#whether this is a good or bad thing I cannot tell

[growling]

What's up gamers I saw a mutual (hi) making one earlier in the day and thought hey why not too. Might go into the bio idk maybe perhaps by chance

#can't tell whether i'm doing good or bad today. i mean at the same time i need a distraction to survive but also i have things to do so. #but i also i cannot do any of these things as im once again rendered unable to think. which is a common occurence. so uh. yeagh👍 #mine

[chooey]

just finished breaking bad

#spoilers ahead so! tread lightly #breaking bad #bc i binged a lot of this show some episodes do not stick out to me like i cant tell u what happened on which episode or even which season #the naz!s were so left field like i think the story would still be the same without the hooked cross tattoos #it was surprising how the drug cartel or whatever didnt have much involvement in s5. like why did i think for sure theyd relocate to mexico #a follow up wouldve been nice is all im saying #OK. characters! my fav were mike jesse gus skyler and saul. hated walt literally since day 1. didnt change much up until the end #listen i can understand the concept of characters being morally bankrupt egotistical narcissistic abusive and manipulative #but walt was just . not charming enough a character to do it sorry he is what he is. sorry to him but i cannot stand him #i can appreciate some of his monologues though! fly (episode) was great for that the show needed it at least in my opinion #i like that all the characters are fundamentally flawed ! walt is at his core insufferable but he makes a good tragic story👍🏼 #hank was so stupid like? 😭 when lab equipment from walt's school were stolen i thought that'd be it lollll #it was well written for the most part i think!!!!! some parts needed suspension of disbelief but whatever yk #what matters to me the most is whether i cried or not and yeah. yeah i did cry!!!!!! so what!!!!!!!!! #THEMES. obv theres change/corruption... power and abuse of power. toxic masculinity? and family. living life to the fullest if ur insane #also!!! just finished el camino and i liked it! simple story but i like the themes in it. this man's been through so much #jesse was point blank a victim of abuse and im glad he gets to leave the past behind and move forward with his life #owned up to the choices that gotten him up to this point. had control over his life again and building a new future for himself #very cool. also the ending of brba? i think it's good enough i mean i cant think of anything more fitting #but man did he do some incredible... maybe irreparable damage to his family huh. midlife crisis things <3 #i hope they heal <3 somehow <3 #wait about the themes too in brba!! one is reaching ur full potential... again if ur insane #idk maybe sometimes it's ok to flop. just as long as ur enjoying ur life and ur happy... i think that's fine! walt u and i will never agree #izza💭

[eelhound]

"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:

If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.

'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?

This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).

But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."

- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.

#kurt schiller #ursula k. le guin #quote #quotations #the ones who walk away from omelas #trolley problem #activism #introspection #discomfort #reform #revolution #suffering #ethics #morality

[ldknightshade]

morality: a character creation guide

creating and understanding your oc’s personal moral code! no, i cannot tell you whether they’re gonna come out good or bad or grey; that part is up to you.

anyway, let’s rock.

i. politics

politics are a good way to indicate things your character values, especially when it comes to large-scale concepts such as government, community, and humanity as a whole.

say what you will about either image; i’d argue for the unintiated, the right image is a good introduction to some lesser discussed ideologies… some of which your oc may or may not fall under.

either way, taking a good look at your character’s values on the economic + social side of things is a good place to start, as politics are something that, well… we all have ‘em, you can’t avoid ‘em.

clearly, this will have to be adjusted for settings that utilize other schools of thought (such as fantasy + historical fiction and the divine right of kings), but again, economic/social scale plotting will be a good start for most.

ii. religion + philosophy

is your oc religious? do they believe in a form of higher power? do they follow some sort of philosophy?

are they devout? yes, this applies to non-religious theist and atheist characters as well; in the former’s case… is their belief in a higher power something that guides many of their actions or is their belief in a higher power something that only informs a few of their actions? for the atheists; do they militant anti-theists who believe atheism is the only way and that religion is harmful? or do they not care about religion, so long as it’s thrust upon them?

for the religious: what is your oc’s relationship with the higher power in question? are they very progressive by their religion’s standards or more orthodox? how well informed of their own religion are they?

does your oc follow a particular school of philosophical thought? how does that interact with their religious identification?

iii. values

by taking their political stance and their religious + philosophical stance, you have a fairly good grasp on the things your character values.

is there anything they value - due to backstory, or what they do, or what they love - that isn’t explained by political stance and religious and/or philosophical identification? some big players here will likely be your oc’s culture and past.

of everything you’ve determined they value, what do they value the most?

iv. “the line”

everyone draws it somewhere. we all have a line we won’t cross, no matter the lengths we go for what we believe is a noble cause. where does your character draw it? how far will they go for something they truly believe is a noble cause? as discussed in part iii of my tips for morally grey characters,

would they lie? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? what about commit acts of vandalism? arson? would they kill?

