and a deep breath, Bill nodded, turning to look at your kids as they played while tackling Georg to the ground as Tom cheered them on and as Gustav fought for his drum sticks back.

"(D/n)! (S/n)! Come here for a minute." Bill could barely breathe as you called out for your kids.

Their heads snapped to you, deciding to ultimately stop terrorizing Bill's friends and brother as their little feet ran over to you.

"Yes, mama?" Your son nodded, a complete mamas boy with admiration stemmed from his birth with wide eyes of love looking at you.

Your daughter however was sassy, always having something to say but loving and kind, and even if it was hidden, she still loved you and her brother.

And soon enough, her dad.

You took both your babies hands, pulling them softly towards you before you turned them to face Bill with a soft smile.

You nodded, encouraging them and Bill as you spoke.

"Baby…this is your dad."

Your daughter and son looked at you with a blank face for a moment. They then turned to each other quietly, having a silent discussion.

After what felt like a lifetime they finally looked at Bill. Their dad.

Bill finally took in how alike they looked. And how much they looked like him. He felt no out but he picked apart every feature of his and yours.

And he couldn't help but admit they were the most beautiful kids he had ever seen.

From their hair to their feet they were gorgeous, so small and beautiful they Bill couldn't believe he took part in bringing them to life.

"You're our dad?" Your son mumbled out, stepping closer to Bill with wide eyes of curiosity as he admired his look.

Bill nodded softly as he couldn't find the words as the mini him stepped closer.

"You look like me." Your son mumbled, in the same trance as Bill was as you watched with bated breath

Your daughter however, cut to the chase.

"Why do you look like that?"

Bill laughed, snapping out of his trance with his smile now wide and like before when it first captured your heart.

The words of his daughter, and the way his son held his hand could only make his smile bigger. Wiping away the tears that made his eyes glistened he chuckled.

"You look like me, schön." Bill stated, your daughter's face scrunched up as she turned to her brother, looking over her now uncles who gave you guys space now.

"If we do then how come we've never met you?" Your daughter innocently asked, your son nodding along as he always went along with his sister.

You almost frowned as Bill's eyes and smile dampened for a moment, about to step in and blame yourself before Bill glanced at you.

He sighed, giving a small smile to you as he tapped your thigh before turning to your guys' children.

"It's my fault. I haven't talked to mom in a while and…I didn't know you guys were here." Bill frowned as he explained, and even so did Tom, Gustav and Georg.

The guys all stood watching from afar, not wanting to interrupt but can't help but admire their niece and nephew.

"Why not?" Your son mumbled out, tilting his head up at his father as Bill once again sighed, holding your son's hand as he sat him down beside him on the trunk.

"Because I'm an idiot. I didn't know mom was trying to get to me. A lot of stuff happened." Bill frowned, running a hand through your son's hair.

"Is that gonna happen again? Are you gonna stay?" Your daughter asked, frowning as almost tears were in her eyes out of fear of losing her father after barely knowing him.

"No! No, it won't happen again. I'm not leaving you," Bill said quickly, grabbing your daughter's hand as she stood close.

It took a moment before your daughter nodded hesitantly, taking a second before she climbed up on Bill's legs, looking up at him while close to his chest.

"Good, because mamas lonely."

"What?! You little-" you said, laughing as you went in to tickle her stomach. Your daughter burst into giggles as you did, hiding into Bill's arms as she covered herself in his jacket.

"It's true, mama." Your son mumbled, smiling and laughing softly as he stood behind Bill's back, peeking out from his shoulder with an arm around his dad's neck.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your kids, but watched softly as Bill laughed along with his kids, happily wrapping his arms around them.

"Does this mean we're uncles now?!"

You guys looked up to see Tom, hands on his hips with Gustav and Georg recruited beside him.

"Tom-" Bill sighed, wanting space for a moment as his twin shushed him.

"I just met mini yous and that's weird enough we wanna at least know them better." Georg explained, hands in his pockets as your kids turned to you excitedly.

"So we do have uncles?" Your son asked, eyes beaming with hope as your daughter nodded along, looking for your answer.

"I guess so." You chuckled softly at your son, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he smiled, scrunching up his face before he hid his face in Bill's neck.

Your daughter did as well before she noticed Bill's tattoos, eyes beaming as she held his fingers and tracing every line while asking questions after question.

You then watched Bill smile as he held the hands of his kids as your daughter prodded his hair and your son went on about animals he learned about in school, you couldn't help but think things would be alright.

But something was different.

You couldn't help but notice the smile he gave you. It was one like the night you guys first met, beaming and happy like he just discovered something he would cherish forever.

Maybe because Bill's eyes held more love in them than ever before.

------------------------------------------------

@billybabeskaulitz @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @spectr3inl0ve @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader

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xxemiexx · 10 months

Text

Do It Again

Request

Around 2500 words

Dark theme, birth denial, clothing birth

I took deep breaths as I slid the dildo inside of me, the soft vibrations taking my mind off the contractions. Hopefully this would help me get through my last shift.

I put on 2 pairs of tight panties over the top to ensure the dildo stayed in place. This baby was not being born today I needed that bonus from work too badly.

The bus station came into my sight but the bus was already there

"Shit! Please wait!" I shouted and started a slow jog up to it but the driver shut the door.

"Please!" I waved and shouted but the bus drove off.

A contraction rushed through my stomach and I quickly ducked into an ally as I doubled over, I pulled my phone out and turned the vibrator up needing something to ease the pain.

I started to walk very quickly so I wouldn't be late.

I got to work 5 minutes before my shift started. I rushed to put my coat and bag in my locker, the movement of the stairs moving the dildo inside of me making my moan quietly to myself.

Just 7 hours and I could go home and give birth. I clocked in and went to the shop floor.

The store manager, John, came up to me after a while of stacking shelves.

"Could you get something from the top shelf for me sweetheart?" He smirked as he asked looking me up and down.

I nodded and walked towards the isle, grabbing a step stool on the way. I carefully made my way up and reached towards the back of the top shelf, the stretching movement allowing the baby to drop down. I groaned a little, focusing on the task.

He chuckled to himself as I felt his hand press against my vagina, I gasped as the dildo went deeper, pushing through my dilating cervix.

"Oh my god!" I said breathlessly. I looked around for help but the isle was empty. He pushed the dildo so far into my cervix I felt the vibrations in my stomach. I doubled over holding the shelves to keep me up.

"I could fuck that baby out of you sweetie, I'll take good care of you. You better keep quiet if you want the bonus." He whispered into my ear as he reached inside my trousers pushing deeper through the panties.

The stretch of the dildo in my cervix made my eyes water.

"Come with me baby." He pulled me down from the stool. I was in a haze of shock, pleasure and pain as he lead me to the entrance of the store.

He told the front of store staff he was taking me to the hospital as I was in labour. They nodded and wished me luck before going back to their work.

He led me out to his car, it was small and only had two doors, he opened the passenger door and pulled the seat forward telling me to get in the back.

"I won't be able to fit in there." I panted, there was no room in the back, both front seats pushed back as much as they could be.

"Get in, it's the back seats or the trunk." He grabbed my arm and pushed me forward.

I took my time to climb through the small gap, gasping when I felt the baby flail around in my stomach when the manager slapped my ass, the dildo digging in hard.

"Good girl." He said when I was finally in. He slammed the door.

I tried to move my legs so I could spread them, there was an ache deep inside me, needing relief from the pressure I kept trying but I was so restricted from my tight pants and the lack of space back here.

John finally got in and started his car.

"Please take me to the hospital." I panted rubbing my stomach as a contraction hit me.

"We're going sweetheart don't you worry!" He chuckled and set off. "Put your seatbelt on." He warned, looking at me through the rear view.

I reached and pulled it around me, it was incredibly tight around my stomach. He seemed pleased with this and got on the highway.

The vibrations inside me were steadily increasing, my hips bucking from the seat searching for friction. John chuckled and I saw my phone in his hand, he was controlling it. He turned it up full and threw it in the seat next to him.

My hips were bucking faster, moving the dildo deeper inside of me, I put my hand inside my pants, reaching for it to pump it in and out of me but I could no longer feel it it was so deep inside me.

I whimpered and rubbed my clit, searching for any kind of release.

All of a sudden John slammed his breaks on, the seatbelt tightening around my stomach so hard the air left my lungs.

I felt something trickling out of me, wetting the seat underneath me.

"No..." I pulled my hand out and it was wet.

"Ah your water! Don't worry, when we get where we're going you won't need it." He said and turned into his drive.

He pulled me out the car, and into his house.

"Let's look at what's going on down here sweetie." He pushed me to lay on his couch and pulled my jeans off and removed my pants, he inserted the length of his thumb inside of me behind the dildo, forcing it through my cervix once again. I felt the baby move in my stomach.

He slid the dildo out after a few extra rough pumps. There was a pop of amniotic fluid on the exit.

I took the opportunity to push, John grabbed my legs behind my knees and pushed them up to my stomach, seemingly aiding my pushing.

"That's it, push hard!" He pushed down on my stomach forcing the head through my cervix with such force my head was spinning.

He did the same again and the head moved rapidly through my birth canal.

A contraction took over and forced me to bear down, the head coming to my opening. John chuckled and pushed my legs apart further as he pushed on my stomach.

I screamed at the speed all this was happening, pressure hitting me from all directions.

Fluid spurted out of me around the stretch of the head and there was a sudden and forceful pop as the head shot out.

"That's it!" He gave a forceful shove to my stomach and pushed my knees so they were by my shoulders.

"Agghhh!! No! Please stop!" I begged him reaching down to touch the baby he was forcing out of me.

The shoulders pop out next and the baby arms come out next, leaving it half out of me.

John let's go of my legs and sighs.

"Silly me! I forgot I had some stuff to do today!" He chuckled to himself. "I'm so forgetful." He said has he pushed the baby's arms back inside of me.

"No John please!" I cried as he pushed the shoulders and head back inside me, he does this until the baby is forced back into my womb.

"Doesn't that just feel better!" He smiled, "It's a shame your water broke, it would be safer in there with some protection." He stood there thinking to himself for a second.

The urge to push slowly creeping up on me.

He left the room for a few seconds, reaching something in the kitchen.

I didn't have the energy to get up and move, I wanted to run away so badly.

He returned with a funnel with a long tube and a 2 litre bottle of water.

