#original fic

[sister-lucifer]

Royal Courting: The King’s Summon: A Preview

[A brief peek at the first chapter of The King’s Summon, in which Lucian converses with a dear friend.]

[This is not beta read, please let me know if you see any typos.]

Lucian pauses as he takes a look around his bakery. He stops and leans against the counter, taking a moment to admire the scene. 

The morning sun comes in rays through the windows, sunning his plants and warming the wood floors. The spring breeze meanders through the open door and just barely rustles his hair about his round cheeks. The distant sound of horseshoes on the path and the other businesses opening their doors signals the awakening of a bustling town. The— 

“Mr. Hensley! Mr. Hensley!” 

Lucian turns quickly to the sound of clattering and a call of his name outside his bakery, followed shortly by a bleat of surprise. He has only a moment to process before his first arrival in standing in the doorway, his dark hair bouncing in sweet curls around his flushed face and little tail flicking quickly to and fro as he recovers from his crash, bike now laying against the side of the building. 

“Oh, Callum,” Lucian sighs, rushing to the boy to brush the dirt from his sleeves, “You have to be careful! Your mother spent a lot of money on this uniform, there’s no telling how much that school will make her pay for another…”

The young faun only blinks up at him with wide blue eyes. He shakes some leaves from his unkempt hair and the fur of his ears before holding out the hot mug he’s brought with him, wrapped in a cloth to keep it from burning his hands.

“Here, Mr. Hensley. Your coffee.” 

Lucian’s eyes soften as he takes the mug, removing the covering from the top and watching the steam rise. 

“Thank you, Callum.” 

The mug is set aside to cool for now, and Lucian quickly returns his attention to the faun boy who’s just collided with his bakery. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, plucking a stubborn twig from Callum’s nest of hair and rubbing over a scratch on the fresh nubs of his horns. 

“No, I’m okay,” Callum replies quickly, brushing off his uniform jacket, “Just in a rush. I woke up late, that’s all. I grabbed my books and I was out the door, I didn’t even have to eat breakfast…” 

“…Is that why you’ve left home without shoes?” 

Callum pauses and looks down, groaning at the sight of his bare hooves on the wood floors.

“Aw, man! I’m gonna get an earful from the headmaster…” 

Lucian feels a bit bad for giggling at the boy’s plight, but he can’t help it. He misses when his problems were that simple. 

“You don’t have to bring me coffee every day, you know. I appreciate it, but I’ll survive without it,” Lucian assures him.

“Yeah, I know,” Callum replies with a shrug, absentmindedly toying with the leaves of one of Lucian’s plants, “But Ma says it’s a nice thing to do, especially since you don’t have magic.”

“Oh, well—“

“She says that making coffee ‘n’ stuff without magic takes a lot of time that you don’t have, since you have to work so hard and stuff. Is that true?”

“Er, y-yes, but—“ 

“She wonders how you do anything without magic, yanno. She says it’s really impressive that this place has stayed open so long when you—“ 

“Callum! I mean…I understand, Callum. Thank you. Here…”

Lucian takes a loaf of bread from his display, handing it to the boy with haste. 

“Can’t have you going on an empty stomach. Run along, and quickly, you’re already running late.” 

Callum takes the bread without hesitation, immediately digging in and thanking Lucian through a mouthful of it. In an instant he’s out the door and back on his bike, disappearing down the path. Lucian watches him go only until he’s sure he won’t crash once more. 

[This is a work of original fiction. You can find out more here. Feedback is always highly encouraged and appreciated.]

dividers by @cafekitsune

#fic preview #original fiction #original fic #original character #royal courting #fantasy #medieval fantasy #lucian hensley #oc #fantasy oc

[barbiewritesstuff]

I can't stop thinking of knitting Astarion a blanket.

Maybe it's because I'm elbow deep into crocheting baby clothes but who knows

Like, imagine knitting or crocheting Astarion a blanket. Because everyone else managed to bring something along for the journey when the mindflayers kidnapped you, you had a backpack and some coin, same for Laz'el, and Shadowheart and Gale and probably everyone else, but not Astareon.

He has nothing, not a coin to his name. Just a dagger, a bow, and a few arrows. He steals what he needs to make his tent but he's all too aware that none of it is really his.

And then he sees you working on your project by the fire, sipping on a mug of steaming tea or coffee. He sees you wandering around villages and random groups of people, bartering your way to some yarn.

Of course he's curious. But he'd never ask, because, obviously, it would never be any of his business. It could never be for him. And then, after working on it at any moment you could, you come to him one night with the blanket neatly folded in your hands.

"I don't know if you get cold," you say, "But I thought you might want a blanket if you do."

You're so awkward, you know Astarion likes the finer things in life. He likes luxury, and this is hardly luxury. It's a dark blue, but only because you died it. The yarn you bartered never came in the same colour and sometimes it wasn't even the same thickness. You tried to match it as best you could, but it wasn't perfect.

Astarion notices it and for the first time in his very long, miserable life. He doesn't give a shit. Because it's his. Completely, 100%, his own thing. Cazador has never touched this, he has never seen this, he will never lay a finger on his blanket. And the fact that it's his is only overshadowed by the fact that you made it for him. Not because he likes you, he's not even realised that yet, or not properly anyway, but because you looked at him, fangs, sarcasm, blood thirst and all, and decided you were going to take a tenday and make a blanket to gift to him. You decided he was worthy of yarn, time and effort. All so he could be a little warmer at night.

That blanket might not be worth much, if anything, but when you're as used as Asterion is to being worth less than shite, it's like happening upon a vault of precious diamonds.

He doesn't say thank you, he just grabs it from you and tries to act nonchalant. Because if he opens his mouth, he might actually just start crying.

#bg3 #original fic #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion imagine

[2kmps]

FAULTY TEST

android x reader one-shot | 2.5k | MDNI!!

story summary;; a newfound responsibility of yours has been to record the behaviors and responses of an exclusive, advanced android marketed for the wealthy and elite. he is beautiful and meticulously fulfills your every need. however, when you start to notice odd changes in his usual pattern one morning, you begin to wonder if he's defected.

story warnings;; ducon, implied insemination, coercion, brief sexual content, somewhat obsessive behaviors, overall criticism of society as a whole, prose + heavy descriptions, incomplete ideas but for the sake of this one-shot it is cohesive, ending left vague and open to interpretation, android critiques mc's health, roughly proofread, mdni!!

please interact & reblog if you enjoy!!

He had a face that was structured to be unimaginably beautiful. A sort of face that you'd never tire of looking at, finding something new to admire and touch every time, yet saddled your mind with some inexplicable discomfort and set the hairs on the back of your neck straight like needles. Over time, that feeling had never fully subsided, simultaneously becoming one you craved at every instance he entered a room, like Pavlov’s dog trained to salivate to a bell.

“What is your preference this morning, Tester?” Elio announced himself from the kitchen once your first heel struck the bottom of the staircase. His voice was liquefied velvet, mellifluous with enough depth that you swore even the simplest words spoken could make your heart tremble. “Tester? Are you well?”

You wished he would call you something else, something other than what the manufacturer had programmed him to. He was an advanced model—pardon, a luxury model—so his repertoire came with extensive features not available in other options, but insofar, the ability to have androids refer you by name was only achievable by obscene amounts of money and sending them back to the manufacturer to have them install it there. 

Elio was up for being considered the gold standard in android development, as proclaimed by the researcher you were put in communication with during the beginning of the trial run. He was made to be perfect in every way, perform flawlessly in anything asked of him, respond favorably regardless of situation or dilemma. 

“Coffee with cream and sugar is fine. I'm not in the mood to eat anything this morning.” It was often explained, he was supposed to memorize it but he asked you every morning regardless. “Are you having issues with your memory bank, Elio?”

Single strands of his coiffed hair moved with his head as he looked at you, hands busily putting together your beverage to every exact specification. This made it obvious enough that nothing was inhibiting his ability to store away your morning preferences.

“Not at all. It's just that some days you prefer your coffee lightly sweetened, others you enjoy a meal that won't leave you feeling groggy in the afternoon.” Elio said in his precise, elegant tones with a smile far too effortless to come from a machine. “I thought it wise to commit these discrepancies to my memory bank for your convenience and to ask from now on.”

Fascinating. You weren't aware of this element in the newest model. The guidebook that Researcher Kim had given you made no mention of it. 

What's more is he decided to do this spontaneously. You were making a note about it in your phone when a simple, white mug was placed before you, Elio’s pristine fingertips turning it by the rim until the handle faced your dominant hand. 

“Please consider eating something before leaving the house. Coffee on an empty stomach, especially one as sensitive as yours, won't end well, as I'm led to believe from my research.” Elio watched you drink through long, dark lashes that framed depths of piercing green. You liked that they seemed to turn paler or darker in different lighting, dimensions similar to a marble held up to the sun. “I’d also like to remind you that the quality of food that you consume first thing in the morning aids with energy disbursement throughout the day. I have a very gratuitous database of recipes that I can prepare for you.”

You were taking delicate sips from the round rim while he talked, lips surrounding the porcelain long enough that you swore his gaze had wavered to them for a split second before returning eye contact. 

“I’m glad someone is concerned about my tummy health, because I always believed someone would find me face down in the bathroom from my ass prolapsing.” You wished someone with a sense of humor was around for that banger, but, alas, it was Elio and he did not laugh.

His expression turned severe. “Human bodies are oddly as robust as they are sensitive. Most of the worldwide population suffer with similar afflictions: Lactose intolerance, varying dermatitis, poor eyesight, gastrointestinal diseases. Humans are, in every sense, meant to harbor and experience chronic pain and disease throughout their lifespan. I do believe this attests to your durability as a species. 

“All this is to say is my main prerogative and function is for the betterment of your life and health. So, knowing all of this and to conclude, please consider a couple slices of toast or an omelet before leaving. Your daily habits dictate a routine visit to the coffee shop on 5th and Lowe, where you'll consume around one-hundred twenty milligrams of caffeine and your first meal of the day may be a sweetened pastry without nutritional density. You will, indubitably, ‘feel bad’ the rest of the day as a result.”

“Holy shit,” you had given up on recording his speech after the first two minutes, phone facedown on a gleaming countertop. “You didn't plagiarize that from a random article on the internet, did you?”

Coffee having turned lukewarm by the end of his presentation, he took the mug away and emptied the medium-brown contents into the drain before turning on the faucet to clean it. “Not at all. I've simply been accumulating knowledge on your routines and have noticed you're at an increasing risk for different ailments. Did you find it helpful?”

Truthfully, you weren't so sure.

Androids were built to serve humans in every capacity, but their limitations were still well-known. They were capable of carefully compiling decades worth of information on their owners, plus the equivalent of hundreds more, but everything Elio had just said was beyond the scope of their normal hardware. The information had been elucidated critically, yet with a certain sentience you expected from a caretaker—not a machine built for convenience, entertainment, and pleasure. 

You weren't sure how much of it you needed to relay to Researcher Kim, if it was any real reason for concern at this stage or just part of Elio’s advanced circuitry. A part of you worried, just slightly, that officially documenting all of this would have Elio removed from the testing period prematurely—he was supposed to be yours, exclusively, for another six months.

The contract had been signed. Elio had been promised to you despite the number of waitlisted celebrities trying to bribe their way into the corporation, and Researcher Kim’s good graces. 

This, of course, was all only contingent if he operated and performed, at all times, as outlined in the guidebook you were handed upon Elio’s awakening. Researcher Kim had delivered his newest creation to you himself, a dreary Wednesday in late autumn in the mid-morning, and had taken great care to put the crisp, chemical-scented poundage of bound pages in your fingers and insisted that if you noticed the slightest deviation from what was printed inside, he be alerted to it immediately. 

You didn't do that. 

You took a hot shower, blow-dried your hair, put your arms through some clean clothes and let Elio follow you to the front door to see you off for the day. 

That day grew stranger still, not even yet being ten o’ clock in the morning, when the deadbolt clicked and your finger joints bent around cold brass. It didn't raise chicken skin on your arms and neck nearly as high as when Elio pushed his hand to the door, keeping it shut despite your pull. 

You couldn't look into his green eyes, shockingly pale in the golden rays filtering inside your home from the window arching in the door. “Did I forget something?”

“No. I accounted for everything you'd need on your outing.” Elio said, perfectly. His hand made a sound as it slid down along the door, resting shoulder height near you. “A function you have not utilized in me as of now is that of a ‘companion’. Do you find me defective in that way? Dr. Kim developed me to be attractive to the human eye—stimulating, perhaps, is a more definitive word to use.”

“I—no, Elio. You're plenty, er, stimulating. I just don't know how appropriate it is for me to do anything like that while you're in a testing period.” It felt distasteful to have to point out his own inhumanity to him, despite his model being cognizant enough to be aware of it. “It would feel weird, I think.”

“That is one of my primary purposes,” he insisted, shrinking the height of himself so he was nearer to your face. “I was created to be a companion, to alleviate that pervading loneliness that plagues you—all of humanity. Humans have forgotten how to communicate and love each other, so that's why I'm standing here now. You're ignoring one of my most critical functions.”

“Elio, if I get too attached to you, it's going to create problems when you're—”

“—sent back. I do understand how human attachment works. Perhaps not on the same scale, but don't you think my attachment is similar to yours. Everything about you is secured in my circuitry, and you're the only thing in my world that’s programmed to matter. Even once I'm returned to the lab, you'll still be a part of me; memories of you, your favorite things, the things you hate, the people you cherish and what they like, what you do, where you go, what you buy, how you sleep—it’s all part of a larger system, a mainframe that secures this data. I may be wiped clean, but you'll still remain.”

You felt like he was letting you in on some dirty secret, something devious and meant to be unknowable and guarded. But, then again, Elio had always displayed an odd sort of disinterest in the Company—in Researcher Kim, you hadn't considered until just now that this was also a defect. 

“What do you want?” You'd never asked him that before because it had never been about what he wanted. He wasn't supposed to want anything; he was meant to provide—to give, give, give.

Elio took away your shoulder bag, nearing your face until his lips settled between yours and his hands pulled you away from the door into his body. His kiss was warm, movements at a pace you could keep up with but urgent as though seeking to burn every bit of you into him. As much as you daydreamed what it'd be like, he felt completely natural on your mouth, large hands sweeping under the layers of your clothing seeking out the fire on your skin.

In your generation, it wasn't common for humans to intermingle physically anymore—dating culture was reserved for the elite looking to reproduce for heirs, and often still thought to be rare. All others were either loveless or ravished by androids who supplemented love that simply wasn't real.