"I'm just going to make it like your water never broke!" He smiled, saying it like it was simple.

He grabbed my legs and walked behind the sofa with them making me fall back and hit my head on the floor.

"Gotta have gravity keep the water in!" He chuckled and spread my legs, I put my hands on the floor to support my head.

"Please John! Don't do this I need to push!" I beg as he slid the tube inside me with his fingers.

He held the funnel up and poured the cold water in.

I gasped and tried to wriggle away but he was holding my legs too tightly.

"Yeah, this is a cold one isn't it! I only had water in the fridge!" He laughed and emptied the entire 2 litres into my womb. The stretch felt unbearable but not as bad as the cold feeling.

He finally put the funnel down and pushed something big inside me.

"Ow no!" I gasped as I felt some liquid spill out of me because of how much he had poured in.

His mouth connected with my clit before I could process anything else.

I moaned and arched my back best I could with the full feeling.

He licked and nibbled on my clit, a hand reaching round to my breast. He rubbed my nipple through the fabric.

"John!" I moaned and cried out as I came, clamping down on whatever he had pushed inside me.

He quickly shut my legs and forced some very tight underwear up before wriggling my jeans back on me.

"There you go! It's like it never happened!" He pulled me up to standing.

The weight of all the water in my stomach nearly pulled me over. I rubbed my hands over it.

"It's nearly doubled in size." John commented, "if you're a good girl and do what I say I'll drink from you, you're so full of milk." He reached to grab my breasts.

A groan left my mouth as the baby flailed around in my stomach, my nipples aching for some stimulation.

"Please, I need to push, the water is too much!" I cried.

"We're going to do some errands, the vibrations will get more intense whenever I want them to." He opened the app on his phone and hit the max setting making me gasp as I got close to climaxing around the dildo.

"John!" I moaned, I rubbed my clit over the tight jeans and moaned as the orgasm hit me, my legs shook with the pleasure.

"See, I'll make you feel good if you're a good girl." John purred in my ear.

He turned the vibrations down and pulled me toward the stairs.

“Let’s get you a new top, this ones covered in milk.” He grabbed my breasts and squeezed, that alone let a fresh flood of milk out.

He pulled my top over my head and threw it on the couch, he then reached round to unhook my bra leaving my top half fully exposed.

His fingers flicked over my nipples, the sensation brought on another contraction instantly.

“Owwwwww-! John please!” I tried to squat down but the weight of my stomach would allow it.

“Let’s go upstairs.” He stood behind me and pushed me slowly towards them, it took my a deep breath to lift my leg and get on the first step.

“This can’t take all day!” John reminded me. By the fourth step a contraction took over me and I was pushing, John tutted and pulled my body down into a squat.

The pressure made my body ache. I crawled up the rest of the stairs and finally made it to his room.

He gave me a shirt but before I could slip it on, he latched onto my nipple, sucking and drinking from me.

I moaned and gripped his hair.

I gasped as I felt a little dribble of cold water run down my thigh. I must be dilating around the dildo.

He covered me with the T-shirt and made me face the stairs again. More cold water ran down my thighs as I had to stop to push. We got outside eventually and he opened the trunk of his car.

“Do you need help getting in?” I moved to get in, it was a tight fit.

“If that baby’s out by the time I open the trunk I’ll force it back inside of you and you won’t give birth for a month!” He threatened and slammed the boot shut.

The force of the slam hit the top of my stomach, the pressure knocking the air out of me.

My legs were left open, in a birthing position. It made the vibrations feel so much more intense when he turned them up full!

I moaned as more water escaped.

We were driving for what felt like an hour. He finally pulled over and I heard him on the phone, his voice faded and 30 minutes later I was struggling to hold on.

I undid my pants and wiggled them down, only able to get them to my hips, my thighs spread too wide to go any lower.

I reached in the panties and pulled the dildo hard, it hit my panties and slid right back in.

“Fuck!!” That felt so good. I did it a few more times until I came around it.

I then pushed my pants to the side and with a strong push, the dildo came out of me, along with floods and floods of water!

The baby’s head shot down so quick it blocked most of the water from coming out.

“Oh god!” I moaned as the head was at my opening ready to crown.

I felt the head pushed down lower as a contraction hit through my stomach

I gripped the back of my thighs and pulled up towards my stomach as I pushed hard.

A scream left my throat as the head reached a full crown in my underwear. I looked around for something to cut the pants with, I can’t pull them any lower.

I find an old pair of scissors and start to cut down from the zipper, I just get to the front when I need to push again.

“Fuck!” I pull my legs up as much as I could and pushed, the head inching out slowly.

I quickly cut the rest of the pants and felt the baby’s head, half out of me and I push, birthing the head into my hands.

A gush of water escaped around the head.

I was mid push when the trunk opened and John took in what was happening.

He chuckled as I begged for him to leave me alone.

“I’m gonna let you give birth, then I’m going to push it back in, so you can do it again.” He pulled me out the trunk roughly and dragged me into the field we were parked in.

The baby dropping lower inside me with each step.

“She’s going to fall onto the floor!” I screamed as the urge to push took over.

John pushed me to the floor I landed on my stomach, the force alongside the pushing forced my baby out of me, the water gushed from me.

The crying made a sigh of relief leave me.

John picked the baby up and started pushing its feet back inside me.

“I’ll leave its head out. Now do it again.” He chuckled.

#birth kink #giving birth #birth denial #pushingbabybackin #water breaking #birth story #clothing birth #inconvenient birth #refill #dark theme #force labour #crowning

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promptful · 1 year

Text

Literally Sleeping Together Prompts

it's cute, lol.

WARNINGS: Suggestive. Nightmares. Parents fighting.

1) We’re sleeping over at a friend’s house, but both the bed and the couch are taken. We end up on the floor in a cocoon of blankets. And, I don’t know how we got here, but I woke up with your chest pressed to my back.

2) Preferring to sleep with the other person even though there’s another bed open.

3) After a “there’s only one bed” kind of event, I slept next to you. But now, my bed seems so empty, and yours seems so comfortable.

4) I’m damn freezing, and I know you run warm. You wouldn’t mind if I…

5) One character falling asleep watching the other’s chest rise and fall—basking in the vulnerability of it all.

6) We’re only halfway through our road trip, and there’s no hotel for miles. Thankfully, the trunk is wide open, and I have a few blankets.

7) This marriage has been nothing but a fake since the start. But we’re staying over at your parent’s home, and they’re expecting us to act like we’re in love… which side of the bed are you, regretfully, taking?

8) I fell asleep on the couch because I’m sick, and it’s the only way I’ve been able to fall asleep. I woke to you sleeping on the floor next to me.

9) Nightmares have been coming and going for me all night, but you offer to watch over me and “keep them away.” I know you’re not going to make it five minutes, but thank you.

10) As a bodyguard, you’ve been posted in my bedroom. Just… come sleep next to me. That way I can be safe, and you can be comfortable. Deal?

11) I may hate your guts, but I’m not going to just leave you here when you’re like that. Roll over.

12) Rain is pouring down the windows, and I have no will to go out. Neither do you, coincidentally. Curled around each other, we fall asleep to the television murmuring.

13) You’ve just come home from work, and are obviously worked up. In an attempt to distract you, I’m running my fingers down your chest, across your belt, down your sides, but you stop me. Embarrassed, you admit you just want to be held, maybe even to fall asleep in my arms. Never be embarrassed about that.

14) “What are we?” you asked, curled around me and buried underneath the sheets. “I don’t know,” I responded, listening to your heart. Do friends usually snuggle until the sun rises over the horizon?

15) The rings underneath your eyes are terrifying. Sit your ass down and go to sleep. And to make sure that you actually sleep, I’ll be right here beside you.

16) All the other hotel rooms are booked, and even though you are my ex, I would rather sleep next to you than a stranger, or even go back out into the snow. Move over, and let’s not talk about it.

17) You’re seriously allergic to the softener the cabin uses on their sheets. Thankfully, I bring my own—let me just move over.

18) I’ll kill your friends for showing you that horror movie with the knowledge that you scare easily, but for now, let me hold you and promise that the monsters underneath the bed don’t exist.

19) My neighbors are partying. Let me sleep over. Please.

20) It’s 2 a.m. but you call, asking if you can sleep over because your parents are fighting. Oh, darling…

#prompt list #writing prompt #writing prompts #writeblr #writing #story prompt #story ideas #cw: suggestive #cw: spicy #tw: nightmares #tw: suggestive #p.

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sturniololoco · 3 months

Note

can you write a little sis fanfic about them going skating together or one where they all go on a bike ride and y/n gets hurt

Skating Accident

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

“SLS/N, Hurry up!” Nick yells from downstairs.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m coming!” I yelled back, frantically searching my room for my beanie. It was the special one where my ponytail could come out of the top.

After climbing on the floor under my bed, I finally found it. I then sprinted downstairs, grabbing my skates from the closet by the front door. I then rushed out the front door and locked it.

Hoping into the back seat next to Nick, I chucked my skates in the trunk, slightly out of breath from my frantic search.

“It’s about damn time slow poke!” Matt says, reversing before I even put my seat belt on.

I roll my eyes at him then turn my head to Chris.

“Remember what you promised. You said you were gonna teach me to skate backwards.” I told my brother, reminding him of the deal we made on the couch last night.

“I will I promise!” He said, holding up his pinky finger.

I interlocked my finger with his, pinky swearing.

The rink was empty when we walked inside. Nick paid while Matt, Chris, and I began to walk to the edge of the rink to put our skates on.

Matt threw their sticks down and quickly laced up his skates, hoping in the ice and skating around, stick in hand, puck on the floor.

I was having a bit of trouble however.

My skate laces were all jacked up and I was struggling to get them untied.

Chris must have noticed because he walked over and kneeled in front of me.

“C’mere kiddo.” He said, beginning to to work on my skate.

I nervously bit my nails while he worked. I’ve never been as good as a skater as my brothers, and for some odd reason, I was scared of embarrassing myself.

“There you go kid.” He said, Patting my leg, then standing up. He threw his own skates on, then grabbed my hand and helped me out onto the ice.

“Hey SLS/N!? You need a little kid walker?!” Matt yelled, he and Nick giggling at my unbalanced approach onto the ice.

I flicked up off, nearly falling in the process, which only made them laugh even harder.

Chris grabbed my hands and steadied me. I leaned into him as he started to skate backwards, pulling me with him.

- I was fine skating forwards, but backwards was a whole different story.

We went around the rink a couple of times, just skating and talking. Matt and Nick would join us in the occasional loop.

But then Chris turned me around and started pulling me backwards.

“CHRIS-“ I began to say, but he quickly cut me off with reassurance.

“You’re fine sis, I’m right here if you fall.” He said, still guiding me backwards.

I tried to take deep breaths as he began teaching me. He showed me how my skates were supposed to go in and out, kinda like noodles.

Once I got the hang of it, Matt, Nick, and Chris hooped and hollered, hyping me up. I felt my face light up with glee as I began to feel more and more confident.

But then Chris let go of my waist.

Panic immediately flooded me, as I couldn’t stop myself. Completely forgot everything Chris had taught me and made my legs go stiff.

Just as I feel my self start to slip and the ground got closer, strong arms caught me around the waist.

“I told you I’m right here.” Chris said, smiling down at me.

I let out a sigh of relief, no longer scared of hitting the ground.

Matt skated over to me and grabbed my hand, helping me get back in my feet. The both held my hands as we went back to skating around the rink.

“Who wants to race?!” Matt yelled excitedly. Chris and I lined up next to him, as Nick insisted that he should be the ref.

Again, I was fine with skating forward, it’s the backwards part that gets me.

As Nick blew the imaginary whistle, we took off, Matt easily blowing past Chris and I.

It was a tie for second as Chris and I touched the wall, already yelling about who one.

“Just rematch for second time place!” Nick yelled, interrupting our banter.

Chris and I lined up again, then bolted at the sound of Nicks fake whistle.

I easily got ahead this time, glancing back as I left Chris in the dust.

But when I turned around, I found myself heading face first into the ice. I flung my hands out to catch me, lading in my wrist and feeling a sharp pop and then a stabbing sensation in my wrist.

“Oh FUCK!” I cried out, rolling in to my side, clutching my arm in agony. The tears were falling from my eyes as my brother skated over to me.

“Holy shit- that’s a broken wrist. We need to go.” Matt said, as he was the first one to my side.

He scooped up my shaking, sobbing body and skated as fast as he could off the ice, Nick and Chris close behind.

Chris carried me into the ER due to my lack of shoes, seeing that it would be faster if he just scooped me up and ran rather then take the time to put my shoes on.

My wrist hurt so fucking had, I could barely think strait. Tears were still racking my body as Nick checked me in at the front desk.

We got lucky, the wait was only 10 minutes. But for every second of the time, I was sobbing into Chris’s chest.

“He rubbed up and down my arm, whispering soft reassurances into my ears.

After an overly long ER visit and a hard cast later, we were finally heading home.

I was laying down in the back, my head resting on Nick’s lap as he gently played with my hair.

I sighed in content as the pain slowly drifted away as I fell asleep.

I was thinking ab doing a pt 2 for this, yeah? Like they take care of her. What do yall think?

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo sister x reader #sturniolo sister

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monstersandmaw · 9 months

Text

Laces for a Lady - 18th century poly shifter romance (Part one, sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Well folks, here it is. You said you were interested, so I hope it meets expectations! Here's part one for you, of a multi part story. If you want to kno wmore about it, you can find some more info here, as well as a little 'mood board'.

Content: sfw, the daughter of a country gentleman from Sussex relocates to a sleepy fishing village in Cornwall in order to become the paid companion of a young widow, and meets some of the locals on her arrival. Wordcount: 3972

Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark - Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a lady; letters for a spy, Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by! ~ from ‘A Smugglers’ Song’, Rudyard Kipling (1906)

In the cool, lavender light of a late spring dawn, a gaff-rigged cutter drew into the sheltering arms of a small bay at high tide, and quietly dropped anchor. As if the soft splash had awoken him, a cockerel spluttered to life in a farmyard somewhere inland, but most of the villagers were already up and awake and steering their small, secret fleet of boats out from the golden crescent of sand beneath the cliffs to meet the waiting ship fresh from Roscoff.

Beneath the waves, where churning kelp moored itself in unyielding handfuls to the ancient granite of the sea floor, a long, serpentine shadow snaked between the stalks, and the currents of the coastline subtly shifted. Any revenue men trying to sail along the coast from Fowey to catch the smugglers would have found the wind and tide set dead against them, and in the subtle wake that wafted from the mottled, eel-like tail as it passed unseen, the waters of the secluded inlet calmed beneath the keels of the scurrying fishing boats. The drag of the oars through the waves lessened, and muscles already tired from heaving and hefting goods up the cliff moved a fraction easier for the unexpected boon.

Between them over the next hour, the gathered men and women shifted their haul of half anker barrels and dozens of crates and boxes of goods ashore. The small kegs of rich, French cognac would fetch a pretty price all across Cornwall, and along with the liquor came smaller luxuries like lace and silk, and bundles of tobacco and spiced tea, all meticulously wrapped in oil cloth to keep the sea and the salt and the water out.

And when the speedy, slender ship was riding noticeably higher in the water, the locals simply melted away into the countryside like so many mice from a late summer granary before the excise men even knew the ship from Guernsey had visited the cove at all.

Fifteen miles away, as the sun breached the horizon and cast its first rays of warmth along bellies of fleecy clouds and the flanks of blossoming hedgerows below, a stagecoach lurched and rumbled westwards along potholed roads, and a young woman stared out of the grimy window as the horses carried her into a new chapter of her life.

After leapfrogging some two hundred miles or so along the staging stations that dotted the South Coast, with nothing but a small trunk of her belongings and a thrice-read, dog-eared novel for company, Eleanor Bywater was more than ready to see the back of that infernal stagecoach. Had it not been for the small but inconveniently bulky travelling case sitting at her feet, she might have hired a horse and ridden from the last staging inn at Plymouth to reach the secluded fishing village of Polgarrack, but given that the trunk held all her worldly belongings, she had not been quite desperate enough to escape the discomfort of hard seats and poor suspension to abandon it.

Bouncing along in the nearly-empty stagecoach, she studiously tried to ignore the older woman sitting opposite her. She’d stared intently at Nel since they'd left Plymouth behind that morning, and her scrutiny had begun to make that last twenty mile stretch feel much, much longer.

Finally, after jouncing over a pothole deep enough to start prospecting for copper ore at the bottom, Nel gasped and then raised her eyes to meet the woman’s openly curious stare. She found sympathy for her own discomfort, and a small degree of kindly amusement too.

“Where are you headed, miss?” the stranger asked after Nel raised the hint of an eyebrow at her as the silence stretched.

“Polgarrack.”

At that, the woman’s grey eyes narrowed in confusion. “Now what takes a young miss like you to an old fishing village like Polgarrack?”

She looked to be in her fifties, though a life beside the harsh sea had weathered her features somewhat, and her wiry grey hair was covered by a simple linen cap. Her dress was dark and plain, though there was a hint of tired lace around the neck and cuffs. Her hands had the tough, reddened look of someone who scrubbed pots and salted fish, while Nel’s own hands were smooth and soft, if a little ink stained from sending a letter to her friend before leaving the inn that morning.

Nel laughed quietly and shrugged. “There’s no mystery to it,” she said. “I am to be employed as a companion to the widowed Lady Penrose at Heath Top House. I am expected there this afternoon.”

Given that only ladies of relatively high social standing themselves tended to become a ‘lady’s companion’, the older woman made a hasty re-evaluation of her fellow traveller, and her already ruddy cheeks flushed a darker shade as she cleared her throat and looked away.

“Begging your pardon, miss,” she said. “We don’t get many new faces in Polgarrack, is all. I didn’t mean to pry or cause offence with my questions.”

“No harm in a little curiosity,” Nel said, trying to put the stranger at ease to avoid any further awkwardness between them on the remainder of their journey. “I take it you’re from Polgarrack yourself then?”

“Oh, born and raised, miss,” she chortled. She eyed the forest green redingote Nel wore, with its rather masculine high collar, wide lapels and small, gold pocket watch dangling on a chain, and the contrasting sage green skirts beneath, and no doubt made one or two judgements of her own about the young lady. “And yourself? You don’t sound as though you’re from these parts at all, if I may be so bold.”

Nel smiled. “I’ve come from Sussex.”

The woman’s watery, grey-blue eyes widened almost comically and she gasped. “’at's a bloody long way, miss! And all on your own?” She shook her head but remembered herself and mumbled, “Begging your pardon.”

“You’re right,” Nel sighed, letting her gaze slide to the window to watch the countryside roll past in a blur of salt-bleached grass and vibrant yellow gorse flowers. “It is a bloody long way.” And her spine and backside felt every lump and bump and lurch of the stagecoaches from Sussex to Cornwall. With a warmer smile, she turned back to the woman. “My name is Eleanor, but most people call me Nel.”

“Agatha,” she replied with a grandmotherly smile of her own for the young woman. “But everyone calls me Aggie. My husband, Martin, is the village carter and smith, and we’ve got four boys, all of them either fishermen or miners. They all married too, so I’ve got nine grandchildren, if you can believe it!”

Nel offered Aggie her congratulations and another little smile, and then ventured to ask, “Will you tell me a bit about the place? I should like to know more about it, since it is to be my home for the foreseeable future.”

Aggie brightened even more and shuffled her plain, dark skirts, giving a wince and a grunt as the coach lurched over a pothole and the driver cursed audibly above them. Settled, if not entirely comfortable, she began.

“Well, see now. Folks has been fishing these waters for time out of mind. Pilchards is our mainstay, o’course, but the folks over St. Austell way mine clay, and obviously there’s copper and tin mines all over in the north of Cornwall. Mining here is as old as fishing, but it’s starting to dry up here and there now, o’course.”

She barely paused to draw breath before barrelling on, and Nel sat and listened while the older woman talked.

“Now, your Lady Penrose married into the Penrose family — see, she’s from Bath herself originally, though I can’t rightly remember what her family name was, but…” Nel let Agatha's potted history of the fishing and mining community wash over her, paying just enough attention to make polite sounds at the right pauses, but the discomfort of the journey and a decided lack of sleep was beginning to wear her attention span down to a single, fraying thread.

After two hours in the swaying, rolling coach, she felt woozy and weak-stomached, but with Aggie’s near-constant chatter, she at least had a better understanding of the politics of the little village than she’d ever have gained in six months on her own. She’d also learned why Aggie had been in Plymouth, since most folks never had any reason to travel further than the bounds of their own parish. Agatha’s sister’s husband had apparently been killed in the American Revolutionary War some ten years earlier, and since the widow’s health wasn’t the best these days, Aggie made the trip along the coast when she could to see her and take care of her.