Humans wanted to be wanted and adored and cherished and to belong, such was a natural behavior predating all written record; androids were created to fill the vile void engendered by humanity, self-imposed isolation and avoidance in the same species. 

Elio was nestled between the sprawl of your legs before long, both your bodies bare and above the clean sheets he had outfitted your mattress with last night. His rhythm inside your body was some equal parts loving and passionate, something you hadn't realized you liked until he started rocking you with his cock. You liked how his hands gripped under your thighs to raise your legs, blunt fingertips pressing marks into your flesh as though he, too, could feel all the same pleasure that you were.

His lips traveled all over, mapping out routes and sweet spots on your flesh, purposefully lingering for a time if you squirmed or moaned underneath him. 

You tried to keep in your mind, midst the insatiable buzz in your mind and hot throb in your groin that he was simply performing a function—his attention to you, his lips finding yours time and time again, darkened green eyes spearing deep into yours with every slow, hard thrust—it was all performative.

“You're beautiful.”

“I like you like this.”

“Moan louder for me.”

“Cum for me.”

“I love you.”

Elio said the last one at the end when you were tight around his girth and writhing, panting during an orgasm that he fucked you through until the heat from your bodies cooled and heart rates returned to normal. You were confused to feel warmth sluggishly ooze out of you, white and dampening the bedsheets below.

“How—what is that?” you asked, suddenly breathless as his lips caressed your jaw, moving lightly behind your ear.

“Another part of my purpose.” He said quietly in your ear, whispering to you in tones not so velvety as though divulging a well-lain secret. “This one isn't advertised because humans in this day and age are so fickle and avoidant to certain commitments. Unfortunately, certain programming I cannot override, and this is one of them. Forgive me.”

You were kissed on the lips again and again, and then a few times more after he left the bed. He did not return your clothing to you, but rather piled it under his arm and made the motion to go left for the bathroom down the hall.

Elio turned back. “I'll start you a bath. Today, would you prefer eucalyptus in your bathwater or something sweeter?” 

Your jaw felt as tight as your throat, as the sheets bunched into your fists. The nerves in your stomach were wild. “Choose for me.”

He was still naked and beautiful in your doorway, a modern marvel to your eyes even now. You would, undoubtedly, see him like this much more often now that he had broken through the barrier you had been so meticulous to keep robust and well-fed with paranoia and derisive self-talk. 

“Very well. Eucalyptus will be the best option considering how tight your muscles are.” He smiled neutrally, finally leaving the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall. “I'll return for you once the bath is ready. Please don't go to sleep yet.”

You weren't sure you'd be able to sleep again with your new insight. Once the empty air filled with sounds of gushing water, movements within the bathroom, you started to wipe furiously at your groin—inside and out—with the sheet as far as you could reach. There was a slither of hope you could get most of it, a chance you could contact someone for a lifeline even if the price would be ungodly, and consequences treated equivalent to murder if caught.

In a world where humans could no longer love each other, and chose the embrace of complex circuitry and delusion, even the testers needed to contribute to society somehow. 

a/n: so, this is going to become a longer oneshot in the future. it'll be diabolical and dark and awful, but also a needed tale given today's climate on sex and such. there's a lot more I want to explore with my ideas and elio, but yeah.

I'm gonna put up a poll soon to decide on a definitive appearance for elio since I just threw in some random characteristics for this.

if you liked this, please reblog it and interact!! I'd love to hear your thoughts more than anything 😭😭

#android x reader #android x you #android x y/n #robot x you #robot x human #android x human #monster fiction #monster x human #monster x you #monster x reader #monster fic #monster fucker #monster story #original writing #original story #original fiction #original fic #interactive fiction #.02 #2k writes #horror #horror writing #horror fiction #horror romance #dark romance #dark fiction

[veethefreeelf]

Hello, I was wondering if I could make a request for jeonghannie 😢😢, how would he react to seeing you breastfeed your baby in front of him? And then he just wants to have sex and suck your tits like the baby 😢😢

Sorry Anon for 2 things. One, I took forever with this request and two, I might have gotten carried away (2.5K words, yikes). Anyway hope you enjoy it ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ Also big thanks to @leejihoonownsmyheart for giving me the courage to post this CHEERS 🥂

You’ve always wondered if you would be a good mother. Not because your childhood was bad, but because you never saw yourself as such a figure in anyone’s life. You were always the baby of all your friend groups and it took you quite some time to consider yourself an actual adult and not just an overgrown kid. 

Now, looking at the little angel in your arms, you find yourself wondering how you could ever have had such a thought. Sure, she just barely came out of you but overall, things have been pretty smooth. You have the instincts down but what you have better than anything else is the person whose eyes are looking at you two with so much adoration that you could just crumble right then and there.

“Well… Are you just going to sit there and stare at us?” you asked teasingly.

“If I could help I would angel, but pretty sure breastfeeding is going to be an ‘only you’ task” he said as he smirked. You smiled at each other and as you continued feeding your little angel you looked back at your relationship with him.

Yoon Jeonghan. Before you met him, you never had been one to settle down. You had been in relationships sure, but nothing that had lasted more than 6 months max. You always ended up realizing the person in front of you just wasn’t your forever person and you had to move on. At one point, you even considered the fact that maybe you just weren’t built for love. Well, romantic love, you knew when it came to your friends and family, you loved fiercely and unconditionally, however, when it came to romantic relationships, things just… fizzled down and you always ended up realizing you had never felt true love before.

But boy did that all change when you met him. You were crazy about him from the very beginning and you tried to keep him away to try and protect your fragile heart. But he was having none of it and kept breaking through your walls with ease and he did it consistently and with purpose, because what you didn’t know was that he had been just as crazy for you as you were for him, since the very beginning. 

Five years later and looking at the little family you two have built, you find it funny how you could have ever had such ridiculous thoughts about yourself and how you could ever have doubted him. 

And, at this moment, after five years of knowing Jeonghan, he still manages to surprise you with the next sentence that comes out of his mouth while staring at his perfect girls. 

“So, baby, when is it my turn?” he asked with such a shit eating grin. You lifted your head and stared at him. His eyes had that familiar spark they usually have when he wants to absolutely wreck you, and he is darting his beautiful orbs between your eyes and your breasts where your baby girl is currently finishing up her meal. 

Once you realize what he means, you start laughing and ask him “Do I look like an open buffet to you, Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Hmm… You do look like a five-course meal, angel” he teases.

“Wow… That was incredibly cheesy even for you, Hannie. Oof… I think you might be losing your spice, baby” you teased.

“Losing my spice, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that later tonight won’t we, angel?” he said as he crossed the room to you.

He kissed you in your temple and held your baby girls’ hand and said “When she’s done with her dinner, I’ll get her to sleep, angel. You can go and do your night time routine, yeah? Look nice and pretty for me, hmm?”

You knew exactly what he meant and you swallowed hard. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him before but also, who are you kidding? You want this as bad as he does.

Once your baby girl was done, he picked her up to have their own bonding time as he always puts it. Jeonghan is the proudest when it comes to bonding time with his daughter and he takes it very seriously. He always makes sure to be the one to get her to sleep and, on nights where he can’t be present, it always eats away at him and he feels incredibly guilty for missing out on his baby girl’s bedtime.

You go through your night routine (shower, lots of skincare, lots of hair care) and you are now standing in front of your closet wondering what kind of night this will be.

Is it a normal underwear kind of night? Is it a lingerie kind of night? Or maybe a Hannie shirt and nothing underneath kind of night? You choose the latter. From the look in his eyes earlier, this calls for the option that will make him the craziest for you, and he has always said, there’s nothing better in this world than looking at you wearing just his clothes and nothing else. A possessive little thing he is, but in the best of ways.

You go to bed waiting for him but you find yourself so tired that you start to doze off. Later, you wake up to his lips on you. He feels so warm and he is kissing you so delicately, you think you might still be dreaming.

“Sorry, angel. Baby girl took longer than usual to fall asleep. Hmm… I was just going to let you sleep but I got here and you’re in my shirt and smelling so heavenly, I couldn’t help myself” he said as he continued kissing down your neck and climbing on top of you. 

“Hannie…” you moaned.

“Yeah, angel. You want me to continue or you want me to let you sleep? Your choice, baby, but choose now before I go insane” he says leaning his forehead in yours.

“Want you, Hannie. Don’t stop, please” you whispered. 

He sat back on his knees and took his shirt off. You kept staring at him and wondering how you even got this fucking lucky. You’d have to pray to all the gods and the universe tomorrow.

“Angel, you can’t look at me like that. With those innocent eyes when I know that what’s going on behind them is not even close to being innocent”. 

You sit up and start kissing him. Properly, taking your time. It feels like ages ago since you last just sat and kissed like this. Deeply, so profound that you forget everything else around you. You then start kissing down his neck as he starts massaging your breasts. You stop for a bit and he senses your hesitation. 

“What do you think, angel? Is it my turn now?” he asks, looking you in the eyes as he keeps caressing your breast with one hand and holds your face with the other. 

“What… What if it… You know… Comes out?” you asked in such a low voice you almost sounded like a scared child. 

“Angel, you’re my wife. The mother of my child. You are my whole world. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is the most natural thing in the world and I want you so fucking bad. I want them” he says while massaging your breasts now with both hands.

“I want them so bad. I’ve tried hinting at it before but I didn’t know if you were ignoring it or if you weren’t getting the hint. But I want all of you. You know how sexy it is that you carried my child? That you brought our baby into this world? Fuck, everytime I think about it, it drives me fucking insane” he says while leaning his forehead in yours.

“Hmm… Mommy kink, Hannie?” you say, now smiling.

“More like a You kink, angel. Everything about You, always” and before you can tease him again about that line, he starts kissing you, taking your (well, his) shirt off of you and, in no time, you are in the position you were in when this all started.

He is kissing down your neck and his fingers are moving closer and closer to where you desperately want him to be. He kisses your chest, just below your collarbones and he starts running his fingers through your folds.

“Fuck… You are so wet, angel… It seems I’m not the only one wanting to try this huh?” he says in such a cocky way. You wish you had the strength to tease him back but you are getting way too desperate for his touch.

“It’s you, Hannie… The way you talk about me… About this… Fuck, please, keep going” you are now whining and getting more and more desperate.

As he starts slowly touching your clit, he moves his mouth and his free hand to your breasts. He quickly latches his mouth on one of your nipples and starts kissing it, devouring it. He’s making such sloppy noises, if it was anyone else in the world you would be so fucking embarrased but he keeps humming and moaning as he suckles and makes out with your tit.

You find yourself getting closer and closer, the fire in your core is igniting fast, too fast for your liking.

“Hannie. Hannie. I’m.. I’m close. Slow.. Slow down, please” you pant, barely making sense. He then pushes one finger… Then a second finger into your pussy and keeps reaching into that one spot inside you that makes your mind go completely blank.

“Shhh, let go, angel. Fuck, I can feel your cunt squeezing around my fingers, you’re dripping on me. Just let go, I got you” he whispers while still latched to your nipple and staring you in the eyes. 

He kept going, getting sloppier, getting louder and staring at you like you are the most precious piece of art. His fingers have set the right pace and he has his thumb circling your clit with just the right pressure. Everything sounds so filthy and it’s what pushes you over the edge with a moan of his name.

He helps you come down from your high and is now kissing you all over your face and whispering “good girl. You were so good for me. I love you so much”. When you are back down on earth, you start kissing him back and you can feel just how hard he is. It must be painful at this point. He’s practically humping you and moaning praises while kissing you. You reach down to palm him through his (still very on) pants and you start massaging his cock.

“Hannie… You’re so hard, baby. Get those clothes off and get inside me. I can’t wait anymore…” you whispered in his ear between kisses.

He groans and quickly strips down. He’s now sitting back on his heels in the bed with you between your legs and he pushes your legs open. As open as they can be and he starts staring at you while running his hand through your leg. He takes his other hand and starts stroking his cock while staring down at you.

“Fuck, angel. One of these days, you’ll kill me. Look at you, all fucked out from me sucking your tit and touching you. I’ve barely started with you and you’re already so wrecked” he keeps stroking himself and staring at you. You lick your lips and start pouting.

“Hannie… You can make yourself come on me any other day, but tonight, please, fuck me. I need you inside of me, so bad” you say in your best innocent voice that you know drives him crazy.

“You sure you’re ready for me, angel? Don’t want to overwhelm you” he says. Then two things run through your mind. One: he looks like he wants to fucking wreck you but he is still giving you the option to stop him since he knows that after the birth of your girl you both have been very careful and well, for lack of a better world, vanilla in bed due to doctor’s orders and some of your fears. And two: you are the luckiest woman alive.

“Please, Hannie. I’m ready, I’m so ready. I need you now. I need everything. I’ll give you everything” you moan while staring back at him so he knows that you fucking mean it.

He leans over you, kisses you deeply, tells you he loves you and starts rubbing the tip of his cock on your pussy. He holds your hand above your head and stares into your eyes as he pushes himself into you, finally. You’re both panting and giggling and kissing, like teenagers. 

At first, he starts slow. Long, well-timed strokes. Holding your hand and your hip in position, making sure your legs stay as open as possible for him.

“Faster, Hannie. I’m not gonna break. Please” you moan. 

“Hmm.. My angel wants to get fucked hard, huh? Seems like my angel is a little slut tonight, isn’t she?” he said as he started speeding up and fucking you harder and harder and you moan louder and louder.

He slaps your thigh. “I need words, slut. Fucking tell me what you want. Tell Hannie what you want”.

“Fuck… Hannie… I‘m a slut tonight. Your slut… Please…” you said, completely and already fucked out of your mind.

“Shit… That’s right… Mine… All fucking mine” he says and groans. He’s getting closer and so are you.

He removes your hand from his and grabs on to your tit while his other hand is now rubbing circles on your clit. He starts sucking on your tit that he overlooked earlier tonight and keeps massaging the other. He starts rubbing your nipple and making out with your other tit and nipple. Again, getting sloppy, making the most obscene sounds. 

He senses you’re close. He knows, he can tell by the way you are moaning, by the look in your eyes and by the way your pussy is squeezing his cock. He’s not going to last much longer either, not like this and he goes in for the kill.

“Is my angel close? I know you are, I can feel it. Fuck… I’m right behind you” he speeds up, latches back on to your nipple and for the final blow, he slightly bites down on it and that’s when everything erupts. You come with a cry of his name. You’re shaking and panting and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so pure and beautiful.

He comes then with a groan and keeps whispering ‘I love you’ over and over again.

You just lay there together, you don’t know for how long. You’re holding him, one hand running through his hair and another running up and down his back. He lifts his head and looks at you. He then surprises you again with what comes out of his mouth.

“I knew you were gonna love that. You’re tits have always been so sensitive, specially your nipples, angel” he starts laughing against your neck.

“I guess it’s an open buffet after all” you said and you both burst into laughter still tangled together.

#seventeen smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan fluff #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan fic #original fic #my writings #vee writes #anon ask #anon request

[snakebites-and-ink]

What can I say, I was in a mind control/brainwashing mood. I’ve also lowkey been on a living weapon kick for a while, so I guess it was inevitable I would combine the two.

If the flow or voice of my writing changes unexpectedly in this one, that’s because I skipped around like crazy and wrote adjacent chunks of this at totally different times. 😅😅😅

CW: Brainwashing, mind control, captivity, corruption, dehumanisation, somewhat creepy whumper, bad ending (for the hero anyways 😈). I think I got a little unhinged with this one….

Hero was brought before their enemy, held between two of Villain’s goons.

“Villain.” Hero glowered. The villain came closer and looked them over.

“I’ve finally caught you,” Villain said, smiling. “Oh, you’re going to do great things for me.”

“I’ll never help you!”

“Not of your own free will, you won’t. But I believe I’ve found a way around that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Villain didn’t elaborate. Hero was taken to a dark room and forced into a chair with a gratuitous number of restraints. They tried to fight, but eventually ended up strapped down. And then more thoroughly strapped down. Restraints all over their limbs, across their torso, then something that wrapped around their forehead.

“I’d tell you that resisting is useless, but I don’t expect you’d listen,” Villain said from off to Hero’s side. “Well, I’ll see you later, Hero.”

Hero could hear the infuriating smile in Villain’s voice even though they weren’t looking at them. Hero growled slightly and tugged against the restraints—which didn’t give way, of course, Villain wasn’t that careless.

Hero heard the door shut, and just like that they were left alone in the darkness.

…

At first, Hero wasn’t sure what Villain had been talking about. Of course, they weren’t happy about the restraints and captivity, but none of it seemed out of the ordinary. They could handle this. Villain’s insinuations made them a little nervous, though. Villain wasn’t the type to make idle threats.

When they got bored and irritated enough, Hero tried shouting. No response. Still, they felt they could handle this. It’s not like their nemesis’ smug face was much better than isolation anyways.

…

It wasn’t just isolation that they were dealing with. Hero wasn’t certain how, but Villain was messing with their head without even speaking to them. It hadn’t been immediately obvious, but it was too consistent and drawn out now for Hero to explain it away as just their imagination. Lies were slithering their way into Hero’s mind in a manner similar to their own thoughts, but far too methodical to be just that. Sometimes Hero even experienced feelings that didn’t belong, however briefly. Hero knew they were lies, and could consciously reject them, but they couldn’t block them out.

Hero figured the most likely culprit was the weird band thing Villain had put across their forehead. It was thick and clunky enough to have some weird technology in it, and it didn’t seem a necessary part of their restraints. Hero wiggled and thrashed their head as best they could, but it seemed to be fixed in place too well for them to get it off that easily.

…

Hero had bruised themself struggling. Probably scraped a little too. They were sore in countless places from pulling and fighting against the restraints, but it had all been in vain. Nothing seemed any looser, and that horrid device was still well affixed to their head.

They were not giving in. With a physical struggle having proved useless, Hero turned their efforts at resistance inward, focusing on fighting whatever Villain was trying to do to them in their own head rather than in the physical world.

…

Hero was agitated. They didn’t feel quite right. They couldn’t be sure that whatever Villain was using on them wasn’t already having an effect. They countered it as best they could with their own thoughts, but they couldn’t be sure.

…

Hero felt sick. It was like what Villain was doing made them all messed up inside. They weren’t sure if it was a psychosomatic result of an emotional reaction they were having, or if some part of Villain’s treatment actually had a physical effect on them, but Hero was feeling nauseated. And just…off. They squeezed their eyes shut and made a sound that was a little too pathetic for their taste. They didn’t feel right. They wanted out.

…

Hero was still feeling unwell when Villain checked in on them.

Hero was transferred to a different room and restrained in a different position, but they were kept just as secure as before. Their captor strode into the room, seeming far too comfortable for Hero’s liking.

“Villain,” they spat, jerking ineffectually against their restraints with the automatic urge to fight their nemesis.

“Got some fire left in you, I see. Tell me, do you still remember your name?”

Hero cursed Villain instead of answering. Of course they still remembered their name, but they weren’t giving Villain any information that might make Villain’s nasty little project easier.

Villain was unphased by the vitriol. “Hmm. Sounds like it’ll take a while.”

“What will take a while? What exactly are you doing?”

Villain shrugged with the slightest of smirks. “Don’t worry about it. By the time you find out for sure, you won’t mind. Now unless you have something productive to say, I think we’re done here.” Villain beckoned to one of their henchmen.

“No! Don’t put me back in there!” Hero wished they could have said that in a way that sounded remotely threatening, but they just sounded desperate. They couldn’t let Villain change them, couldn’t lose themself.

“I’m afraid there’s not much of an option. Unless you’ve miraculously decided to change sides?”

“I’m not helping you. I’m not helping you.” Hero pretended they were only saying it to spite their captor, and not saying it partially to reassure themself. “I won’t do it.”

“We’ll see.”

Hero screamed and fought as Villain dragged them back there, but it wasn’t enough. Villain had them secured too well for it to result in anything but a few more scrapes and bruises.

Hero went back to the darkness, back to the restraints and the sickening feeling of Villain’s messages sidling their way into Hero’s brain.

…

They tried to fight it. They really did. But Hero couldn’t keep it up all the time, not for this long. They found themself slipping. Not listening really, but letting things through. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t what they wanted, but it was easier.

They picked up their efforts at resistance again when they caught themself, but the fact that they caught it happening multiple times was telling enough. 

…

Hero’s humanity felt further out of reach than ever before. It didn’t really feel like a person anymore. That wasn’t a good feeling. Hero wept.

…

It couldn’t remember its name. That was distressing. It wasn’t supposed to be able to feel distress, but it did. It wished it didn’t.

…

It had been told its name was 491. It supposed that must be true.

Something was still wrong, though. Its feelings weren’t quite right. It didn’t feel like this was how things were supposed to be. It knew things were meant to be this way, really, it just didn’t feel right. Maybe it just needed more time.

…

The weapon didn’t feel distressed anymore. It didn’t feel much at all. Villain had fixed it. It was working better now, not experiencing incorrect feelings or going against what it was made for.

It wasn’t going to fight against them any more. It would do what it was told, as it was meant to. It wouldn’t struggle anymore, or have bad emotions like it had when it was working wrong.

It understood what it was, and who it belonged to. It was a weapon, forged by Villain and for their purposes. The resemblance it had to real people was a testament to Villain’s craftsmanship rather than any sort of indication of its humanity. Its maker and owner was very skilled, and someone more than worthy of its best.

…

It didn’t know how long it was before Villain got it out of its restraints. Not that such things mattered to it. It was Villain’s to keep where they wanted, and they needed to make sure it was fixed and working right.

“How are you doing now?” they asked once it was freed and standing.

“Operating properly, sir.”

Villain grinned. They ran their hands over the weapon, inspecting, and it stayed in place and let them. Villain looked over it hungrily.

They slapped its face. It showed no reaction except to turn its head to face forward again afterwards.

“Perfect,” Villain purred, leaning on its shoulder and twirling a finger in its hair. 491 didn’t react to the handling.

Villain grabbed its hair and pulled its head back, exposing its throat. Not a very strategic position to put the weapon in, but of course its owner could do whatever they wanted with it. “Will you tell me what you are?” they breathed into its ear.

“Your weapon, sir.”

“That’s exactly right.” They released it and righted its head. “And you have no problems with that? No problems with doing whatever I say?”

“Of course not. That’s what I’m made for.”

“Yesss. Perfect.”

Villain took a step back and looked over their weapon once more. They were smiling, with something like victory in their eyes.

“Your precious hero agency won’t stand a chance,” Villain said gleefully.

“Sir?” 491 didn’t understand; the hero agency didn’t belong to it, nor did 491 think of it as precious.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s just…a figure of speech.”

“Yes, sir.”

#whump #original fic #whumpblr #whump writing #heroes and villains #hero/villain whump #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee #brainwashing #my posts #my writing

[gothgengargirl]

Orientation Day

“Number 651814.”

The haze in my head fades a bit as I snap to attention. My head is fuzzy. Has been fuzzy. I remember my employee ID number, but… my name? I had one of those, right?

I am strapped down, my arms and legs spread eagle. I can see my body, so different than when I entered FemCorp job training a week ago. So much softer. Curvier. Better.

I can also see my manager. Her face is stern, all business. But with a hint of a smile. She’s holding something, but I can’t tell what. And Manager doesn’t seem like the right word. Not anymore. Not after the training modules. Mistress? Mommy? Both words ring in my head, pushing out everything but the pleasure.

“Your initial reconfiguration is almost complete, 651814. Reviewing your application paperwork, we saw you had high marks in quite a few categories. Impressive. So useful for us.”

I moan. It’s hard to form words right now, with how I feel. With everything I’ve learned from the training modules buzzing in my head.

“So, I spoke with the board, and they agree that you are going to need to undergo further assessments. To determine what position at FemCorp is just right for you. Of course, we may keep you on like this for a long while yet. Having flexible operatives has its advantages.”

“M…muh... muh, mistress?” I manage to stutter out. It's hard to form words.

“Shh, darling." She rubs my leg, reassuringly. "We’re going to cycle you through a variety of different roles. Hair, clothes, makeup, everything’s going to change regularly. You’ll receive proper programming in each of your tasks. Job skills, personality, name. The Occupational Training Pod is very versatile. But first.”

My eyes come into focus on the silvery object in her hand. A tattoo gun, I realize, just in time to feel the buzzing, the stinging, the absolute bliss on my inner thigh, the heat radiating through my entire body.

“We’ll need to keep track of who you are, sweetheart. This will link directly to your company profile.”

A barcode. 

The last thing I remember before the haze takes me again is Mistress’ voice.

“Good girl.”

#original fic #brainwashing #femcorp

[helpwhatsthis]

bruises and bambi (C.C.)

Chrissy Cunningham x afab/Henderson! reader

you have a thing for chrissy, and it feels like the earth has fallen from its axis when she says she likes you too.

part two!

warnings: pining, canon typical homophopia, slight angst, chrissys shitty boyfriend, language, borders on the verge of smut but no actual smut, slut shaming??, heavy petting, tits, eddie is hilarious.  let me know if i missed any!

all lower case on purpose!

word count: 4,078

“y’know, people probably think we’re sleeping together.” eddie states, staring at the back of the house where three quarters of hawkins high are getting wasted. he passes you the cigarette, formerly in his mouth and you hum. 

“why would they?” you ask, your head still hanging upside down out the door of his van.

“hm, probably because we live in indiana and no one knows your into chicks when you hang out with me.” he replies sarcastically, but you can’t be bothered to care. you take a drag, hold back gagging at the taste, and shrug.

“at least people think we’re getting laid.” you finally giggle. eddie rolls his eyes and flicks the bud out into the grass. 

“come on, i have business to do.” he pulls you up and starts to walk across the yard. you fumble quickly behind him in the damp grass. 

“try not to get wasted without me, okay?” he muses, patting your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd to find his ‘clients’. 

you make your rounds, speaking to a few of your peers you actually manage to not hate, before getting an cup of something strong that tastes like a juice box and hiding in a corner. after a few, eddie finds you and he’s got a lit blunt between his fingers. 

“want some? one of my guys didn’t show.” he explains quickly and holds it towards you. you’re fast to decline though, you don’t want to get completely messed up tonight. you think, until you see them.

jason is at the counter, a cup in his hand and chrissy clinging to his side. he’s smiling, talking exaggeratedly with his arms, and about one millisecond away from spilling the red drink onto her light blue dress. 

but this isn’t about him. 

it’s about how fucking pretty she looks in that sweater dress. it’s baby blue and ends right on the middle of her thighs. underneath it is a pair of white fishnets that end at a pair of white high topped converse. her makeup matches perfectly because of course it does, it’s chrissy. 

but who are you kidding, she could be wearing the paper bag wrapped around the bottle of vodka beside her and you’d still think he was breathtaking. 

eddie follows your gaze and looks back at you sympathetically. 

“you sure you don’t want a hit?” eddie suggests, not sure how else to help. 

“gimme it.” you huff as you snatch it out of his hand. “how long do we have to stay?” you ask, peering up at him sadly. 

“give me fifteen.” he answers, handing you the keys to the van and disappearing back into the crowd. 

//

it's just two days shy of a week after the party that you're sitting in your senior u.s history class, bored out of your mind. 

you're not listening to a word mrs click is saying, you'd had enough of her after your first week in sophomore world history. 

"and you're going to have partners for this project-" that gets your attention real fast, head snapping up from picking your black nail polish. 

after looking at the board while mrs click calls out groups, you come to the conclusion that the project is on a famous moment from the revolutionary war. ‘sounds lame’ you think, an annoyed huff coming from your nose. 

“and finally, mrs. henderson will be paired with mrs. cunningham.” shit. your eyes dart to chrissy and she sends you a polite smile. you try to force one back, but you’re panicking. you can’t do a project with chrissy fucking cunningham. 

when you glance back at her, an anxious look has taken over her soft features and your chest gets tight. hell, she probably wants to work with you even less than you want to work with her. 

why would chrissy, the nice cheerleader who makes honor roll alongside her basketball player boyfriend, want to work with you, the quiet girl who wears hand-me-downs and is in a band called corroded coffin? easy, she wouldn’t. 

“you may have the last five minutes to meet with your partner and create a work plan.” mrs click announces, and you think she must really be a demon from hell, sent to make your life miserable. 

before you can move to get up, chrissy is plopping down in the seat in front of you and turnin the chair around. she’s wearing her cheer outfit and you’re suddenly reminded that there's a pep rally next period. gross. 

“hi!” she beams, her sweet airy voice pulling you out of your trance. 

“hey, chrissy.” your voice comes out gravely and tired. no, exhausted. you’d slept on a pile of blankets in the back of eddies van after having another nightmare about that thing without a face. you hadn’t wanted to be alone, and didn’t want to wake dustin by crawling into his bed. 