Nel’s ticket took her as far as Whitcross, a desolate intersection of paler roads on a clifftop overlooking the tightly-nestled fishing port below, and away across the heather and tufted grass of the heath, she could just see an old manor house in the distance, flanked by tall copper beeches and ash trees. It looked slightly further away than she had anticipated, and she glanced apprehensively down at the travelling trunk at her feet.

Still, she was aching for fresh air and to be free of the sickening motion of the carriage, so she took the driver’s hand and allowed him to guide her safely down onto the hard-packed surface of the road before he lifted her case down for her as well.

From inside, Aggie peered out and scowled disapprovingly. “Now just you wait a moment,” she barked at the driver, who cocked an eyebrow but did pause. “Did they not send someone for you, dearie?” she asked Nel, still leaning out of the doorway and peering about like a disgruntled badger, and using the endearment freely. Apparently, two hours of talking non-stop at Nel had removed any pretence of formality or sense of social distance. Nel might as well have been adopted into Aggie Carter’s family as a niece by that point, and she couldn’t help but smile at the warmth it conjured in her chest.

“I… I never thought that far through,” she admitted, with her hand atop her bonnet as the wind gusted up from the sea below, soaring delightedly over the edge of the cliff and racing on inland as if to continue the momentum of the great rolling breakers that foamed and thundered against the shore. The coachman glanced at his pocket watch and groused something about a schedule that was almost immediately lost to the next inward gust.

“No, no, dearie,” the old woman scoffed. “No, you must come into the village. It’s far too far to go all by yourself, and with that case as well. Here, let me —”

“I can manage the case, I assure you,” Nel said with a gentle smile as Aggie half-toppled, half-leaned out of the coach to pick up the case. “How far is it to the house?”

“Two miles up that hill yonder,” Agatha said, pointing with one gnarled and arthritic finger towards the house on the rise to the north. “Come to the Lantern, and we’ll have one of the lads take you up once you’ve caught your breath.” The Lantern, as Nel now knew thanks to Aggie’s detailed prattling, was the inn at the centre of the village, right on the water near the harbour.

She had been about to protest, but with a sigh, she simply nodded. The constant journeying and jolting had worn her down more than she cared to admit, and while she wasn’t the kind of wallflower she’d met any number of times in London during the Season, a life led mostly indoors with few opportunities for physical activity had not prepared her for a two mile walk in heavy, too-fine clothes, carrying an unwieldy case in gusty conditions. Her family had been invited a number of times to Goodwood House to walk the large park there, and she had frequently ridden a rather spirited mare through the parkland of Lavington Hall with her dear friend William, so she was not entirely unused to the great outdoors, but she did have to admit that her experiences had been rather more curated and sanitised than the wild expanse of heathland visible on all sides of the stagecoach from Whitcross.

“You’re kind, Agatha,” she said, and let the woman heft her case into the otherwise empty coach.

The thing about a tiny village was that an outsider stood out a mile, and a young lady in her mid twenties and dressed in impractical, rich green clothes, stood out like a beacon in a dark night. Everyone turned to watch her as she disembarked from the coach. At home, she had barely garnered a look from anyone. Being the centre of everyone’s curiosity there was novel and, in a word, horrifying.

She almost blurted aloud that one would think she was a revenue man come inspecting for smuggled goods, but she bit it back just in time. Cornwall’s so-called ‘free trade’ and smuggling rackets were absolutely none of her concern as an outsider, infamous though they may be, and it would do her no good to start sticking her nose where it did not belong.

The Lantern was a half-timbered, two-storey building that faced the walled harbour. Its painted sign was peeling and sun-bleached, and it squawked something dreadful as it swung back and forth in the squalling wind. Mullioned windows glinted and shimmered, though the small, diamond panes were caked with a haze of salt spray, and alongside the inn, a hand-cart rumbled down from a narrow side alley towards the harbour beyond, where fishing boats bobbed on their mooring lines at the lapping high tide.

Agatha pushed open the black-painted door but came to an abrupt halt as someone appeared to be leaving the inn at the exact same moment, and nearly barrelled into her and Nel.

“Oh, excuse me,” came a young man’s hoarse tenor, and he stepped aside within the inn’s small porch to allow the two women to enter before he left.

Nel noted briefly that he wore well-made but plain clothes, and carried a hefty looking cane in his left hand, upon which he leaned while he waited for them to pass. He was pale and thin, his undyed linen shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders, and his light brown hair was tied back at the nape of his neck into a horsetail. The moment he met her eye, he inhaled in surprise and almost immediately looked away, his large, dark brown eyes turning shy and uncertain. “M’lady,” he mumbled without looking up.

She didn’t have time to correct him and tell him she had no such title, because the moment she had stepped inside, he was off out into the day beyond, limping markedly on his right leg as he went.

Nel turned back to find Agatha waiting for her, watching. “That there was young Edmund Nancarrow,” she supplied as Nel caught up with her. “Local lad. Lots of Nancarrows in this area,” she chuckled. “Can’t move for tripping over a Nancarrow. He was a shy, skittish thing even before he went off to war in the Colonies and came back with a bad leg,” she added. “But he’s a sweetheart if ever I saw one. Tailor’s ’prentice he is now.”

At that, Nel just nodded. Something in her ached when she realised she probably wouldn’t have much to do with the folk from the village once she was ensconced up at Heath Top House, and she half wised she could. They already sounded far more interesting than the Lady Winnifred Penrose, with whom Nel had only exchanged a short flurry of letters before becoming formally engaged as her ‘companion’.

Still, an unmarried woman of Nel’s age and social standing was considered almost past her prime, and given that the few marriage proposals she had received had faded into the mists of her very early adulthood, she had had to find another respectable way to support herself. Hence, Heath Top House.

Aggie bustled her into the main room of the pub, and their arrival caused a flurry of activity that drew the eyes of a good few patrons.

Seated at the wooden bar inside, hunched over a pewter tankard, sat a tall, bulky man in his late-thirties or early forties, with long, thick, dark grey hair shot through with a shimmer of silver white. He had it tied back off his face in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and as he turned to regard Nel’s arrival, she met unusually deep green eyes surrounded by a web of crows’ feet lines in a tanned, weathered face. His scowl was dark and full of suspicion, but even the storm clouds in his expression couldn’t mask the fact that he was handsome, in a rugged, rough-hewn kind of way.

When she saw where Nel’s attention had snagged, Aggie let out a little gasp and snatched her by the upper arm to steer her towards an empty table in a bay window, about as far from the wooden bar where the man still sat and glared at them as it was possible to be.

“And that’s Locryn Trevethan,” Aggie hissed as she saw Nel settled into a seat. “Can’t say as I’ve seen him in here more than a handful of times this year though. He’s usually out on the water. Lives alone in an old stone cottage round the bay from here, up at Pilchard Sands. You’d probably best be giving him a wide berth, miss. Not that he should give you any trouble, mind,” she amended carefully, “But he’s not for the likes of you to go mingling with.”

Nel smiled at the protective tone in the older woman’s voice, and nodded once.

With her warning given, Aggie raised her voice and called over to the old man behind the bar. “’ere, Tom! This young lady needs a ride up to Heath Top. You think you can arrange that for her?”

The stoop-shouldered, white-haired man nodded and knuckled his forehead at Nel across the space. “Not the finest, but we got a cart.”

“If you have a horse, I could ride,” she said, trying to be helpful.

“Ain’t got a saddle for a lady,” he said regretfully.

Memories of galloping through the leafy trees of Lavington Hall’s parkland with William flashed across her mind and she suppressed a smile. She certainly hadn’t ridden the grey mare side-saddle while keeping up with her childhood friend, and although it had been a year or so since she’d sat astride a horse instead of side-saddle, she thought she could manage well enough. “I know how to ride a man’s saddle,” she said, “But I do have a travel case I’d need to send someone back for.”

“I could get one of the lads to bring that up for you after,” said Tom, “But it’s almost as much effort to hitch up a cart as it is to tack up a horse for riding, ma’am.”

“Whatever is the least trouble for you will do fine,” she said, and the stoic, weather-beaten old man’s red cheeks darkened and he ducked his head.

While Tom left to sort out transportation to the house, Aggie flapped about getting some refreshments for Nel, leaving her to wait at the table alone.

In the wake of the hubbub and pother Agatha left behind her, Nel took a long, deep breath looked around to find Locryn Trevethan still staring across the room at her. Taken aback by his directness and the intensity of his glare, she tried to smile, but his expression remained thunderous beneath strong, dark brows, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed.

In a face turned to leather by the sun and sea-wind, wide cheekbones and a heavy brow framed his piercingly green eyes. Never mind that marked crow’s feet around his eyes that made him look like he would rather have been laughing; the contrast between the dark, hostile glower and the soft laughter lines unnerved her and made her feel off-balance, as though her stranger’s presence in their local pub had unknowingly raised the ire of a usually gentle man.

He had a short, neatly-trimmed, salt-and-pepper beard around full lips that were currently turned down at the corners and which bore a silver-pink scar across the middle. Despite the warm day, he wore a fisherman’s dense, woollen sweater, and when she risked another look back at him, she found him still frowning openly across the bar at her.

Nel didn’t relax until Aggie returned, at which point the man snapped abruptly out of his trance, slammed a coin down on the bar, and strode from the pub on long legs that were thick as tree trucks at the thigh. The door bounced back off the plasterwork in his wake and his boots rang on the flagstones outside.

“Not one to welcome strangers, I take it,” Nel muttered, and downed half of the cheap, watered-down wine that Agatha had set on the table for her.

“Oh don’t you pay him no mind, miss,” Aggie scoffed, settling herself down into the seat opposite her like a brooding hen and glaring at the pub door. “He don’t seem to like no one in Polgarrack save for sweet Ned Nancarrow, strangely enough. Then again, I ain’t met no one who’s taken a disliking to sweet Ned. Now, Tom will have the horse and cart ready for you in just a moment, but you just take your time and recover after your journey.”

Nel, who had felt ten times better the moment she’d taken her first proper lungful of sea air on stepping out of the swaying stagecoach, looked across the table into the older woman’s face and found a mother’s kindness and compassion in her wrinkled face, and something twisted in her gut. “You’re very kind,” she whispered, unable to muster anything more. “Thank you.”