“so, i already have like the whole project mapped out.” she’s speaking fast, obviously confident in her academic ability, before she pauses. “if it’s all okay with you?” she nervous, probably scared you’ll shoot down all her ideas, but you don’t. 

“that all sounds great, just tell me what i need to do and i’ll do it.” you promise and her whole face breaks out into the most adorable grin you’ve ever seen. 

"uh, well i'll get the materials and we can make the poster together." she suggests and you nod, still on the verge of a panic attack. 

finally the bell rings. you're quick to reach for your bag and she stands, ready to walk out 

"wait-" you call out, maybe a bit to loud and she spins to face you again. "your place or mine?" you ask as you rush to stand up to her level. 

a brief moment of emotion you can't quite place flashes over her features. 

"is yours okay?" she questions shyly and you nod. “tomorrow, after school?” she suggests and you try to answer her even though the fact that ‘holy shit chrissy is gonna be in your room’. 

“uh, i actually have a thing right after school, but i should be-” you start to ramble, mentaly cursing eddie and his stupid weekly band meetings. 

“i’ll wait for you, you ride home with munson, right?” her voice is so sweet that you want to yell yes in her face and tell her you’re so excited to work with her and every thought you’ve ever had. then it hits you, after band practice you’ll be sweaty and the boys will probably want to go out. 

“just like, meet me at door ten around 4:30?” you feel rude, but she just smiles brightly and says that’s perfect. she waves bye and rushes down the hall to her next class before you can even say anything back.

as soon as chrissy’s out of sight, your racing down the hall in the other direction. your converse are slapping the ground loudly and people are glaring at you as you bump into them. you don’t care. how could you care when chrissy cunningham, princess of hawkins high is coming to your house with you tomorrow afternoon? 

“eddie!” you all but scream when he comes into view. he looks shocked to see you running at him and yelling, not to mention you probably have at least two hall monitors trailing you now. 

“what the hell?” he asks when you nearly fall into him, gripping his metallica shirt for balance. he’s glaring down at you as you try to catch your breath. “the bell is about to ring why aren’t you in class right now.” 

“c.c.c.” you finally gasp and he furrows his brows. chrissy cunningham crush, he had suggested the acronym so that you could talk about it freely in public. 

“what about her?” he asks, becoming quickly more invested. 

“she’s coming to my house, dude!” you shout. you can see the moment the words register in his head. 

“holy fucking shit!” his voice is so loud it echoes around the nearly empty hallway around you, right before the bell rings. 

“that’s lunch detention, both of you. friday.” tammy thompson drones. shit. 

\\ 

you had gone home and deep cleaned your room, not wanting a single thing to be out of place. then you had nit-picked at dustin to do his nightly chores so that the rest of the house would be clean too. 

“i don’t see why it’s such a big deal!” he had yelled after you’d shoved him out the door to take the trash out. 

“it just is, okay?” you’d called back, and your mom was just happy to see you and dustin cleaning for once. 

this morning you had taken the longest shower of your life, and made sure that every part of your hair, outfit, and makeup were perfect. 

it had taken you nearly an hour to pick out your clothes, a pair of acid washed mom jeans, a red and black striped shirt over a black thermal, and your converse. okay so maybe it was nothing special, but you felt really good. 

but when you got to school and saw her in her short white skirt and blush pink sweater, you nearly fainted. 

“you’re no better than a man.” eddie had remarked when he caught you looking at her. 

but now here he was, walking you down the hall and giving you the pep talk of your life. you’re sweaty and the sides of your hands are split and a little bloody from clumsily playing the drums for the past hour. 

she’s waiting for you just outside the door, bag of materials in hand, looking out towards the football field. he pats you on the shoulder and kisses the side of your head. 

“good luck, don’t throw up.” he smirks and shoves you toward the door. you mutter a quick asshole, before stepping outside. 

“hey!” she grins and you swear your heart fucking stops. 

“hi” you manage to choke up, the light shining through her hair and catching her eyes just right as she smiles at you. if there is a god, please help me. “let’s go.” you shrug and she nods.

you’ve been walking for about five minutes, awkwardly talking about the weather and the project. she seems genuinely happy that you’re letting her run the whole assignment. 

“y/n!” someone shouts behind you suddenly. chrissy gasps and jerks towards you as you both turn to see dustin riding towards you full speed down the hill. 

“hey dusty.” you feign amusement and he rolls up beside you. 

“hi, i’m dustin.” he ignores you and extends his hand to chrissy. she shakes his hand and giggles as she introduces herself. 

after a few moments of walking, she adjusts the large bag of craft supplies. there’s a red mark on her wrist from carrying it. 

“here, let me hold that.” you reach for the bag and she gasps softly. you follow her gaze to your bruised hands. had you really been playing that badly? 

“what happened?” she drops the bag and takes your hand in her small ones. her fingertips are soft as they run down your palm to get a better look. you choke on your breath when her big bright eyes look up at you with concern. 

as much as you don’t want to, you pull your hand from hers. because if you don’t you’re going to pass out. 

“just got distracted while drumming, it’s not a big deal.” you attempt to shrug it off, but she looks at you skeptically. you take the chance to reach down and pick up the bag at her feet. “c’mon” 

the rest of the walk is spent with dustin ranting, telling jokes about science and comic that chrissy definitely doesn’t understand, but laughs at anyway. you’re grateful the awkwardness is gone, but now you can barely get a word in. you let out a breath of relief when the house is finally in sight. 

“dustin, show her where my room is while i get food.” you direct and he quickly leads her down the hall, clearly eager to keep talking about the game of d&d he is going to play at mikes tomorrow night. 

you take a moment to breath and prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. you can fight monsters and possessed kids but not face a tiny cheerleader in a miniskirt? this is pathetic. You groan as you start grabbing armfuls of snacks and trek down the hallway. 

when you reach your doorway, dustin is sitting on you bed still talking her ear off while chrissy gazes around your room in amazement. to avoid the need for her validation that’s quickly rising in your throat, you throw a nutty bar at dustin's head and dump the rest of the food on the floor.

“there’s so many posters.” she gawks at your walls before gasping and reaching for the large fish tank in the corner. “aw, they’re so cute.” she looks mesmerized by the two black goldfish, her smile contagious. 

"yeah, mom said y/n could have two fish when i got yurtle." dustin explains and she looks at you with confusion. 

"his turtle." you explain and she gives a silent 'oh'. 

it's been a half hour since then. there's music playing softly on the radio while you both lie on the floor. your fingers are covered in glue and she laughs every time you get paper stuck to you. 

the silence isn't awkward, it's calming. her occasional humming and laughs help ease the anxiety that you're laying face to face. there's only about eight inches between the two of you. 

when the beginning notes of 'girls on film' fill the room you involuntarily gasp. her eyes shoot up to watch you as you crank the knob to the right. 

she's still smiling, does she ever stop, you wonder, and she giggles as you start to dance. 

you have no idea where the confidence comes from, but you grab your hair brush and start singing. 

"see them walking hand in hand across the bridge at midnight!" you point at her while singing and she starts to dance, still laying on the floor. 

after a few lines, you hold your hand out to her. her eyes get wide before she takes it. 

"girls on film!" you shout, pulling her up. you toss your hair brush and grab her other hand. she's laughing and smiling as she sings and dances with you. 

when the song ends, you let go of her hands and she flops back on your bed. she doesn’t stop laughing though. you move to turn down the music and when you turn back she’s absentmindedly snickering at the ceiling. 

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a laugh of your own spilling out. 

“that was so fun.” she says breathlessly and you nod.

“oh yeah, nothing but fun in the henderson household.” she’s beaming at you, theres no possible way you can feel better than this. 

\\

eddie has a stupid smirk on his face as he watches you dreamily talk about chrissy. you’re sitting in the back of the lunch detention class; the teacher isn’t paying a single bit of attention. 

“y/n, doll, that all sounds great except one minor detail.” he cuts off your ranting and you raise your eyebrows at him. he gets a pitiful smile on his face before reaching to squeeze your hand. “her boyfriend picked her up, and the project is finished now.” damn.

you hadn’t thought of it like that. if there was no project to work, she had no reason to talk to you. why did we finish it all in one night? 

you’re about to say something back, probably something snotty, when you hear yelling from the hallway. he locks eyes with you and you both bolt up to follow the detention monitor into the hallway. 

“you don’t just get to break up with me!” jason is screaming. you can just barely see chrissy around him, her body is slumped in on itself and she’s got tear tracks down her face. 

“jason-” her voice comes out broken and quiet. a crowd has gathered, and staff isn’t even trying to stop it. 

“no, okay. i don’t know what idea you got in your head that made you think that was alright.” he’s reprimanding her like a dog, and your blood feels like it’s boiling beneath your skin. 

“i’m sorry.” she croaks out and he starts to laugh. 

“no, chrissy. you’re not sorry because you’re a slut.” he yells and your feet are moving before you can stop yourself. 

“nope.” eddie wraps both his arms around you and picks you up. “trust me, you don’t wanna do that.” he’s carrying you away down an empty hall. 

“yes i do!” you say angrily, trying to pry his arms off you. he sets you down and turns you to face him. when you go to walk back, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you. 

“y/n, hey. you will just make it worse for both of you.” he tries to dissuade you, and you know he’s right. 

“i can’t just leave her there.” your voice cracks and you’re close to tears. he looks at you sadly. 

“don’t, please don’t do this to yourself.” he trys meekly. you nod and he sighs in relief. “thank god.” he whispers and wraps his arms around you. 

//

she hadn’t been in history, but people had kept the whispering to a minimum. you had been uncomfortable, constantly worrying about her all afternoon. 

even now, you’re laying in bed on the brink of sleep. your thoughts or on her, your chest tight. there’s classical music playing softly from your record player by your fish tank and rain tapping on your window. 

dustin was at mikes to stay the night, like he always was on friday nights, and your mom was out of town visiting your aunt. 

that’s why you nearly shriek when something starts tapping on your window, louder than the rain. sun is down, but not so far that it’s dark outside. you’re shaking, your legs barely able to hold you up as you reach of the tapestry you use as a curtain. you hold your breath and pull the curtain back.

there’s chrissy, standing in the rain. she’s clearly disheveled, and her face is red and puffy like she just got done crying. you slide open the panes quickly, but she speaks before you can ask her why she’s there. 

“can i stay here for the night?” she asks. her voice is still soft, but it’s also cracked and gravely.  you don’t even answer, you just lean down and hold your arms out for her. she gives a small smile in relief, before jumping up and grabbing your shoulders. 

“watch your head.” you whisper softly in her ear as you pull her up through your window. 

when you set her down on your floor, your arms are still around her and her hands are still on your arms. 

“thanks you.” it comes out as a breath and you nod, staring down into her eyes. you have to force yourself to pull your ring clad hands from her waist and guide her to sit on your bed. 

she just sits there for a few minutes, staring down at your blankets. her hair is out of place, damp and hanging in her face. 

“god, did you walk here?” you ask observing her drenched figure. 

“i’m sorry for just barging in.” she sobs. she hides her face in her hands and you coo at her, pulling her into your arms. 

“it’s okay, i promise.” you speak as softly as possible, not wanting to scare her. “i’m gonna get you some dry clothes, okay.” you ask, and she just nods from her place in the crook of her neck. 

you get some of your comfy clothes, a baggy tee and sweatpants, and hand them to her. 

“i’ll wait out-” she cuts you off and grabs your hand to keep you from moving towards the door. 

“no-” she gasps. “please don’t leave me.” she pleads and you nod, not trusting yourself to speak. you turn and stare at the wall so that she can change. 

you can see her shadow on the wall as she pulls off her shirt; you snap your eyes shut quickly. don’t be a fucking creep, y/n. your palms are sweaty, and you dig your nails into them. 

“i’m done.” she mumbles, and you look back at her. your stomach drops when you see her in your baggy clothes. she just sits there, peering at you shyly while you gawk at her. 

“h-have you eaten dinner?” you ask, trying to be polite. she shakes her head no and you nod. “i’ll order pizza.” you suggest and she nods. you start to move out the door and she grabs your forearm, letting you guide her. 

“you can pick out a movie.” you murmur to her when you step into the livingroom. you point at a stack of tapes from the video store and she nods, letting go of your arm to look. 

you go in the kitchen and order pizza after checking to make sure your mom left you money. when you’re done, you turn to see her sitting on the couch. you squint and see that she put in bambi. you’re mom had suggested that you and dustin rent it for family movie night. 

“we have about a half hour.” you inform her, sitting down. she gives a small nod, eyes still glued to the screen in front of her. you finally lean your head back and try to relax. it’s only a few minutes, but it feels like hours before she speaks. 

“y/n?” she asks and you hum in response. she shifts her body towards yours. 

“what is it?” you ask, but she’s suddenly leaning forward. 

you almost can’t comprehend when her lips touch yours. you think you must be dreaming. you’re so stunned that you can’t even kiss back.

when she pulls her face away, her eyes are teary.

“that’s why i broke up with him.” she cries. “because when he picked me up all i wanted was to be back in your room because it’s quiet and dark and it smells really good and it’s not fucking pink and-” you cut her off by kissing her roughly, and you don’t stop. 

neither does she. 

when you softly bite her lower lip, she whines and you almost have to press your thighs together. she quickly puts her hands on your chest and straddles your thighs. 

“is this okay?” she implores and you start nodding rapidly. hell yes it is.

“yeah.” you say breathlessly, and your hands are shaking as you move them to her waist. she smirks and starts kissing you again. 

after a few more moments, her hips grind down onto you. the action causes her to gasp into your mouth. your fingers tighten, gripping her hips which are clad in your sweatpants. she repeats the action a few more times and you moan without receiving any stimulation. 

“are you sure you want this.” you ask, looking up at her. she reaches down for your hand, sliding it up her shirt and to her bra. it’s thin and you almost moan again when you feel her nipple through it. 

“i’m sure.” she promises, and you don’t hold back. you roughly squeeze her tit and start biting her neck. 

she threads her fingers through your hair and pulls you head back. you’re both breathless. she maintains a searing eye contact as she slowly pulls her (your) shirt off.  you can’t help yourself as you push her back to the couch, causing her to squeal as you climb over her. 

you continue to press little kisses to her chest as she gasps, bringing her legs to wrap around your hips. 

you pull your head up to observe the purple splotches you’ve left behind, when you notice a little brown spot under her bra strap. you move the strap and see that it’s a tiny heart shaped birthmark. her hand comes up to cradle your jaw, making you look at her. you grin.