She chuckled. “You know, and don’t you take this amiss, but you remind me of my niece a little, though she’s a little younger than you.”

Nel’s eyebrows twitched in wry amusement, and Agatha blushed at the impropriety of her words. Nel didn’t get the chance to reassure her because Tom shuffled back in and told her the cart was ready for her.

She laid a coin on the table for the wine and stood, following the innkeep out into the yard and clambering up with her case into the back of the cart. It was hardly a very dignified mode of transport for someone of her station, and when Tom said as much while they rumbled out of the inn’s yard, Nel just laughed and said she didn’t mind.

“Anything is better than that awful rolling stagecoach,” she beamed, and swung her legs back and forth like a child off the back of the cart bed while Tom clucked his tongue at the horse to hurry up.

As they trundled up the narrow, cobbled street from the harbour, they passed Edmund Nancarrow standing outside a tailor’s shop, talking with the beast of a man from the bar. Both men looked up and watched her pass like she was some kind of rare spectacle.

In a way, she supposed she was.

Still, she smiled at them despite her nerves, and Edmund knuckled a non-existent cap at her with a shy smile, while Locryn just glared.

She sighed and wondered what this next chapter in her life would bring.

___

Next chapter ->

Well, what did you think of it so far? I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it, as always!

I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like if you enjoyed it. Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

#selkie #bucca #polyamory #polyamorous romance #poly story #o #historical fantasy #shifter romance #poly shifter romance #18th century romance #shapeshifter romance #m/m/f

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tj-dragonblade · 4 days

Note

popping my head in to ask about Mer Hob 👀 from the WIP title ask game

Finally popping my head back up to answer, my apologies for the wait! Mer-Hob came out of server conversations about mer-Dreamling fish assignments and aquatic mating displays, but he kind of fizzled out with the scene I tried to write. Dusting him off for this, though, I think I can breathe the spark back into it. Take it past where I meant to before, so it will have a more satisfactory conclusion. I have scrapped the lackluster 'how did they meet' that was stalling me out and given them new backstory and now I'm unsure how exactly I want to structure this. Start where I've started and then jump back to the meeting, then bring them back to the present? Make the backstory a separate fic? Rearrange the whole thing chronologically, which would require a lot of rework and shortening of the current opening bit? IDK but I'll figure it out. In the meantime, here is a chunky chunk of drafting for their meet-cute (sfw but cut for length):

Dream is not surprised to find a waterline-level cave out on the rock formation in the bay, on the side not visible from shore. Nor is he overly surprised to find someone stretched out in the handsbreadth of water covering the floor with their eyes closed, as the morning light fills the first several feet of the cave brightly in a way that is conducive to sunbathing.

The fact that the sunbather has a bright orange tail with brilliant yellow fins and blue-black leopard-like spots is rather less expected, however, and Dream gasps his surprise.

The sound startles the man—the merman—surely not?—who sits bolt upright, eyes wide and panicking as he locks gazes with Dream not an arm's length away.

Dream's heart skips a beat. He's beautiful—

"Oh, fuck!" The merman—there is no other explanation, no mistaking the flurry of fins and scales as he moves—the merman twists and flops and dives past Dream, a less-than-graceful plunge off the rock and into the sea and then he is gone.

"Wait!" Dream cries, to the bright flick of yellow vanishing into the depths, but of course it is no use.

He could swim back to the boat, could don his diving gear and follow—but no. The merman is already gone, and will be more so by the time Dream could be equipped to give chase.

He swallows back his disappointment, his disbelief, and tells himself resolutely that he surely imagined the entire thing.

But he did not imagine it, he knows this; the knowledge lodges in his mind, burrows down into his consciousness and curls around his common sense, stokes his curiosity.

He saw a merman.

Merpeople do not exist.

But he saw one.

He returns the next day, hoping perhaps to repeat the discovery, but he is the only visitor to the cave in the hours that he spends there. When the tide has gone out and come back in, high enough once more to cover the floor of the cave, when he has spent all day waiting with nothing to show for it, he admits defeat and swims back to his boat.

He returns again, and again, later each day with the drift of the tide, diving to explore beneath the surface when the cave remains empty. He finds nothing of note, nothing to hint at the existence of merfolk, nothing at all out of the ordinary; by day six, he is trying to convince himself to make peace with the likelihood that he will never find any trace of the merman he knows he had seen.

On day seven, the merman is back, sunbathing at the front of the cave again.

Only this time, he has human legs, is wearing swim trunks, is sitting further away from where Dream is treading water, stunned.

"…Hello," Dream manages.

"Hi," the man says, warmly polite. He is cross-legged with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them, one hand holding the other wrist; he is meant to look casual and relaxed, Dream is certain, but the tension and the nervousness coming off of him are palpable.

He is still beautiful.

"You're. I saw you here, before?" His thoughts are still trying to catch up; he hoists himself into the cave, doesn't move closer.

The man's shoulders drop a tiny fraction. "Yeah, yep! Startled me good, you did!" He chuckles lightly, a carefree and casual sound; the fingers of his dangling hand wriggle, a nervous and distracted sort of gesture that draws Dream's attention to the profusion of hair on his bare legs, and arms, and what Dream can see of his chest.

"You had a. A tail, last time," Dream says, somewhat awkwardly, tearing his gaze from the sprinkling of hair on the man's bare toes.

"Oh, that, yes!" The man grins, bright and disarming. "I'm a mermaid performer, with the, ah, the local carnival."

Dream is convinced this is a lie even as the logical part of his brain points out that this explanation makes far more sense than believing in merfolk. He knows what he saw, the flexing of muscle and the fanning of fins, the bending and twisting that did not match up to the way that human legs would move in that configuration. The merman speaks with casual confidence, but the tension in his frame and the nervous fidget of his clasped hand are easy to read.

"…No, I don't think you are," Dream says, and the man's bright smile dips before returning to full wattage.

"Calling me a liar, are you?" He laughs, a light and enchanting sound that Dream immediately wants to hear more of. "Merfolk, they don't actually exist, I'll have you know."

~ The wip tag has a tiiiny bit more of this one, also.

#TJs Writing #askmemes #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: merhob #merfolk

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

Sunday Morning | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: so this actually has a different ending that i wanted to do but i love this one. let me know if you want the more family ending (aka ghost is a girl dad and you cannot change my mind) :) afab!reader!!! (Alternate ending here!)

summary: you always met simon when he came come from deployment with a smile and a kiss, but this time was different.

warnings: worried simon, i love domestic simon so forgive me

The last time Ghost had arrived at the airport near his home, his wife was right there with a smile and a happy, “You’re home!”

But for the first time since he met her, the tarmac was empty and the drive home in his car was more than quiet - it was so painfully silent that it sucked out the excitement he had of coming home. His right hand was settled on the steering wheel, the warm streetlights passed quickly over the car - his eyes were heavy with sleep, but he needed to get home. He didn’t know how her not greeting him felt so alarming, it was 3 in the morning; she probably had work in the morning. It was hard for him to recognize that the immense excitement he had in finally kissing his wife after a long and difficult ten month deployment had now vaporized, and was replaced with intense words about her safety.

Ghost was always confident in his ability to perform his duty well - he was a perfect soldier, made for battle and to serve Her Majesty. But he was rarely confident in his ability to be a perfect husband - he was almost never home, almost never able to call his beautiful wife, but he was always certain in how much he loved her. The one who never complained about his career, was happy to see him even if they had fought the night before.

He was ten minutes from home now and he wished that his phone would begin to vibrate, her beautiful name appear on his screen and he would hear her voice again. It’s been months since he was able to even contact her, the guilt eating him alive but he had to get over it. He hasn’t heard her voice in months, haven’t been able to tell her more than that he loved her and that he’d be home soon. And by God, he felt like something was wrong.

The last ten minutes of his drive were silent. He had now turned off the radio playing some sort of jazz, his bare hands gripped the steering wheel up until his car pulled into the driveway of their home. It was a nice two story house with white shutters in a quiet suburb of Wyoming. The porch light was on, he could see the front room lamp on as well through the window. He put the car in park and his right hand pulled at the bottom of his balaclava. She knew why his mask was important, why it made him feel safe but she loved to see his face. He hadn’t taken this damn thing off for anything but a quick shower when he could, so he pulled it off. The lights of the car had turned off when he pulled the key from the ignition, opening the door and getting out. He closed his door quietly, opening the trunk and retrieving his dufflebag.

As soon as the trunk clicked shut, he felt Ghost begin to leave his body and Simon came to light. His boots were feather light against the sidewalk as he walked up the path, retrieving his keys from his pocket and looking for the one key he needed.

When Ghost pushed the front door open, he immediately smelled her perfume. It wasn’t overwhelming , no - it was subtle enough for him to know that she must have been awake recently. He quietly shut the door behind him, placing the dufflebag on the floor next to it and placing his balaclava on top of it. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the brand new gash on his face from a couple weeks ago - he almost knew she wouldn’t. He looked to the right into the front room, seeing the couch and coffee table have their usual decorations - the standing lamp having a warm glow in the room. He kneeled down and unlaced his boots, kicking them off quietly and setting them beside the door.

He headed forwards through the foyer towards the kitchen, where only the light above the island was on - showcasing what looked like a card, standing upwards on the island. It didn’t have anything except his name on the front, so he picked it up and opened it.

Welcome home, honey - if you’re reading this, that means I’m probably asleep upstairs. Wake me up - I have a surprise for you.

He was already walking up the staircase when he finished reading the card, excitement tingling through his skin. He skipped steps, was quieter than a mouse as he walked down the hallway. There was light coming from their bedroom, the door ajar. Ghost kept walking until his hand brushed the white door, pushing it in to enter the room. And there you sat, on your shared bed and you just simply existing made the man smile. She looked up from her lap, a wide smile on her face.

“Simon.”

“My love.” He answered, taking a step forward into the room. “You told me there was a surprise.”

The H/C human smiled wider as she then held up a beautiful ball of white fluff with a black nose and small, toy-like brown eyes. The puppy began to yap and wag its tail, then began to try and wiggle out of Y/N’s hands. She placed him down on the bed and the large puppy jumped onto the floor, scrambling to Ghost’s feet. The fluff ball sat at his feet, pawing at him.

Ghost would have gawked if he was surprised - but he kind of wasn’t. He looked at the puppy and then back up to her. “You got a dog?”

“You didn’t get me one so I got myself one.” You answered, throwing the duvet off of you before running to him, barreling into his chest. His arms were immediately around you, taking in how nice your hair smelled, how perfectly you fit against him. He kissed your head, holding you just a little tighter.

This is what he fought for - this right here. The one person who loved him unconditionally, no matter how long he goes without seeing you, you always run back into his arms. He would always fight for you, even if you didn’t know it.

“His name is Noodle.” Simon almost laughed but bit his tongue, smirking as you pulled away from his chest. You eyed him carefully before commenting, “Don’t laugh, it is a cute name for a dog.”

He shook his head before leaning forwards and kissing you, his dominant hand pushing the small of your back into him. He pulled away all too soon, leaving you to give him a disappointed glare. “You got a dog and named it Noodle.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you name him something better, like Reaper or Scythe? Something that shows power-“

You laughed a little. “I wasn’t going to name him Ghost Jr. That’d give him an ego.”

Simon barked out a laugh, kissing your forehead. “What about Phantom?”

You smiled wider than before, arms that sat around his torso squeezed him a little. He smirked. “Perfect.”

———

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 months

Text

Rarely Stunned – Gator Tillman

Gator's POV

I've known Y/N all my life. To be fair, just because I knew her doesn't mean I was friends with her. We were in the same class all through school, but I've never had a real conversation with her.

Y/N was known in town as having the most beautiful voice. She sang in the school choir and the church choir. They begged her to do a solo when she was only 13. After that, the whole town fell in love with her. Every family wanted their son to marry her and every boy our age wanted to be with her. I was the only one that people thought wasn't into her, but that was a gigantic load of bullshit.

Of course, I was into her. She was the only one in school who didn't treat me weirdly because of my dad. She was sweet to me. She once told me that she didn't want me to become like my father. She believed I could be better.

I sat in my dad's car in the grocery store parking lot, waiting for him to hurry up and buy the beer. I sucked on my vape, blowing the air out the window. He hated it when I made the car smell like my vape.

My breath got stuck in my throat causing me to chock in the smoke in my mouth when I saw Y/N walking out of the store. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes as she went to her car. She opened the trunk and started putting bags in. Suddenly, a bag broke making her sigh. Her frustration made me jump out of the truck. I jogged over and started helping her pick up the items that fell.

"Thanks, Gator," she sighed. "But I can pick this up."

"I don't mind," I shrugged. "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

I looked up and smiled when she laughed. "Gator Tillman, a gentleman," she chuckled. "That's not something you here often."

"I'm not all bad," I mumbled. I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw the way she looked at me.

"I know that," she said gently. We had an intense staring contest until my dad interrupted it.

"Hey! Gator, get your ass in the truck!"

"Sorry," I mumbled. I cleared my throat before looking up at her. "It was good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," she blushed. "Thanks for the help, Gator."

When I got in the car, I turned to see my dad smirking at me. "What?" I sighed.

"Are you trying to steal Y/N away from that prick, Donny?" My dad laughed.

"What?" I scoffed. "One of her bags broke. I was just helping her pick up her groceries. I wasn't trying. . . Wait, she's dating Donny? The fucking water boy?!"

"Not for long," my dad said in a sing-songy voice. "Got get her, tiger."

* * * * *

The rest of the night, I couldn't stop thinking about Y/N being with that dweepe Donny. He wasn't good enough to play on the football team but the coach was secretly sleeping with his mom so he made him the waterboy. Y/N didn't deserve that nerd. She deserved someone who could take care of her. It made me so angry I got drunk.

I woke up to an immediate hangover. I sat up and slowly got ready for my shift. I went about the day like it was any other. Responding to random calls and vaping in between. That was until I got a certain call.

"We got a 417 in progress," dispatch said.

"Got it," I answered. "Where?"

They listed off the address, but something felt strangely familiar. I ignored it and drove to the address. When we went to the door, it was opened.

"That can't be good," I mumbled. We went in, guns ready. We went in different directions and swept the place, but it was empty.

Until I walked into the living room.

My stomach lurched when I saw her. Y/N was on the floor of the living room, passed out next to a destroyed coffee table. I felt like everything froze as I watched the puddle of blood slowly grow. I lowered my gun, unable to move.

"Sir, there's no one here." My partner's voice dropped when he saw her. "Except her," he said slowly.

I finally snapped out of it. I put my gun back in my holster and ran to her. I collapsed next to her, not entirely sure what to do.

"Get a medic!" I yelled. "Now!"

I turned back to Y/N, my eyes scanning her body. I carefully reached forward and moved some hair out of her face. The second I touched her, I felt how cold she was.

"Where the hell is that medic?!"

My breath got caught in my throat when I heard her groan. "Y/N?" I dropped my voice. "It's me. It's Gator. Open your eyes for me, Y/N. Please."

When she still didn't do or say anything, I continued, "You're safe. I swear, Y/N, I will find whoever did this to you and I will keep you safe. I promise. Just, please, wake up."

I held my breath as I waited. Finally, Y/N's eyes weakly and slowly fluttered open.

"Gator?" She said my name so weakly it broke my heart.

"I'm here," I said quickly. "I'm right here."

"Gator," she repeated my name.

"Medics are on the way, Y/N. They're close. Just hang on a little longer. Please."

Y/N reached for me and I instantly grabbed her hand. "Don't leave me," she said weakly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * * * *

I sat in the waiting room, nervously bouncing my leg. I kept glancing towards the door, wishing a nurse would walk through it with news on Y/N. I was ready to storm over to the nurses' station, flash my badge, and demand for them to tell me what was going on with Y/N. The second someone came out, I approached them.

"How is she?"

"She's awake," the nurse said kindly. "Follow me."

I was right at her heels as she walked down the hall. When she got to the door, she stepped aside.

"Go on in," she said. She smiled before lowering her voice and adding, "All she has asked for is you."

My heart jumped into my throat as she winked at me and walked back to the nurses' station. I took a shaky breath as I gathered my courage to open the door. I slowly put my hand on the handle and walked in. My breath got caught in my throat when I saw her asleep on the bed.

Y/N was covered in bruises and dried blood. She had an oxygen tube, the one that went into her nose, and an IV in her arm. Watching her sleep, my anger built. I didn't know who did this, but I knew what I would do when I found them.

Seeing that she was sleeping, I started to leave her room.

"Gator?"

I froze when she weakly said my name. I spun around, instantly making eye contact with her. I quickly walked over to her and sat on the extra chair in her room.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Tired," she tried to smile. "And sore."

"Speaking of which," I hesitated, "can I ask you some questions about what happened?"

"I guess so," she shrugged. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when she gasped in pain as she readjusted.

"We don't have to do this right now," I said quickly. "You should get some rest."

"It's fine," she sighed. "Ask away."

"Okay," I started. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was. . . I didn't. . . I didn't get the beer he liked."

"Wait, what?"

"I could only find. . ."

"Donny beat you because you brought home the wrong beer?! That son of a bitch," I yelled. I stood up and started running out of the room.

"Wait!" Y/N yelled. I froze in the doorway and turned around. She had tears streaming down her face as she opened and closed her mouth. "Gator. . . Don't leave me. Please. He could come back. . . Please stay."

I instantly returned to my seat and grabbed her hand. "I won't leave until you feel safe," I whispered. "I promise."

She smiled weakly at me before falling back asleep. Just like I promised, I stayed by her side until my dad walked in.

"What the hell. . . Ohhh." He started to get angry but laughed when he saw whose hospital room I was in. I let go of her hand, stood up, and turned around.

"The officers told me you went to visit the victim you found today while responding to that 417," he smirked. "I thought you were batshit stupid. But now? Now I get it."

"Dad," I sighed.

"It's a good plan," he interrupted me. "You found her, brought her here. Any girl would fall for the guy who. . ."

"Donny's the one who hit her."

The look on my dad's face changed. "Her boyfriend did this?" He asked under his breath.

"Yeah," I sighed. "He got angry because she bought the wrong beer."

"Wow," my dad scoffed. "He's. . ."

"A fucking asshole," I finished for him. "I swear, I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna shove my gun so far down his neck that he'll. . ."

"Calm down, tiger," he laughed. "I'll have some officers go pick him up and take him to the station. Then we'll help Y/N get a restraining order against the dick. And, if you want, I'll have my friends make sure he leaves this town and never comes back."

"What am I supposed to do?"

My dad looked behind me before putting his hand on my shoulder. "Why don't you tell the girl you've had a crush on since you could walk that you'll never hurt her and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe?"

"But. . ." I stuttered.

"Go show her that she can bring whatever beer she wants to your place," he smirked.

"Dad. . ."

"Tell her that she can have a better life with you." He patted me on the shoulder before leaving.

"Gator?"

I spun around to see Y/N awake. "Hey, you," I smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said slowly as she looked at the hallway. "Was that your dad?"

"Yeah," I said clearing my throat. "He heard what happened and wanted to know what he could do to help you."

"Really?"

"Of course," I said, walking over and sitting next to her.

She looked down and nervously played with her hands. I knew what question she was avoiding asking me. To help her, I decided to answer the unansked question.

"He's sending some officers to arrest Donny," I explained. "We know some people who can help you get a restraining order."

"That's not going to work," she said, her voice dropping.

"What do you mean?" I asked, scooting the chair closer to her bed.

"I've tried." When she looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. "He knows people, Gator. People. . . people on the police force."

"Who?" I asked through my teeth. I cleared my throat when I realized how demanding that sounded. "I mean. . . I can make it stick. If not, we'll just get rid of him."

"Wait, what?" Y/N panicked.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly. I cleared my throat and lowered my voice. "Listen to me, Y/N. He is never going to hurt you again. I swear."

"How can you be so sure?" She whispered.

I ignored the butterflies in my stomach as I reached over and gently grabbed her hand.

"I will not let him hurt you," I said as seriously as I could. "If he wants to get to you, he'll have to go through me."

"Gator," she whispered. "Why are you. . . Why would you do that for me?"

"Because," I stuttered, "you're. . . and I. . . Well. . ."

"Gator," she gently cut me off.

"I like you," I forced out. I watched as her eyes widened.

"You what?" She asked, her voice soft.