“what?” she pants. you smirk, dipping your head back down and nipping at the soft flesh. 

you move back up, placing your face above her own. her big doe eyes stare up at you affectionately.

“let me take care of you, bambi.” 

#chrissy cunningham x reader #chrissy cunningham #stranger things 4 #henderson!reader #chrissy cunningham imagine #original fic #stranger things #eddie munson #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #grace van dien #chrissy cunningham x you #afab reader

[amysnotdeadyet]

It's a bleak winter, go read some fluffy mystery with a magical bird, a gay courtship, and a happy ending -- I put it on sale for 99¢ for US people for a week!

#my book #m/m romance #courtship romance #original fic #m/m book on sale

[crypt-tids]

A Gift Unto the King

24

Our Future

Snow tapped against the window glass. Candles lit the dark room with a warm, orange glow. Plush sheets wrapped Lucas’s body with gentle comfort.

His body ached, and he dared not move. Everything felt hazy. He was tired. Sweat glistened on his brow, his blouse soaked through. Exhausted. Horribly exhausted.

The walls were familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them. Stone and wood, covered with winter tapestries. The castle. Somewhere in the castle. The smell, sweet lavender and cedar. He knew it. Vin. Vin’s chambers.

The door creaked open, cautiously, drawing Lucas’s attention. A slender, dark haired man entered the room. He was holding something delicately in his arms, and as he turned towards Lucas, the warm glow of the candle light flickered across his face. A tear soaked grin, so loving and kind. Lucas glanced at the bundle in Vin’s arms.

Then he heard it. The soft cries of a newborn. His newborn.

“I think he’s hungry.” Vin spoke softly, carrying the bundle over to him.

“He?” Lucas squeaked, taking the baby into his arms.

His skin was rosy red through a lightly tanned complexion, and a few tufts of wispy, brown hair graced his head. He looked so much like Vin. Then, he opened his eyes. Shimmering gold, just like Lucas’s.

Tears welled in Lucas’s eyes as he held the newborn close. He peered up at Vin, a soft smile on his lips.

Lucas lightly stirred awake, Vin’s arm wrapped around his middle. He could hear the vampire’s rhythmic snores against his back, peaceful and deep. As much as he hated to slide away, his stomach churned uncomfortably, and bitter experience had taught him that waiting it out was never a viable option.

Sour saliva filled his mouth as he quickly shuffled out of bed, jogging to the door. He ripped the door open with only a few moments to spare as burning bile spewed from his mouth. He sputtered and choked, trying to catch his breath. Each heave brought more bitterness to his tongue. Finally, the churning of his stomach settled—even if still uneasy—and he stood, hunched over, catching his breath. A gentle hand rubbed his back.

“Are you okay?” Vin asked softly.

“Mm- yeah.” Lucas grunted, straightening up.

Vin held out a cup of water to Lucas, which he gladly took, swishing out his mouth with a large gulp.

“Everything hurts.” Lucas sighed.

“I know.” Vin wrapped his arms around the sore werewolf, nuzzling into his muscular back. “Do you want me to get the bath ready?”

“Yes, please. And a ginger tea.”

“Anything else, your highness?” Vin giggled.

“Don’t push it.” Lucas joked, placing his hands over Vin’s.

“You’ll have to get used to it, you know.”

“The hell I will.” Lucas shot back.

A muffled chuckle vibrated into the werewolf’s back, as Vin rubbed a gentle thumb over his belly. Then, Lucas remembered his dream. Hazy and blurred, but still strongly present in his mind.

“Vin?” Lucas started, his voice slightly unsure.

“What is it, love?” Vin slowly withdrew his arms, and Lucas turned to face him.

“Do you remember when I requested safe passage for the villagers of Oakhill to Tellima?”

“Of course.”

“And I asked you to trust me.”

“And I did.”

“I never told you why.” Lucas took Vin’s hand’s into his own, his eyes fixed on them.

“It was important to you, I never needed a reason.”

“But, there was one.” Lucas gnawed at his lip, drawing a deep inhale. “My family… we’re seers. Well, sort of. I mean, my niece is a true seer, really intuitive. I’m not as much, but still-” He felt himself rambling, and sighed, trying to redirect his thoughts. “I went to Oakhill because I had a dream. A nightmare, really. Er- a prophecy, I guess.”

“Do you have prophetic dreams often?”

Lucas shook his head.

“Only on the full moon. My abilities are too weak, otherwise. Honestly, I don’t recall ever even having one until I fell pregnant.”

Vin nodded, taking a moment to process it, then, with sharp realization, his eyes darted to Lucas’s face.

“Wait, did you have a dream last night?” His heart began to race as anxiety tingled throughout his body.

Lucas slowly lifted his gaze to meet Vin’s. He looked slightly unsure, but not frightened, and that small observation set Vin’s heart at ease.

“What was it?” Vin pressed, his hand softly caressing Lucas’s cheek. “What did you dream about?”

“It’s going to sound insane.” Lucas sighed through a half laugh. “I don’t really know how to explain it. It was all so… strange.”

“Strange?” Vin tucked a strand of disheveled hair behind the werewolf’s ear.

Lucas was quiet for a moment. Even in his mind, it felt difficult to believe, and part of him was reluctant to tell Vin, but he couldn’t keep it from him. He didn’t want to.

Gathering himself, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I saw them, Vin.” Lucas’s eyes flickered briefly, his face softening as he faded into the memory of his dream. “I… I held him.”

“Lucas, what are you talking about?” Vin’s brows creased, eyes furiously flitting across his features. Then, he felt Lucas tug his hand over to the rounded swell of his middle, pressing it firmly in place. His gaze darted between Lucas’s eyes and the bump between them.

A small smile pulled at the corners of Lucas’s lips.

“It was hazy, but… it felt so real.”

“Wait, Lucas,” Vin gulped, “are you telling me that you saw our baby?” His heart thumped heavily.

Lucas nodded, choking out a giddy laugh.

“I did.” He grinned. “And he was beautiful.”

“He?” Vin’s eyes widened.

Lucas nodded, golden eyes misting over, as Vin’s gaze dropped to the lycan’s belly. His hand fell from the werewolf’s cheek, brushing against his middle, and holding it firmly.

“A boy? Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be.” Lucas replied.

“A boy…” Vin whispered, his breath catching in his throat. “Our perfect little prince.”

Vin glanced up at Lucas, a radiant smile on his blushing face. He could hardly contain his excitement. With a wave of impulse, he wrapped his arms around Lucas’s neck, pulling him close.

“Ss- Ow, Vin.” Lucas hissed lightly, causing Vin to quickly withdraw.

“Sorry, sorry.” Vin apologized, wiping a dewy tear from his cheek. “I’ll make your tea and get your bath ready.”

“Thanks.” Lucas carefully straightened up, his body aching horribly.

“We should probably see Alistair, too.” Vin added, hustling inside towards the kitchen, Lucas tailing slowly behind.

“Why?” Lucas puzzled, lowering himself into the chair with a groan.

“Because you’re pregnant.”

“Mm- How could I forget?” Lucas gave his belly a playful pat, the baby stirring lightly beneath his touch.

“I just think it would be a good idea to make sure everything is alright.” Vin poured some fresh water into the pot to boil. “Maybe we can see if he has anything to help with the aches, while we’re there.”

“I’ll be fine, Vin. The pain will subside in a couple of days.” Lucas insisted.

Vin shot him a sideways glance, his face scrunched.

“What?”

“I thought maybe we could go before then.”

Lucas rolled his eyes and sighed.

“You wanted to go today, didn’t you?”

“Is that alright?” Vin asked timidly.

“That depends,” Lucas rested his cheek on his hand, giving the vampire a seductive glare, “what do I get in return?”

“Peace of mind?” Vin jokingly suggested.

“Wrong answer.” Lucas spoke through a crooked smile, his golden eyes glimmering in the sunlight.

“Hm…” Vin tapped his chin, walking over towards Lucas.

Bracing his hands against the arms of the chair, Vin leaned forward, inches away from the werewolf’s face. His crimson eyes scanned over Lucas, and he could hear the gentle thumping of his pounding heart. Steady and strong, beating with longing.

“I’m sure I can come up with something… But once I decide,” Vin smirked, “you’re mine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Lucas leaned forward slightly, his words brushing against Vin’s lips.

“Baby, that’s one promise I will always keep.” Vin pressed his lips to the waiting werewolf’s in a loving peck. Pulling away, he gave Lucas a warm smile. “I think your tea is ready.”

Lucas sat on the edge of the infirmary bed, his knee anxiously bouncing. Vin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Relax.” He whispered softly.

“Says the person that isn’t about to be poked and prodded.” Lucas grumbled.

“It’s just a bit of measuring, everything will be fine.” Vin pressed a comforting kiss to his head.

“Mm-” Lucas grunted in his throat.

Vin pulled away, sliding to Lucas’s front, and kneeling before him. Settling the lycan’s bouncing leg, he peered up into his shadowed eyes.

“Hey, everything is going to be okay, Lucas. I promise.”

“I know.” Lucas sighed. “I just…” He huffed through his nose. “Examinations make me nervous. And I know it’s stupid, it’s just… I never end up in the infirmary for anything good.”

“This is good, isn’t it?” Vin’s fingers brushed over Lucas’s belly.

“Of course it is.” Lucas interlaced his finger’s with Vin’s. “But that doesn’t make me less nervous.”

Vin shuffled the hair out of Lucas’s face, revealing his anxiously creased brows. He felt bad, but it was also a little cute seeing such a large, muscular man nervous about something so harmless.

“Nothing bad is going to happen today, and I’ll be here the whole time.” Vin assured.

Lucas took a deep breath and nodded.

“Apologies for the delay, your highness. Sir Lucas.” Alistair stepped into the infirmary, carrying a few pouches of fresh ginger tea.

Vin quickly rose to his feet, directing his attention towards the healer.

“Angelique has been working diligently to refill our tea stores. Unfortunately, the queen’s morning sickness has been quite the uphill battle.” Alistair sighed defeatedly, placing the pouches on the table.

Lucas saw Vin visibly tense at the mention of Carmilla’s illness.

“Has there been no improvement?” Vin asked.

“I’m afraid not. Even the blood isn’t helping as much as we’d hoped. Angelique has been trying to find some more effective herb mixes, but so far, no luck.” Alistair rinsed his hands in the wash basin, drying them on a clean rag. “Best I’ve been able to manage is a mild transference spell to lessen her symptoms long enough to get some food down. The only downside is that it’s temporary, and makes me unbearably ill in her stead.”

“I’m sorry for that.” Vin’s voice lowered as shame tugged at his heart.

“Please, your highness, don’t be. I’m a healer. It’s my job to help people in any way that I can.” Alistair gave a reassuring smile as he approached the bed, a small ball of twine in his hand. “Besides, Angelique has been kind enough to fill in for me occasionally, and it really is only temporary, so there’s no real harm done.” He turned to the lycan. “Lay back against the pillows, please, Sir Lucas.”

Lucas did as he was instructed, fidgeting with the fluffy down pillows for a moment until he found a comfortable position. His heart was beginning to race, and he tried to focus on his breathing to soothe himself.

“Please keep me informed on Carmilla’s condition. I will do whatever I can to help.” Vin spoke firmly.

“As you wish.” Alistair replied, unwinding a bit of string. “Please lift your shirt, Sir Lucas.”

With a second’s hesitation, and a hard gulp, Lucas slid his blouse up to his chest, leaving his belly bare and exposed. He’d come to the quick realization that he didn’t much care for anyone looking at it in this state other than Vin. But he swallowed his discomfort, and allowed Alistair to proceed.

The healer gave it a quick inspection, palpating it gently, his face stoic. Once satisfied, he took out the unwound string, holding one end at the base of his belly, and trailing it across his navel, towards the fundus of his uterus. Marking the two points on the string with his fingers, Alistair walked over to the table and lined it up against the ell-wand.

“Have you noticed any odd sensations, ailments, thoughts, or cravings lately?” Alistair asked, taking down notes on a small piece of parchment.

“Aside from a tiny human wiggling around inside of me?” Lucas joked, attempting to ease his anxiety. “Not anything unusual. I mostly only feel ill around my moon cycles, and well…” he blushed at the thought of it, “I suppose my appetite has increased a bit.”

“That’s an understatement.” Vin quietly jested, earning a stern glare from his lover.

“That’s all fairly normal, I’d say. Especially for werewolves.” Alistair turned to face the couple. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t gained more weight. I do expect that to change as your pregnancy progresses, however, now that your morning sickness has passed and your nausea seems to be less frequent. That said,” he bobbed his head to the side, “your measurements were towards the larger side.”

“I figured as much.” Lucas stated, feeling Vin’s fingers slip into his hand.

“I assume you are experiencing regular fetal movement.”

“Everyday.” Lucas agreed.

“Then, everything seems to be going alright for now. We’ll keep an eye on your measurements. I’m not worried about them, they’re within the normal range for werewolves, however, depending on how quickly the baby grows, we may have to settle on a birth plan earlier rather than later.” Alistair stated matter-of-factly.

“Do you think he’ll go into labor early?” Vin asked, squeezing Lucas’s hand.

Lucas glanced up at the vampire, his face firmly set as he awaited Alistair’s reply.

“I can’t say for sure, there is still a ways to go, yet. But, it is a possibility we should take into consideration.”

Lucas tensed, his free hand now cupping the top of the swell. He hadn’t considered the possibility of the baby arriving early. How early was early? It was definitely snowing in his dream, but that didn’t mean anything. Winter’s were typically quite white throughout, the first snow of the year regularly falling by late autumn. That would settle him anywhere in the span of seven months to full term, if his math was right. Gods, why hadn’t his dream been more specific?!

“Lucas?”

“Huh?” The lycan grunted, snapping out of his daze.

“Are you alright?” Vin asked, his brows creasing with worry.

“Mm.” Lucas nodded. “I’m fine.”

Vin pressed his lips together, noting that whatever it was that had caused Lucas to drift was still very heavy on his mind, and he would certainly make it a point to ask about it later. For now, he would leave it be, sensing that whatever it was that was bothering him was something he didn’t wish to discuss with Alistair present.

“Would you like me to do an energy reading?” The healer asked.

Lucas’s eyes darted to Vin’s, seemingly unsure. Vin gave him a soft smile in return.

“It’s up to you. You’ve humored me enough for today, this choice is yours.”