"I like you," I sighed, knowing there was no turning back. "I know this is horrible timing, but I've had feelings for you for such a long time. Donny doesn't deserve you, Y/N. To be honest, I probably don't deserve you either. But I can try. I can take care of you. I can protect you. I can give you a good life. I can. . ."

Y/N grabbed my face and pulled me toward her, bringing my lips to hers. As soon as our lips touched, I started kissing her back. Without breaking the kiss, I sat next to her on the bed. I pulled her into my arms, not wanting to let her go.

When we broke the kiss, we were both out of breath. "I'm sorry, Y/N" I mumbled. "Donny broke some of your ribs. You need rest. Not some guy climbing on top of you."

"I wouldn't object to a certain guy climbing on top of me," she giggled as she played with my shirt. She looked up at me through her eyelashes, making my stomach do flips. "Gator?"

"Yes?" I asked quickly.

"You promise you can protect me from him?"

My stomach sank at her question. I pulled her into my chest, wrapped my arms around her, and relaxed us into the bed.

"I promise to protect you from Donny and anyone else who tries to take you from me."

#gator tillman #gator #gator x reader #fargo season 5 #fargo imagine #gator tillman imagine #joe keery #joe keery imagines

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trrsseea · 10 months

Text

Lesson for lesson

We agreed to meet at Charles' apartment. When I got there, the apartment was empty. I headed into the living room and walked past Charles' piano. I always loved listening to Charles playing, his focused expression and the smile that played on his face was breathtaking.

I turned on the TV and some show was on, but I wasn't paying attention to it. All I could think about was the piano. Finally, I couldn't help myself and went over to it.

I sat down on the stool by the piano, picked up some sheet music Charles had laid out beside it, and flipped to the beginning, where there were light melodies.

I put my fingers on the keys and tried the first notes. My fingers slid over the keys and the melody seemed disorganized and inharmonious. I tried a few more times, but the result was always the same.

I rubbed my face in frustration and saw movement to my left. I turned my head and saw Charles leaning against the door frame, watching me with a smile.

Wordlessly, he parted to me, sitting down on the piano stool next to me.

“Y/n, will you let me help you?” Charles asked with a kind smile.

I was a little surprised at first, but I nodded. There was something magical about how quickly he took on the role of teacher and his calm attitude.

Charles began to show me how to hold my hands properly, use my fingers and play a chord correctly.

____________________________________

After a few lessons, I began to understand the language of music and why he loves it so much. My movement improved and became smoother. The melody sounded clearer and more harmonious.

At each of our "lessons" Charles seemed happy that I was improving or it was the fact that he could share one of his passions with someone. Although I doubt, I had the musical talent he did.

I love music, and on several occasions Charles and I explored each other's music playlists together and even found common favourites. But the way Charles always relaxed when he sat down at the piano to play was amazing view.

I loved that look, watching and listening to him and several times I fell asleep on the couch while he played.

____________________________________

I got better and better over the next few months. One afternoon, when I arrived a little earlier than Charles, who was late from training, I decided to train.

Last week I found one of our favourite songs and practiced it in secret so I could surprise Charles.

My fingers carefully moved across the keyboard with the grace and delicacy I'd gained from practicing with Charles, filling the apartment with a lovely melody.

The melody penetrated to the core of my bones, and sometimes my hand slipped a little, but I didn't stop and continued to play.

____________________________________

Charles pov:

Today's practice was a bit long, the mechanics needed to make some more adjustments and wanted to know if everything was working as it should. I knew Y/n would be at the apartment waiting for me.

So as soon as I got out of the garage, I headed to the locker room. I took a quick shower packed my stuff and headed to the parking lot where my car was waiting for me.

I got in my Ferrari and pulled out onto the road towards the apartment. I parked in front of the apartment, grabbed my stuff from the trunk and almost ran as I couldn't wait.

I put my keys in the lock, turned it and the lock clicked. The first thing I noticed was the melody from the piano. I walked into the apartment, which was filled with a lovely melody. I carefully closed the door and put my things on the floor.

Quietly, I walked in the direction the melody was coming from. Y/n played carefully, but with a delicacy that she had lacked before. Her song was full of emotion, and at that moment I realized it was our favourite song. She must have practiced it in secret.

I stood in the doorway and listened to the melody, completely entranced by the moment. I was happy for her, for how much she had improved. Most of all, I appreciate her effort and dedication to the music. It was a beautiful moment and I didn't want to disturb it.

____________________________________

I led Charles to the kitchen where I prepared all the necessary ingredients.

I showed Charles all the ingredients and explained the process, which I printed out just in case so he could look at it as he worked.

Last week I was wondering what I could get Charles for his piano lessons, so I thought I could teach him to bake something. His passion is music and mine is baking.

I was scrolling through internet looking for a simple recipe and came across chocolate cake. So, the plan was clear, I'm going to teach him how to bake a cake.

After work, I went shopping for everything I needed to make it and I still had to buy a cake pan.

____________________________________

Charles pov:

I stood in the kitchen next to Y/n and listened to everything she said, I loved the look.

After the explanation, we got down to business. I was amazed at the precision and concentration with which Y/n worked.

I watched her every move and learned how to handle everything Y/n showed me, what temperature to heat the oven, how to grease the cake pan properly, and most importantly how to tell if the dough was properly made.

Y/n let me do all the work and checked that I was doing it right.

I was just mixing the last two ingredients together: “You have to be careful that everything is mixed and there are no lumps left."

I slowed down and made sure I was careful with every movement.

The dough was ready, I carefully poured it into the cake pan, and it placed it in the preheated oven and set the alarm.

I walked over to Y/n and pulled her close to me: "I was wondering how we could entertain ourselves in the meantime."

I kissed her and was about to continue, but Y/n broke the kiss and turned me towards the line.

“Who's going to clean this?" She pointed to the counter full of dishes.

“We can clean it up later." I leaned in for another kiss.

“This is part of the process." She smiled at me and started cleaning up.

After a few minutes, we were done and the cake was about to be ready. The cake was successful, just baked and smelling lovely.

We sat together at the table and shared the amazing sweet treat we had created together.

We both laughed while baking and I realized that we had managed to combine our two passions.

And so, we continued our piano and baking lessons together.

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 x you #charles leclerc one shot #ferrari f1 #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reade #cute #charles leclerc piano #piano

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storiesbyrhi · 10 months

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: What is expected of us? 2962 words.

Notes: This is dedicated to @jo-harrington, @somnambulic-thing, and @toomanyacorns, who all helped brainstorm and/or fact check this chapter.

1836

“You cannot ask how I know of this place,” Eddie said as he made a path for you to follow. It was well beyond the forest and the open plains you and he usually traversed.

“When you say such gloomy things, Eddie my love, you do know that I know what is left unsaid?” He threw you a look over his shoulder. “Well, excuse you, Mr Vampire. All brooding and mysterious,” you teased. You cleared your throat loudly and put on your best Eddie voice. “You cannot ask how I know of this place,” you impersonated.

Eddie stopped walking abruptly, letting you crash into his back. Instant speed and he’d hoisted you up over his shoulder. You laughed and hit your fists against his back.

“And you, my little witch? Were you not the one that said you would not play audience to my… murderous misadventures?”

“Murderous misadventures,” you repeated in your Eddie impersonation, giggling and letting your body fall limp as he carried you off to wherever he had planned.

Like he’d teleported, Eddie had you both to the destination in a second. Vampire speediness made your stomach turn with motion sickness. As he put your feet back on the ground, his hands lingered in case you were unsteady.

“Oh… Wow…” you marvelled, looking up at the great tree. “Surely she’s been here longer than you or I.”

Eddie knew you’d like the glorious tree. He knew you’d call it ‘she’ too. “See here,” he directed, showing you how the wide trunk was hollowed out in part. It was a space large enough for him to walk into.

You followed him. “It’s warm… Dry…”

“It was a place of respite. Somewhere to wait out storms,” Eddie told you.

You spun on the spot and looked at him, the darkness of the night even darker within the tree cave. “This is not a recent discovery for you?”

Eddie said nothing. Whoever had sought respite was instead met with violence.

“There’s something else.” Eddie crouched low to the ground. He reached into the darkness of the tree cave corner and pulled out a large suitcase. It looked as though he’d pulled it out of thin air, but you figured there were many holes and crevices within the tree appropriate for hiding things in.

You knelt next to Eddie and looked at the suitcase. It was old, the metal corners and lock rusted, and the fabric torn and discoloured.

“All their possessions were pillaged. The case was left for… fun,”

“Fun?” you asked.

“An ominous thing to find. An empty case in a hollowed-out tree.” Vampires hunted humans for sport. It was no surprise that mind games were part of the fun. “I don’t know when this was put here,” Eddie continued, picking up a wool blanket and shaking it off. He laid it on the soft dirt floor. “Perhaps it was us. Perhaps it was the humans… But these… These were me.”

With the blanket gone, a bundle of envelopes and paper was revealed. Eddie took them and stood. He kicked off his leather shoes and stepped onto the blanket, stretching out and looking at you.

As you sat next to him, crossing your legs, he let you take the paper. Eddie folded his arms under his head to make a pillow, then closed his eyes. It was as close to peace as he could get.

You were fluent in French and easily devoured the letters. It was a love story.

A Frenchmen had been all over Europe, you judged by the changing addresses and postmarks on the envelopes. A Marguerite du Bruyeres wrote to Guillaume du Bruyeres often. Though none of the letters were sent to America, Guillaume traveled with them.

She wrote of how colours were paler without him there. How pastry was stodgy and the city smelled less of blossoms and more of sickness. She wrote of how she missed him, oh, how she missed him.

Marguerite called Guillaume stupid but brave. Her loopy handwriting was romantic and her bittersweet farewells were so obviously prayers that one day, her Guil would make it home. Being part of the French army was a dangerous thing.

“Where did you find these?” you asked Eddie. The letters had absorbed all your attention. You’d read each of them, taking almost an hour.

Eddie stirred, eyes fluttering open. “Here,”

“He was here?”

“Guillaume de Bruyeres? Yes. He was,”

“These are… The dates on these were before he came to America. So, he was here to fight against the British Empire,”

“Guerre de la Conquête,” Eddie said, his French as fluent as yours. “They have always been like this, your humans. Always fighting for land. For resources. For title. They take and take, they recreate, repopulate, and expect their children to do the same. Little monsters who grow up with the same bloodthirsty nature for land. Resources. Title,”

“That’s the real monster, is it? Human endeavour?”

“Human conformity,” he corrected. “And don’t tell me you’re an advocate for colonisation, little witch. You love the forests and the animals too much,”

“I don’t love them enough. None of us do. I’m not an advocate for colonisation. I just don’t judge the humans for what they are.”

Eddie smiled. You were wrong, of course. You often judged them, as you did the vampires, albeit for different reasons. He’d leave you on your high horse though. He figured it would only take another decade or two before the humans disappointed you beyond repair.

“I knew you’d find the letters of interest. You did not hesitate to read them. Does privacy end in death, I wonder?”

You looked up at Eddie from where you were studying the ink on one of the letters. Feeling hot shame wash over you, you bundled the papers up and put them back in the suitcase.

“Why did you show me them if you were going to torment me for reading them?” you asked coldly. “You read them. You-”

“I what? I killed him? Took his furs and his love letters and never thought of him again?” Eddie was still casually laid out on the blanket. “I never read them. Not more than the addresses. And he was dead before I got here. The British found this foxhole. They took his furs and his rations and his weapons. I took the letters.”

For a moment you were silent. Eddie knew you were crying before you did. He had sat up, body mirroring your position, and reached out to brush the tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t know what you need me to think of you,” you whispered. “Some days you demand I face the truth. That you’re unholy. Undead. That I should not trust you and that this will all end in tragedy. Other days you trick me into being the one suggesting it, before rolling over to show me the humanity that’s left in you.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched and his gaze wandered down. He picked your hands up from your lap and held them. Apparently, from your high horse you had a vantage point to see him and all his contradictions.

“I took them to her,” he said. He frowned suddenly; you figured it was at the memory but it was that he’d let the confession slip out before he could stop himself. There was no choice but to continue. “I returned the letters to Marguerite. She was eating rye bread. Her lips were stained with wine. From the moment she saw me, she was afraid. At first, it was that I was a stranger. Then, that I had come with ill news about her husband. When I handed her letters, she sobbed.”

Eddie looked up and tried to gauge your reaction. Did you think this was a story of love or a confession of violence? He couldn’t read it on your face, but you knew the ending. The letters were in a rotting suitcase beside you, not buried with Marguerite as they should have been.

“She smelt so rich. I was not young, but I was not adept in restraint. Eighty-years-later and it still takes effort. I escorted the widow home. I bled her dry… I don’t know why I took the letters. I don’t know why I kept them. I don’t know why I have never been back to France. It’s surely not humanity that’s left in me.”

You were crying again.

There was no reason for a vampire to hold onto love letters. But he did.

“I would take death… over the unknown,” you spoke quietly. “If… If it were me. If I was Marguerite and I was given the choice. Live out my years and not know what became of my beloved. Or die knowing I was loved.” You looked up, stared into Eddie’s dark and unblinking eyes. “I would have let you bleed me dry if you brought proof I was loved.”

He’d woken that desire in you. So independent for all your years. Defiant. Self-governing. Seeking the company of your coven when you needed. Then, the vampire. The bright morning sun of something inside you screaming it needed to be loved.

“I think she would have too,” Eddie whispered.

“Are there others like you? Other vampires that… feel?”

“Not that I have met. And that is a saving grace. It would be a weakness snuffed out, if they thought it could exist,”

“If they find you with me?” It was a question you had been too afraid to ask.

Eddie hesitated. There was no point in shielding you from harsh truths anymore. “An eternity of unbridled agony. I imagine I’d wish for the witches to find a method of death for us. For them and for me.”

In the warm shadowy insides of a beautiful tree, you and Eddie held hands and looked at each other. He questioned his flaw of humanity. How had it survived his death and transformation? You questioned your judgment. What did you believe to be right and wrong now? Were there any such things as a definitive good? A definitive bad?

“I do know what I need you to think of me,” Eddie spoke. “I want you to be safe. I want you to live a long life. I want you to thrive. But… But I need you to love me. It… feels like breathing again. It feels like I can taste food. Crisp apples and butter. I need you to love me.”

You did.

You loved him so completely and utterly that it was all-consuming. You loved him as he was. As he would be.

Eddie caught you when you launched yourself at him, crashing your lips to his. You cried into the kiss and took the breathlessness of his crushing arms without complaint as he held you tight.

“We could run,” you said, knotting your fingers into his wild hair.

“What is a witch without her coven,” Eddie replied sadly.

“Loved. She can be loved.”

As layers of clothes were peeled away and skin was touched and kissed, the moon dimmed when eclipsed by cloud. Eddie nipped but never drew blood, just deep bruises you hid well. His tongue was never warm, but it was wet and could move with vampire speed, so fast that it vibrated against your core. He dragged you up, up, up and towards a shattering orgasm.

The whimpers and moans and constant rambling promises of love and lust drowned out the rest of the world. Eddie’s sharp senses didn’t detect the movement of his colony. You didn’t hear the screaming coming from the village beyond the forest and flatlands.

For one last night, it all seemed so possible.

…

1986

The trailer was muted in pensive silence. Lost in story, you replayed Henry Creel’s life in your head. The endgame came to you suddenly.

“I don’t know if I can kill Vecna,” you said. The others looked at you, disheartened. “But… One… One before you, El. Before the Upside Down… We can kill him.”

Most of the humans appeared confused. Hopper slowly asked, “You… can… time travel?”

“Oh, like a Baby Hitler situation?” Robin added, pointing up at you.

“No… and, no, no Baby Hitlers… Who he is now is just… trauma and scar tissue, right? What if I heal that? Heal the damage that has been done. Take him back to when he wasn’t as powerful.”

You looked mostly to El. She thought carefully before answering. “He has always been bad,”

“Yeah, I know. But he hasn’t always been unstoppable. You said he was contained at the lab, right? If humans contained him, then we can kill him.”

So, a plan was hatched. Vecna would not need to be hunted down; he was freely killing the townspeople of Hawkins. He would need to be called though and Will Byers was the perfect bait. He and El would draw Vecna’s mind back to Creel House and buy time.

“He’ll know something’s happening,” Nancy said.

“So, they can distract him with that. Tell him about me. About how I healed Erica of his poison. How I’m somewhere close and he won’t find me until it’s too late,”

“You really want to poke the bear like that?” Hopper asked.

“He seeks power. If he thinks he can get it through me, he’ll want to know everything they know,”

“But what if he… Gets into our heads. Sees this,” Will motioned to the room.

“I can hide this from him with a spell. It won’t last forever. A temporary cloak over time and space. But it will be enough.”

Joyce, Hopper, and Jonathan would stay with El and Will. They would protect them and pull them out if anything went wrong.

“I gotta be honest… I am not thrilled at the idea of going back there,” Robin admitted.

She and Nancy would take you through a gate, show you where Vecna was. Their Molotov cocktails and sawed-off shotguns may not have worked, but your witchfire and insidious healing would.

“I know we’ve gone over it, but… We are totally sure there is no possible way to get him up here?” Nancy asked. If he could be lured out of the Upside Down, Vecna would be a little less powerful. A little more vulnerable. Not by much, but even the smallest thing could tip the scales.

“We’ve gone over it a dozen times. This is it. If this doesn’t work-”

“It has to,” Joyce interrupted Robin. “It has to.” She looked from Will to Jonathan.

“Nance, one more time,” Hopper instructed.

Nancy recited the plan again and again. A kill plan. One that could not fail. You would not let it.

…

Needing time alone to prepare your craft, the humans left. They’d go back to Reefer Rick's house to eat and sleep before heading into what they hoped was the last supernatural battle of their lives.

You sat at the trailer’s kitchen bench for fifteen minutes or so in quiet stillness. It wasn’t long ago that you sat listening to the sounds of Hawkins. It was worse now. Loud rumbling tanks with no destination – no identified assailant of the attacks. Voices that could only speak in terrified and panicked tones. Lives being thrown into cars; tires speeding passed the ‘Come Back Soon!’ sign out of town.

Hawkins was hours away from becoming a ghost town.

Standing at a window, you looked out over Forest Hills. Although they had the least amount of worldly possessions, and some of the most mobile homes, these were the people who would leave last.

You turned away and took a breath. It was time to write a spell. It would not be easy, but the vampire had not yet returned, and with sunrise looming on the horizon, a difficult distraction was a welcomed thing.

…

1840

Sometimes, when the water rippled and showed your face as a distorted and immeasurable image, it’s when you recognised it best. The mud beneath the surface swirled up, making the picture all the more clouded.

“Did you hear me?” your aunt hissed.

Your gaze snapped up from the wet ground, the puddles of dirty rainwater and witch blood.

She shook her head at you.

“They’re immortal,” you said, voice floaty and lost. “Really immortal… Not like us,”

“Amabel…” She cursed 1836 in her mind, what it had taken from you. “Amabel, look at me. Listen to me. Tell me the plan.”

A witch could live as long as she wanted, granted no monster intervened. Vampires were monsters. You hated them with every fiber of your being. Every single molecule and atom that made up your bones and marrow loathed the irredeemable and soulless creatures.

You’d watched them tear your sisters to parts. Limbs scattered across the flatlands. Heads spiked onto branches in the forest you used to love. Yes, a witch could be killed.

“Amabel!”

“Lure. Lure them,” you said, pulling a dagger from your boot and slicing a deep cut along your forearm. Blood swelled to the surface and dripped from you. “I am the bait,”

“Yes. Lure them. We heard them like livestock into the cages. Hold them there to burn under the sunlight.”

You looked up from your bleeding arm to your aunt. Hard determination was set on her face. You could tell she was already concerned about you, so it didn’t much matter making it worse. “To what end? It won’t kill them. They’ll escape by next night,”

“You know why. We need practice.”

While the vampires withered during the daylight, vulnerable in cages, your coven practiced both witchfire and science. There had to be a way to kill them, and Penelope needed lab rats.

“I am the bait,” you repeated, glancing one more time at your reflection. “We will make them suffer.”

End Note: The tree in this chapter was inspired by one that I grew up near. The Herbig Family Tree is a literal tree that a German family lived in 1855. I was picturing that and also the 'olive tree of vouves', one of the oldest olive trees in the world. They are both these huge old things that have stood and witnessed entire lifetimes go by, and have amazing hollowed out bodies. They're cool. Trees are cool.

The Grimoire has no new additions for this chapter, but the timeline is updated.

We're gearing up for battle, folks!

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Witch!Reader

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