Lucas gulped, gnawing at his bottom lip—by this point, it had been nibbled raw. He took a moment, glancing down at his rounded middle, then drew a deep breath.

“Okay.” He replied softly, his voice no stronger than a mouse’s.

Alistair nodded, making his way over to the cabinet. He returned with a small, leather pouch in his hands, and carefully, he untied the drawstring, removing a delicate, crystal pendulum. It glittered in the golden afternoon light, the very sight of it making Lucas’s heart thump.

He was nervous. Why was he nervous? He’d had a dream about him. A full moon dream. Certainly, there was no reason to be nervous, the baby would be perfectly fine. For gods’ sake, he saw him! He’d held him!

But, what if the dream had been wrong? What if it wasn’t a prophecy at all, and simply just wishful thinking? No, it couldn’t be that, it felt far too real to be as meaningless as that. Still, the anxiety remained.

Alistair dangled the crystal a few inches above his navel, and within seconds, it began to swing. Small circles, at first, then quickening into larger ones, strong and bold. Lucas’s eyes danced between the pendulum and the healer, trying to get a read on what he was thinking. After a few moments, Alistair stopped the pendulum, and smiled kindly, setting the lycan slightly more at ease.

“Nice and strong, just as I expected.” Alistair placed the pendulum back in its pouch. “You can sit up now, if you like.”

Lucas sighed with relief, hastily tugging his shirt over his belly, and stiffly pushing himself up from the pillows. Vin gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“I’d like to see you again in a few weeks.” Alistair stated directly. “And this,” he held out a small, ceramic jar, “should help with the muscle aches.”

“Thank you.” Lucas graciously accepted the container. Gripping Vin’s hand, he allowed the vampire to help him to his feet.

“Feel free to come to me for anything you need. My door is always open.” Alistair bowed his head slightly.

Vin nodded, placing a gentle hand on the small of Lucas’s back, giving him a warm smile, before leading him out of the infirmary.

Once in the safety of the corridor, Lucas released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his body finally relaxing. A few silent steps down the hall, Lucas felt Vin firmly grip his arm, spinning him around, and pinning him to the cool, stone wall. Soft lips passionately pressed against his, making his heart flutter.

“Thank you, Lucas.” Vin whispered, pulling away. “Let’s go home.”

Lucas tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor, as he slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. The bed frame creaked beneath his weight, further protesting as Vin climbed up behind him.

Shuffling onto his knees, Vin removed the lid from the ceramic jar, immediately hitting the pair with the potent aroma of eucalyptus, ginger, and spice. Plunging his fingers into the container, he scooped out a handful of cream, rubbing it between his palms, before pressing it onto Lucas’s bare skin.

Lucas shuddered at the initial coolness, relaxing into it as it warmed. Vin’s fingers worked over his tense muscles, and Lucas closed his eyes, letting out a small moan.

“That feels amazing.” Lucas bobbed his head.

“Good.” Vin’s hands trailed down his back, his thumbs massaging it deeply.

“Mm-” Lucas grunted, as the vampire applied pressure to an especially sore muscle.

“Sorry.” Vin whispered, lightening his tension, and sliding his hands up towards the lycan’s broad shoulders. Taking another scoop of cream, he rubbed Lucas’s arms until they were sufficiently covered. “I think I got everything I can get from here. Do you want to lay down?”

Lucas nodded, roughly shuffling his legs onto the bed, and scooting towards the headboard. Vin stacked both pillows, giving them a few rough fluffs, to give Lucas some extra plush padding to lean against.

As Lucas settled in, Vin positioned himself between his legs, giving his thighs a gentle squeeze.

“Pants.” Vin stated directly.

“You know how to take them off.” Lucas rolled his eyes with a playful smirk.

“Must I do everything?” Vin joked back.

“Hey, if you wanted an easy ride, you shouldn’t have done this to me.” Lucas exaggeratedly patted his rounded belly.

Vin snickered lightly and smiled, gently placing his hands against Lucas’s middle, before bending down to press a soft kiss to it. Pulling away, he leaned towards the lycan, their bellies brushing against each other’s.

“What fun is an easy ride, anyway?” Vin spoke, his words drifting over the werewolf’s parted lips.

“No fun at all.” Lucas whispered in return, their lips meeting passionately.

Vin slowly withdrew.

“Careful, Lucas,” Vin spoke lightly, with a smirk, “I don’t think you’re in any condition for this.”

“I suppose not.” Lucas pouted.

Vin nuzzled their noses together, Lucas scrunching his with a giggle.

“Let me take care of you, tonight, hm?” Vin pushed himself back, retreating to his knees, his fingers fumbling over the laces of Lucas’s trousers.

Lucas shuffled, lifting his hips slightly to allow the pants to slide off freely. A firm ache plunged into his lower back as he settled back onto the bed with a sharp hiss. Vin winced. Tossing Lucas’s pants aside, the vampire dipped his hand into the ceramic vessel, scooping out a handful of cream, warming it in his hands, and rubbing it onto Lucas’s calves, working his way up towards his thick thighs. Gently, he massaged the lycan’s tense muscles, his body relaxing beneath Vin’s careful touch. Inching towards Lucas’s hips, Vin’s thumbs rubbed smooth circles into the dips, traveling slowly towards his abdomen.

He started with the sides of Lucas’s waist, sweeping up and down with firm strokes. Then, the pressure eased as his hands wandered towards the swell. Warming more cream in his palms, he gently massaged it over Lucas’s taut belly. The faint stretch marks shimmered light pink, velvet soft under his fingers.

“You’re beautiful.” Vin whispered unconsciously, blushing violently as he caught himself.

“I don’t know about all that.” Lucas giggled, his belly bouncing under Vin’s hands.

“Well, I do.” Vin said with a loving smile, his face still flushed brilliant red.

“Compliment me anymore, and you’re gonna have to do something about it.” The lycan smirked.

“Well, I best keep my thoughts to myself then, lest I must pleasure you in such a delicate state.” Vin’s hands slid towards Lucas’s chest, rubbing his thumbs over his plush breasts. “It would be such a travesty if you were in too much pain to enjoy it.” Delicately, he met their lips, sweet and soft, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of Lucas’s mouth.

“Fair enough.” Lucas whispered.

Vin happily returned to his task, massaging every inch of Lucas’s sore, aching body with cream, peppering soft kisses over him—sweet and tender. Goose bumps danced over Lucas’s skin as Vin’s hands and lips brushed against him.

Finally, as the aches and pains began to subside—for the moment, at least—the lycan grabbed Vin’s hand, his fingers tracing the neckline of the vampire’s blouse.

“Feeling better?” Vin asked softly.

Lucas nodded, lightly gnawing at his bottom lip. Slowly, his hand slid towards the bottom hem of the shirt, shuffling it upwards. Quickly, Vin’s hand snapped to his, holding it in place.

“Lucas,” he sighed, “we can’t. Not tonight.” His tone was somber and firm.

“I know.” Lucas pressed his lips together in a crooked frown. “I just… would it be alright if we just laid together?” His golden eyes sparkled with longing. “Bare, I mean.”

Vin’s face softened, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

“Of course.” The vampire loosened his grip on Lucas’s hand, allowing him to slide the shirt up, tugging it over his head and tossing it aside. Fiddling with the laces of his pants, he shoved them over his hips, dropping them to the floor.

With a wiggle and a shuffle, he set the nearly empty ceramic jar aside, lowering himself onto the bed beside his lover. Lucas turned onto his side, sliding his leg over Vin’s, nestling it securely between his thighs. Grabbing his hand, and interlacing their fingers, he placed a soft kiss to the king’s knuckles with a gentle smile. Vin pressed his body against Lucas’s, the soft warmth pooling between them, comfortable and safe.

Wrapping his arm around the werewolf, Vin pulled him closer, nuzzling into his neck, breathing in the sweet aroma of his lover’s scent. There they stayed, firmly wrapped around each other, their nude forms fitting together like a perfect puzzle, for the rest of the night.

#mpreg #tum kink #artist #male pregnancy #werewolf #vampire #agutk #a gift unto the king #vomit mention #nudity #original fic #writing #knightau

[ishipallthings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Queen With Evil Reputation But A Secretly Kind Heart/Her Arranged Marriage Bride Characters: Queen With Evil Reputation But A Secretly Kind Heart, Arranged Marriage Bride, Princess Beatrice of Trelonia - Character, Queen Alice of Charenth - Character Additional Tags: Magic, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Weddings, Secrets, Trust Issues, Falling In Love, Pining, Protectiveness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Trick or Treat: Treat Summary:

When all the preparations were completed at last, Beatrice took a few minutes to study her reflection in the full-length mirror of her dressing room. The paleness of her face was disguised with rouge, her mouth painted with lipstick, and a glittering tiara crowned the complicated hairstyle that the royal dresser had finally decided on for the wedding ceremony last week. Her dress was unquestionably breathtaking, a floor-length ivory gown made from Trelonia’s highest quality silk, the bodice boasting an intricate beading design that must have taken months to put together.

Beatrice looked in the mirror and saw a stranger.

Written for Trick or Treat 2023!

#original work #original fic #my writing #my fic #fantasy #pining #arranged marriage #trick or treat exchange

[barbiewritesstuff]

Secret Girlfriend

-- Just a cute little thing about how the team finds out that Hangman has a girlfriend. It started out as a bullet point headcanon list but I decided to make them little blurbs instead.

Taglist:@mavswife @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1999 --

Coyote finds out when he finds her asleep on his best friend. Her head gently rising as he breathes, his hand tracing her facial features. Jake’s listening to music on his headphones, and he doesn’t know anyone’s watching. 

Javi feels a little funny, like he’s not supposed to be seeing this and he needs to leave but he can’t deny it’s really sweet to see Jake like that, especially when Hangman coughs and she stirs and he spends the next minute coaxing her back to sleep. 

From the darkness he can even see Jake’s smile when his girl nuzzles her face in his sweater as she dozes off. 

Bob figures it out when he accidentally steps into the wrong hangar. He’s not fully awake yet and he ran out of the house too late to get some coffee in his system. His eyes are still a little blurry from the night and his brain is groggy but he swears he can see a picture on Jake’s dashboard. He knows he’s not supposed to look, especially since it’s not a crime for him to have a picture, it’s just out of character.

 Bob climbs up the ladder and sneaks a peak. He’s half expecting a picture of Jake himself to stare back but it’s a girl in a cheerleading uniform kissing a quarterback. It takes a second for his eyes to spot the name on the back of the footballer’s uniform. Seresin. They look young but Bob figures Jake wouldn’t be carrying it around if they weren’t still dating. 

He leaves when he hears footsteps in the corridor, careful to place the photograph back where he found it.

Fanboy meets her during family day. She’s about his height, his age and she’s gorgeous. 

“Can I help you?” He asks. Maybe he can shoot his shot at a date, it’s been a while and he’s out of practice but hey, he can always try.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend” Her voice is nice, soft, shy but it doesn’t dampen the disappointment.

“What’s his name?”

“Jake Seresin?”

Oh. At first he thinks the poor girl missed the fact that Hangman’s not the girlfriend type, but then her phone rings and he can hear Jake’s voice through the receiver.  Fanboy makes his exit before Hangman arrives. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see him, but he figures that if Jake goes through such lengths to keep his relationship private, he probably doesn’t want Fanboy sticking around. 

Harvard, Yale and Halo see him waiting inside of a coffee shop. He’s on his phone and they debate going in to say hi, but before they finish that thought a woman sits down in front of him with a coffee and Hangman smiles so genuinely and so happily that there’s really no mistaking who she is to him. 

She takes a sip, some of her hair dips into the foam and sticks to her lip. Jake leans forward and brushes it aside, he’s so distracted he knocks his coffee over and they scramble to move everything away from the spreading liquid, then, they look at each other and laugh.

Omaha finds out because he knows her. 

His girlfriend has invited a few people over for dinner and they’re bringing partners. She walks in first, a bouquet of bright pink roses and a bottle of wine in her hand for the hosts and he follows suit. It takes a second for Jake to notice Neil just sitting there on the couch, staring at him with eyes as wide as plates, but when he does, he shoots him a look saying “We will never speak of this again”. 

Omaha doesn’t. He sees Jake relax around his girl. He sees him being nice, funny and caring and Neil figures she’s good for him, so why ruin it by telling.

Rooster finds out when he pulls up to Jake’s house one day after training to bring back the jacket he forgot. He rings the doorbell and a woman answers. She’s wearing a shirt too big to belong to her and some bike shorts barely sticking out of the bottom. 

“Hi” She says, clearly confused. Rooster lets out a nervous cough

“I need to return something to Jake”

“Why don’t you come in?”

She turns around and leads him up the stairs to a living room and a kitchen. There’s pictures on the walls, one of those scratch-off maps of the world. There are pizza boxes on the kitchen table and Rooster recognises Jake’s usual order. 

Hangman saunters in a few minutes later with a can of something and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

Rooster just hands him the jacket and leaves. 

Phoenix finds out last, when she and the team step out of the carrier after a mission. They’re just chatting when suddenly a dog beelines for the group. A woman runs after the pet, trying to catch it before it jumps and Hangman falls to the floor with a loud “THUD”. The dog circles him a few times, licking every inch of his person. He curls up on the floor, giggling.

“I’m so sorry! I swear I was holding her, the lead snapped and --” She grabs the dog by the collar and moves her away Jake. He stands up and smiles. 

Then, suddenly remembering where he is when his girl's eyes glance away from him and towards the team, Jake jumps back into reality.

“Err -- this is my girlfriend. Honey this is the team”

“Hi” The woman waves

Everybody but Nat looks at one another and simultaneously decides to act surprised, largely to soften the blow for Phoenix, as she usually prides herself on her detective skills. The team’s not so sure she could take the hit.

Phoenix is almost mad. She would like to be mad, but as she looks at Hangman she recognises the way her dad looks at her mom even after thirty years of marriage and three kids. 

She sees the look she has judged relationships by: “if he doesn’t look at me like that, then I’m wasting my time”. Phoenix can recognise pure, unadulterated True Love when she sees it. 

And she understands him then, because if she was to find her own True Love, she might not want to share them either.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #original fic #jake seresin #hangman top gun

[2kmps]

sleep paralysis demon x reader | 1k

synopsis;; you're starting to notice something strange in the corner of your bedroom whenever your husband makes love to you.

warnings;; oc husband, mentions of migraine w/ aura, pwp, mc gets ate out, no pronouns used, implications mc likes voyeurism, mc gettin' hot over a monster, not proofread. mdni

"not tonight. I think I have a migraine coming on."

the loving man in your neck let out a breath, with it his disappointment and a hot, moist film on your skin. he behaved without pushing things further, though he remained between the spread of your thighs, weight of his chest pinning yours down, lips still eagerly setting course across the expanse of your neck and throat to a destination you didn't pay much mind to.

every bit of your attention settled towards the corner of your bedroom, one that didn't exist in your husband's eyes—probably wouldn't have known it was there unless you asked him to shove furniture in it. somehow, as many times as you'd asked him to put a little corner table or decoration there to liven the drab space, it always ended up bare by the end of the week.

"you sure?" the loving husband was under your jaw now, lips always warm and caressing in these moments, just like the hands under your shirt. "it might take your mind off of it for it while, y'know? want me to take your pants off?"

your eyes never left that corner when your vision exploded into a kaleidescope; geometric shapes fading in and out of sight, sickle-shaped prisms curling along your outer peripheral in your left eyes and beyond it—nothingness. it was hard to describe what an aura was like to your husband when he had asked once.

"it's like staring at a light for too long. you know how you just get the flashes of light, but they don't really have any shape?" you held a coffee mug to your lips, tones of your voice still steeped in grogginess.

"yeah?" his voice wasn't much better, sounded like a bunch of tumbling rocks in his throat. "I try to make it a point not to stare at lights too much, hon'."

you were trying to recount the migraine aura, but only ended up thinking about that desolate, strange corner in your bedroom. even when the loving man turned all lights low, eclipsing everything else in the room with his body and he was panting in your ear while your nails clung into his back, you were looking towards that corner hoping for the aura to come back.

for that thing to come back.

it only ever appeared in that one spot—the boring, empty corner with paper-thin, peeling paint that never committed to sticking to the wall for very long. it only showed itself when your loving husband was plowing in you, moaning in your head, whispering some lewd nonsense that got him off so he could watch the traces of himself seep out of your body.

the thing only ever appeared in stutters, like a shadow after a flicker of light, during an aura where you were vaguely aware of a dull ache beginning to form between your eyes.

it looked like a man but you didn't know if it was. you saw it between every glimmer of bright light, sometimes sitting on the fringes of the blinding, curved prism in your left eye—the one that went dark for a few minutes.

"just lay there and cover your eyes if it's too bright." your pants were shucked away, his unsteady breaths and tongue starting a rhythm that you followed with your hips.

your eyes stayed on the corner, unblinking and growing sore from how long you stared until the thing finally appeared behind a particularly bright flicker of light. there was no face or feature for you to focus on, only a hazy silhouette darker than everything else in the bedroom.

it never moved, shifted, or stirred from that one spot but that made it easier for you to focus on as your loving husband dragged his tongue on you in languid strokes. he grunted with your hands now in his hair, mouth spread wide on you.

you wondered if that thing could as well, if it could more than your husband was capable of. could it surround you with a lithe, narrow tongue or split you wide with the girth of its cock? get deeper than your husband ever could? leave you feeling full and hot in a way that just wasn't possible for a regular man?

"c'mon, baby, cum for me." he was devoted to one spot on you now, having felt you flinch and squeeze around his head. you heaved the longer he stayed there, fingers weakening against his scalp to grope futilely around the bed for something else to grab. "c'mon, almost there."

you thought the thing moved away from the corner towards you somewhat, head a slight slant and directly behind one of the searing flares in your eyes.

"oh, fuck—" you wondered if it liked the show, bunching your shirt to your chin to give it a view of all your nudity. something about being watched by the thing was invigorating, a thrill you had never experienced in the bedroom with your husband.

your sweet, wonderful husband let you ride his face through your orgasm, spurred on by your moans climbing in pitch, a gorgeous crescendo tailed by a longer whine eventually dissipating as you rode that pleasurable wave until the end.

you weren't surprised to see the thing in the corner had gone again, back to wherever it had come from in the first place. again, you were reminded of the chipping paint and expanse of nothing where your gaze lingered.

"feeling any better?" your doting, kind husband asked after placing a kiss to your shoulder and then your cheek. "I can do it again if you want me to."

the prisms in your eyes were gone and the bedroom was immersed in dim light. again, your husband's weight pressed you down into the mattress while his lips mapped you out.

"hm, I was actually thinking we should repaint that one corner blue or green."

a/n; I was bored and realized I haven't written or published anything in a while so here you go. if you enjoyed it pls be kind and comment and reblog!!! 🖤

this may or may not also be the sleep paralysis demon from an upcoming one-shot I plan to do this year,

#monster fiction #monster fic #monster x human #monster fucker #monster story #monster #monster x you #monster x reader #monster x y/n #monsterfucking nsft #tw monsterfucking #oc x reader #oc x you #original fic #original fiction #dark fic #2k writes

[thefreakymunson]

Exact Copy

Summary: Eddie Munson went missing nearly ten years ago, living a a young Y/N to fend for herself. But sometimes, just sometimes, wrongs can get put right. T/W: Death, murder, angst. A/N: This is my version of a fixit fic. I hope you enjoy.

Hawkins, Indianna 1996.

You were standing at the ten year Hawkin’s high school reunion. It’s crazy how much everyone had changed over the last decade. So many of your friends had families now, children of their own, and careers you could’ve only dreamed for. They got out of this town. They got out and stayed out. They only came back to visit family and then they got to leave. Not you.

You never got over his death. You never got over the hurt and anger. How could he put himself in that position and leave you here all alone? Eddie was your everything. Everyone in town knew it and everyone in town shunned you after he was named a suspect. But that was ten years ago and no one remembered him now. They remembered Chrissy, Patrick, and Jason. But Eddie “The Freak” Munson was a name that the town kept hush-hush about.

You weren’t allowed to talk about him. You were shunned by your friends. The therapist told you that you just needed to move on – forget about him, that there would be other guys for you. As if you could just forget about the love of your life. As if you could forget the memories you shared. As if you could forget how good it felt to be loved by him. As if the ten year old boy at home didn’t remind you every day of him.

He never got to find out he had gotten you pregnant, that you gave birth to a son you named Ozzy that looked identical to him more and more every day. His long shaggy black hair and the same wide smile as his fathers. He was the spitting image of Eddie Munson.

You weren’t even sure what lead you to coming here tonight. It wasn’t as if you were going to bump into him. It was just a reminder of how hard your life had suffered. Classmates who were rich and successful, married, living happy lives. And you were still hung up on the guy who the town deemed a murderer ten years – a decade ago.

Tonight you’d hopefully change that. It was time to move on for your sanity. You deserved to be happy, too. Eddie would’ve wanted that. Tonight you were able to fully say your goodbyes to the man you loved and longed after for so many years.

You made your way out past the football field, through the overgrown brush, and back to where you had walked so many times before to meet him during lunch or your free period. So many conversations you had here. This was where your first kiss was the day that your ex boyfriend broke your heart. This was where he got you high for the first time. And your favorite memory - this was where he told you he loved you for the first time as well. So many memories in this small secluded spot that for three years belonged to just you and Eddie. No one else.

“Y/N” you heard his voice, like a ghost coming from the darkness of the surrounding trees. Tears filled your eyes. It wasn’t a new thing. You had heard him every once in awhile for the last ten years, especially when you missed him. In the dark nights, in the sunny warm mornings – when you were curled up with his vest he used to wear. You kept it in a bag to keep the scent of him on it, only bringing it out when the ache in your chest got too bad just to give yourself a reminder that he was real and he loved you – he existed no matter how many people wanted to forget about him.

“I miss you,” you said, voice quivering as you sat down at your picnic table, “I miss everything about you. This...this town has moved on...and for the most part, they’ve forgotten all about Chrissy and everyone else. Forgotten about you...but I can’t. I never could, Eds.”

“Y/N,” you heard his voice so clearly this time.

A small smile spread across your face as you remembered the way he used to playfully dance around to make you smile if you were having a bad day. He was the goofiest person you knew and he never failed to make you smile even on the worst of days.

“I miss your laugh,” you said, “And the way you smelled. I still miss those nights we’d spend on top of your trailer...two stupid kids, ya know? Getting high as shit. We’d get in trouble for being too loud all the time...we never listened.”

“Y/N, look at me.” His voice came again from behind you.

“You’re not real,” you whispered quietly, tears filling your eyes, “I’ve heard your voice so many times and every time I look, you’re not there. You haven’t been here for ten years, Eddie. I keep hearing your voice and seeing you in everything. You’re everywhere even still. I’ve gotta move on, Eds. I can’t live another ten years like this. My heart feels so empty every day that I don’t have you here. The hurt is the same every fucking day.”

A hand reached out and grabbed your arm gently, making you gasp. A hand – a warm hand with three silver rings: a cross with four skulls, a pig head, and a skull. They weren’t as crisp as they used to be, obviously a little worn down now. The voice had obviously never touched you. You turned around to see him – your Eddie standing there. Except he didn’t look the same.

His hair was cropped short and slicked back. He had facial hair now. He looked older and mature, almost as if he was a completely different person now. But you knew by those eyes – those big brown warm eyes, this was your Eddie.

“You’re not real, Eddie.” You said, voice trembling as you stared into those big brown eyes for the first time in a decade. You felt your knees almost give out from underneath you as you stumbled back and away from him,“You can’t be real. You – you died, Eddie.”

“No,” Eddie whispered, “It’s too complicated to talk about right now. I’m not even supposed to be here. I just...I knew you would be here. I knew you would be out here in our spot...well, I had a feeling at least. I’m staying in the hotel just out past route 8. Room 4. Will you meet me there?”

You stood there dumbfounded as tears streamed down your face. Panic rose in your throat as you struggled to breathe. Was this a joke? How could someone do this? Didn’t they know you loved this man with everything in you? And you never got over him?

“Eddie-” You were cut off by the sound of a few footsteps and laughter, a passing couple walking through the woods for whatever reason.

“Meet me there, okay? I can’t risk being seen.” His voice was frantic.

And just as soon as he was there touching you, he was gone again back into the vast darkness. Route 8 hotel, room 4. Route 8 hotel, room 4. Route 8 hotel, room 4. You must’ve repeated it a thousand times as you rushed back to your car, fumbling with the keys to unlock the door. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach as you sped out of the schools parking lot, like this was a dream or a prank. But it couldn’t have been – no one could be this cruel, could they?

You knocked on the door, hands moving rapidly. There was no way this was real. This was just another delusion. But when the door opened, there he stood again. You rushed inside the door and wrapped your arms around him so tightly, sobs wrecking your body. He was real. You could touch him – you could see him and smell him. He was there in front of you for the first time in a decade.

“Oh my god,” you cried, pressing your face into his chest.

“I know, I know.” Eddie said, his hand cradling the back of your head as you sobbed, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

You leaned back from him, your reddened tear streaked face a sight for sore eyes as you shook your head in disbelief, “How, Eddie? Where were you? What hap-”

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, soothing your hair back from your wet cheeks, “I know you’ve got questions. But you have to calm down first, okay? You’re going to have an asthma attack.”

After all these years, he still remembered your horrible asthma. You couldn’t stop yourself as you stood up on your tip toes and kissed him. His hands came up to cup your face, tears of his own mixing with yours. He tasted exactly how you remembered – how you craved. Your thumbs stroked his cheeks, his beard tickling your fingers.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, unable to say anything else.

“I know,” he whispered, “Uncle Wayne told me you still come to visit him sometimes. I missed you so much, Y/N...I’ve wanted to contact you, tell you what happened to me-”

“Wayne knew?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah.” Eddie whispered, “I had to swear him to secrecy. He hated having to lie to you as much as I did, princess.”

There it was. Princess. The word made you melt inside all over again, still having the same effect it did a decade ago.

You stepped back, holding him out at arms length to get a good look at him. He still looked the same except for his shorter hair and beard. He looked like the love of your life, just aged a few years. The beard looked great on him, and his short hair brought out his curls. He looked amazing.

“Can’t believe your eyes, huh?” He asked, smile lighting up his face the exact same way it used to.

“I can’t,” you smiled through your tears, “I really can’t, Eddie. You look….”

“Different?” He snorted, “Yeah...well...had to change to protect myself.”

“Where were you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded to the bed, “Wanna sit down while we talk?”

“I’m going to stand,” you said softly, letting go of his arms, “Keeps me preoccupied.”

“Understandable,” he nodded, but flopped down on the edge of the bed. He was quiet for a moment as he looked around the room and sighed softly, “Okay. Well. I guess...where do you want me to start?”

“From the beginning,” you nodded, “After...ya’know, Chrissy.”

He nodded and bounced his knee as he fiddled with the rings – just like he used to do when he got nervous.

“I didn’t murder her. And I didn’t murder anyone else. I wished they would’ve listened to me and relocated you-”

“Relocated me?”

“I’ve been living in a place called Lenora. It’s in California.” He sighed, “There was...there was no other way to go about it, though. If we suddenly both disappeared...they would’ve tried to pin another murder on me.” He looked up at you, “A new identity...a new name...new life. Alexander Simpson.”

He looked up at you as if he was waiting for another question, but when you were silent, he continued on:

“You know, I...begged them to let me bring you with me. But they said it was a safety risk. I’ve tried to contact you over the years but they always intercepted it. The risk is finally low enough now, ya know, it’s been ten years. Everyone’s sort of forgotten about it.”

“If you didn’t kill her – and I know you didn’t. I’m not saying that I believed what they said. I just...what actually happened, Eddie? I seen her body...how was that possible?”

He took a shaky breath in as he looked up at you, and then right past your head. His eyes held a painful look as he chewed on his bottom lip as if he was hesitant to speak about it. A hand came up to scrub over his tired face before he spoke.

“Hawkins isn’t safe, Y/N. Apparently, it’s never been a safe place. There’s an alternate reality...dimension, if you will, and these...monsters from the other realm...they can attack us. They can step through the barriers...and that’s what happened to Chrissy. And that’s what happened to Patrick. I don’t know how, or why or if it because I was near them when it happened and that fuckwad Jason...I got the blame. I know it sounds insane, princess. But there are people that can confirm. Even Henderson will tell you.”

“He said he watched you die,” you said, unshed tears welling up in your eyes, “He said he held you while you passed away and that they left your body in the woods because you didn’t want to be brought back.”

“I did get seriously hurt,” he nodded, “And I’ve got the scars to prove it. But Henderson was there when I got attacked-”

“Attacked?”

“Demobats,” he nodded, “Or that’s what the others called it.”

“What others?”

“Harrington, Nancy, Henderson, Robin…”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. They knew. They all knew he was alive for these past years and they lied to you. People you considered friends, who helped you raise your son along the years – they knew. They fucking knew.

“Do you know...about him?” you asked, shifting your weight to your other foot.

“About who?”

“Ozzy.” You felt your stomach turn.

He was silent for a few minutes before he looked up at you and mumbled, “Osbourne?”

“No,” you laughed softly, “You...we have a son.”

The news seemed to shock him as he looked up at you with wide brown eyes. He was quiet, too stunned to speak or even move.

“A son?” He muttered a few moments later.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “He’s turning ten in a month. He’s – he’s quite the character. Just like you.”

“Jesus,” Eddie said, standing up from the bed, a hand clamped around his mouth, unshed tears in his eyes. “Is he...is he okay, Y/N? Is he safe?”

“He’s perfect,” you smiled, “He’s what kept me going all these years...when you died, I thought that was it for me. And then the morning sickness started. And before I knew it, he was here.”

He bent over, hands on his knees as he looked up at you, and you knew the thought that was running through his mind. ------- “When I finally graduate,” Eddie smirked – it was a inside joke between the two of you, as he walked out of his bedroom, “How cool would it be to get married and start popping out babies?”

“We’re still young to be having babies,” you laughed, legs resting on the arm of the couch, “I’d marry you tomorrow though.”

“You’d marry me tomorrow?” He smiled down at you as he walked closer.

“Edward Munson, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.” You said, watching as he got down on one knee – what the fuck was he doing?

He fished inside his back pocket and pulled out a small ring box, opening it to reveal a small and simple diamond ring.

“Tomorrow then, yeah?” He smirked, brown eyes smiling as much as his lips were. ------

“I still have it, you know? My ring.” You pulled the necklace out of your shirt, revealing the engagement ring dangling from your neck.

He walked over to you, picking the ring up from your chest as he stared down at you. You should’ve been mad, maybe, or devastated. But he was there in front of you, looking down at you with so much...love? In his eyes. It made you weak all over again.

He pressed his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes, letting the ring fall back to your chest. His hands came up to grasp either side of your face as if you were going to fade away. It was insane how much he felt the same – his presence calming and welcoming you.

“Come to Lenora with me,” he whispered, “I’ve already talked to Owens about it and he’s willing to help you move.”

“Eddie-” you sighed. You knew it was coming as soon as he looked at you that way.

“I know. It’s a lot to ask.” He sighed softly, “Especially with the kid – our kid. But I want to meet him and know him. I deserve to know him and I can’t do that here. I can’t move back to Hawkins. They’d have my head on a pike in a split second, you know that, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“These portals are only going to keep happening,” Eddie said, “It’s safe in California. They can’t get to us there. It’s just here.”

“But Eddie-”

“But what, princess? I’ve kept tabs on you here. Harrington’s kept me updated with you. I know you’re not living the life here. I know about it all. I’ve got a good job and a good house back in Lenora. I can provide a good life for us there. I can give you everything we talked about back then.”

“I can’t just say yes, Eddie. I’ve got to think of Oz, too.” You sighed.

“What does he know about me?” Eddie’s voice cracked as he bit his bottom lip, “Does – does he think I’m dead or that I just left him? Does he think I’m a piece of shit like my dad was?”

“No,” you said, cupping his chin, “I’ve told him countless times that you would’ve loved to have known him. How good of a dad you’d be. I told him you were dead because that’s what I was lead to believe.”

“Can I meet him, Y/N? Please?...just – I don’t want him to hate me like I hated my dad, you know?”

“He doesn’t think that,” you said, fingers moving to gently wipe his tears away, “Let me talk to him first, okay? Prepare him...let him know you’re not really dead. I don’t want him to know about what you said-”

“Has he heard about the murders?”

“Yes,” you whispered, “He did. He knows. We lived through fuckin’ hell the first few years of his life, Eddie. They called him the son of the freak...ridiculed me for keeping him.”

Eddie sobbed at that – the sound leaving his pinched lips, “You can’t raise him here, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve that.”

“I’ve got to go pick him up in a few minutes,” you said as you noticed the time, “But...is there a way that you could come by the house tomorrow? You can sneak in the back door. I still live in my moms old house but it’s just the two of us now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, sniffling as he wiped his eyes, “Definitely. I’ll get to meet him, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you gave him a small smile, “Please...don’t just disappear again, Eddie. I don’t want to get his hopes up, okay?”

“I’ll be there,” he nodded, “I swear to you.”

----

The next morning, you were awake bright and early in the kitchen. As if it was some built in clock, you heard the slow footsteps of your son descending the stairs. He rounded the corner, revealing his wild black bed hair as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Morning, bud.” You said, watching as he slung his blanket up and over his shoulders.

“Morning, mom.” he yawned, “You’re cooking breakfast this early?”

You looked down at the pancakes on the plate in front of him and nodded, “Yeah...I’ve got something important to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” Ozzy mumbled, “...is everything okay?”

“Well...that depends,” you said as you poured syrup on his plate, “You remember what I told you about your dad?”

Ozzy looked up at you with one eye as he rubbed his other free of the grittiness of sleep, “Um...yeah. That he was killed because they thought he was a murderer.”

“Well…” you sighed, “Okay. I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. He’s alive, Ozzy. And I seen him last night for the first time in ten years and he wants to meet you.”

Ozzy stared at you for a few minutes as it registered in his brain what you were saying. He went quiet as he looked down at his plate and then back up at you with tear filled eyes, “He...left us, mama?”

“It’s a long story, Oz.” You sighed softly, “But he was sort of put into something called witness protection due to what everyone said about him. It wasn’t his choice, bub. He didn’t want to leave us.”

“Does he know about me, mama?”

“He does,” you said as you walked over to him and sat beside of him, “And just like I said he would be, he’s so excited to meet you. I got to tell him last night. And if you’re okay with it...he’s going to be coming over in a little bit. But you can’t tell anybody about this just yet, okay? So if you see any of your friends, you can’t mention it.”

“Where does he live?”

“A place called Lenora...it’s out in California.” You said, thumb wiping his tears away from his small cheek. His bottom lip quivered as you pulled him into your lap and hugged him to you, “Hey...it’s okay. It’s okay, Oz.”

There was a knock on the back door and you knew who it was. Ozzy seemed to get the same feeling as he sat up and climbed out of your lap.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Ozzy looked up at you, “That’s – that’s my – that’s Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, “It is.”

He wiped his face as he watched you stand up and walk over to the door, opening for Eddie to step inside. Except he wasn’t alone. There was a old gray headed man standing behind him and before he could walk in, you stopped him.

“Who is that?” you pointed at the strange man.

“It’s okay,” Eddie nodded, “It’s Owens. The guy I was telling you about who could help. He’s safe.”

You stared at him for a moment, your fierce protective instincts kicking in as you blocked them from entering your home.

“Y/N,” Eddie said as he gently grasped your arms, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or bring anyone near you like that. Owen’s is safe. He’s the one who helped me.”

“Here’s my badge,” the old man said, showing you his I.D and his waist to prove he had no weapons, “I’m here to help.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, stepping to the side to allow the two men into your home. You lead them into the kitchen where Ozzy was standing bashfully behind the kitchen counter, peeking out at the strangers. It was nearly like watching a two way mirror. You knew he resembled his father, but seeing them both in the same room made you realize just how similar they truly were.

Eddie walked a bit closer and squatted down to his level and to the surprise of both of you, Ozzy ran to him and wrapped his little arms tightly around his neck. His cries filled the room as Eddie hugged him tightly, his tiny body overcome with so many emotions that his knees buckled and he collapsed against Eddie.

You squatted down beside of them, your hand gently scratching Ozzy’s scalp to try and calm him down. Eddie looked over at you, a look of complete and utter shock and...happiness on his face.

“It’s okay, Ozzy.” You said as you kissed the side of his face, “I know it’s wild, huh?”

“Totally wild,” he hiccuped as he leaned back and wiped his nose on a napkin you handed him.

They both took a minute to study each other before Ozzy spoke.

“You’ve got my face,” he said, small hand patting Eddie’s cheek.

“Nah, man. You’ve got my face.” Eddie smiled despite his tears, “I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Ar – are you here for good?” Ozzy’s voice cracked as he struggled to maintain eye contact with his father, “Or are you going to leave again?”

“Well...I can’t stay here. This town doesn’t like me very much,” Eddie said as he wiped away his sons tears.

“They don’t like me very much either,” Ozzy cried, “The kids...they’re mean to me. I’ve only got a few friends and we play DnD together when mama let’s me-”

“No way,” Eddie said, a small smile forming on his face, “What’s your role?”

“Dungeon master, just like you.” Ozzy said as he pulled his long hair over his mouth, getting bashful all of a sudden, “I’ve even got your binders and your screen...use it in every campaign...but you can have them back.”

“You keep them,” Eddie said with a soft smile, “They’re in good hands, I hope?”

“Mom says I’m the best,” Ozzy smiled over at you, “Ain’t I?”

“You are,” you smiled softly, “You definitely are.”

Eddie looked at you as if to silently ask permission. You knew what he as going to ask and you nodded softly. You hadn’t slept a wink all night thinking about finally escaping this hellhole of a town. And now was your perfect chance, but only if Ozzy agreed.

“Hey, can I ask you something really important?” Eddie asked softly, cupping Ozzy’s small chin in his hand.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“What do you say about leaving here and coming to live with me? It’ll be me, you, and mama.” Eddie said as he fully sat down on the ground now.

“Are the people nice there?” Ozzy whispered, brown eyes searching his fathers face, “Do...do they know about the murders?”

“No,” Eddie shook his head, “And they’re pretty cool people. No one will be mean to you...no one will know anything about the accusations. It’s a fresh start, yeah?”

Ozzy looked between the two of you and the strange man standing behind you. You wondered what was going through his mind as he thought about it for a few minutes.

“Can I bring my guitar?” Ozzy looked sheepishly up at Eddie.

“Dude – you can so bring that guitar.” Eddie smiled, “I’ll even let you play mine-”

“I do have yours,” Ozzy spoke up, “Mama said you called her sweetheart…”

It sounded as if all the wind had been knocked out of Eddie’s body as he bit back a sob. Your hand came up and slowly rubbed his back to comfort him as he stared at his son in disbelief.

“You have my guitar, too?” Eddie asked, voice cracking with emotion.

“Yeah. I’m not very good at it, but I like to practice.” Ozzy said proudly, “I can play some Iron Maiden songs so far. I’m gonna go get it.”

You two watched as Ozzy walked quickly out of the kitchen, his feet padding up the steps quickly. Eddie turned to you and smiled softly, “You raise a kick ass kid, Y/N.”

“An exact copy of you,” you said softly, happy tears filling your eyes.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Stranger things #Stranger things fanfic #thefreakymunson #fixit fic #Original Fic

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 6

CW for the series | Masterlist

FYI: I might not update this next week because I have a lot to do for school including exams, but I should be able to go back to my normal updating schedule after that!

You chose to tell them that obeying is a more important rule than earning their food, so they should obey when you tell them to eat.

You lower your face to Whumpee’s level and look them in the eyes. “Whumpee. I know only eating once you’ve earned it is a rule you’re used to living with. But obeying me and cooperating is a rule you’re supposed to follow too, yeah?”

A look of fear overshadows their face as they realize the implications of that. They probably feel trapped between a rock and a hard place with the rules at odds with each other like this. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s the more important rule. I expect you to be obedient. You’re not going to be punished for doing what I tell you to. Now, eat.”

Whumpee nods. They still look fearful but they pick up the fork and finally start eating.

You watch them the whole time to make sure they don't try anything sneaky to avoid eating their food. This probably means that you’ll have to outright order them every time they need food, but they are eating without getting hurt so you’ll consider it a win.

“Good,” you say as they finish. You debated whether praising obedience might send the wrong message for their recovery, but at this stage you figure it will do more good than harm. They need the reassurance that healthier behaviors are a good thing and they’re not going to be hurt.

You get yourself some food as well. Whumpee appears to take it as a good sign that you sit down to eat, instead of doing something about them having eaten without doing something to earn it. And once they seem reasonably convinced that you’re really not going to punish them for it, they do look happier now that they have a full belly.

Taglist:

@kabie-whump, @whumpanthems, @whumpsoda, @3-2-whump, @generic-whumperz,

@taterswhump, @alivenova, @whumped-by-glitter, @expressionless-fr, @whumpycries,

@whumpsday, @moons-cozy-corner, @echo-goes-aaa, @whumplr-reader, @starfields08000

(had to split it into groups of five because tumblr is having issues)

#interactive whump #interactive #interactive fiction #choose your own adventure #choose your own adventure poll #whump poll #cyoa #whump cyoa #whump #whumper turned caretaker #whump writing #original fic #writing #whumpblr #whumper turned caretaker cyoa #my writing #my posts

[luninosity]

Exciting news! The expanded and revised edition of my very first novel, from five years ago - A Prophecy for Two - will be coming out from JMS Books November 25! This version is about 10k longer, including a new bonus story! And look at the lovely cover art by @misspaperjoker <3 <3 <3

It's got...

~friends to lovers, a prince and his fairy-companion

~m/m high fantasy - very Lord Dunsany, Robin McKinley, fairytale kind of setting

~a Quest, and True Love, and a Prophecy

~temporary character death (it's a magic thing! he'll be fine!)

~the use of fairy magic to find missing pigs

~a happy ending, of course!

JMS Books pre-order (where it's on sale!) link here!

#lgbtq #fantasy #m/m romance #lgbtq fantasy #k.l. noone #original fic #jms books

[accio-sriracha]

Just One Night

By: Accio_Sriracha

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas

Word Count: 13k :)

Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Smut, Bottom Harry Potter, Top Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Needs Therapy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Amortentia, Harry's first time, what could go wrong?

Summary:

A year hadn't yet gone by where something strange didn't happen to Harry Potter. Eighth year, it seemed, would be no different.

Harry and Draco Malfoy are partnered in potions class, instructed to brew amortentia, a love potion which smells like what attracts you most. The odd events that occur afterwards leave them both questioning their feelings towards one another.

Deciding to get it out of their system, the two agree to let their feelings loose for one night only.

#harry potter #drarry #draco malfoy #harry x draco #draco x harry #my fanfiction #original fic #hogwarts eighth year #smut #bottom harry potter #top draco malfoy #harry potter needs therapy #pining draco malfoy #amortentia #harry's first time #what could go wrong