but even when we have a line, sometimes we make exceptions for a variety of reasons. additionally, there are limits to some of the lengths we’d go to.

find your character’s line, their limits and their exceptions.

v. objectivism/relativism

objectivism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “an ethical theory that moral good is objectively real or that moral precepts are objectively valid.”

relativism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “a view that ethical truths depend on the individuals and groups holding them.”

what take on morality, as a concept, does your character have? is morality objective? is morality subjective?

we could really delve deep into this one, but this post is long enough that i don’t think we need to get into philosophical rambling… so this is a good starting point.

either way, exploring morality as a concept and how your character views it will allow for better application of their personal moral code.

vi. application

so, now you know what they believe and have a deep understanding of your character’s moral code, all that’s left is to apply it and understand how it informs their actions while taking their personality into account.

and interesting thing to note is that we are all hypocrites; you don’t have to do this, but it might be fun to play around with the concept of their moral code and add a little bit of hypocrisy to their actions as a treat.

either way, how do your character’s various beliefs interact? how does it make them interact with the world? with others? with their friends, family, and community? with their government? with their employment? with their studies? with the earth and environment itself?

in conclusion:

there’s a lot of things that inform one’s moral compass and i will never be able to touch on them all; however, this should hopefully serve as at least a basic guide.

#ldknightshade.txt #writing #writing tips #creative writing #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #writing help #how to write #writing tumblr #writeblr

[rick-rayson]

LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS

A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit

NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous

┊BEFORE DATING:

Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.

Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.

And very, very bad flirting.

"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"

"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."

"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.

It breaks and she falls over.

Just. Really bad.

You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.

Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh

Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.

┊DATING:

She's actually a huge loser

Absolute girl failure

She's trying so hard though

Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.

At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.

You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.

She's a bit of a freak honestly.

SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.

Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.

You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"

Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.

But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.

Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.

When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.

Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.

Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.

Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books

"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"

hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.

"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.

Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.

Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.

She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.

Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.

Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.

Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.

Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.

She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.

She falls first, and she falls hard.

Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.

A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.

She most definitely uses it on you.

And uh.. NSFW headcanons?

SHE'S A FREAK!

AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!

That is all. c:

#Fallout #Fallout x reader #fallout 4 #fallout 3 #fallout amazon prime #fallout tv #fallout series #fallout tv show #fallout prime #lucy fallout #lucy maclean x reader #fallout lucy x reader #fallout new vegas #fallout nv #ella purnell

[jiskblr]

Tumblr Rules for Redditors

Hello, fellow redditors! Many people are trying to tell you rules about how to Tumblr properly. Many of them are wrong, or assholes, or both. I am also an asshole but I’m going to not be one for a minute to give you some advice:

“Reblog this or you’re a bad person” and any variation on that is a violation of intergalactic law. Don’t do it. Also, refuse to comply if someone else does it.

Generally, people can see what you reblog, but cannot see what you ‘like’. A like may seem like an upvote, but it is much less significant than one, since it doesn’t affect visibility in the slightest. A like will be visible both to the OP of the thread, and to the person whose reblog you put the like on. Like promiscuously! It feels good to get likes and there’s no downside. (Unless you are a space alien AKA influencer.)

Tumblr nominally has the ability to browse global tags (e.g. seeing the entire site’s posts and reblogs tagged #superwholock or #reddit exodus) and to search the site for things. No one uses them and they don’t really work.

You are probably less surprised by this than denizens of literally any other website on the internet, but there’s no algorithm here. Chronological order only. (If you’re using the search or global tags, they might have an algorithm, but if they do, it doesn’t work. We don’t know because we don’t use them.)

Anyone can have absolutely any conversation in the notes of your post that they like. This is how the website works. You are allowed to complain about it, but don’t expect anyone to humor you.

Many people have ‘DNI’ lists in their blog descriptions. This means ‘do not interact’ and indicates that they don’t want you to message them, reblog from them, reblog any posts they are OP of, or even, sometimes, ‘like’ their posts. It is good manners to respect these, if you know they exist, but in normal use you probably won’t look at blog descriptions very often so it is entirely okay to violate them by accident. (When the lists get very long, it becomes impractical to check whether you violate them. Generally, just skip it. You probably don’t want to interact with those people anyway.)

Notes on posts you start will go to you no matter how many intervening hops there are on the reblog chain. If you get a post with an enormous amount of notes, this can get overwhelming. Whatever the current incarnation of Xkit (basically RES for Tumblr except we’ve switched names and maintainers seven times) is, will have a setting to deal with this. If that’s insufficient, the suggested course of action is to reblog your OP to your own blog so that you have a copy for posterity’s sake, and then delete the OP. This silences the notes.

If you and another user both follow each other, you are ‘mutuals’. This makes it much easier to have conversations with each other, which is ordinarily sort of hard since everything is purely chronological. Frequently your mutuals are your friends; if not yet true, they may become your friends.

When you reblog things, you can write words both in the word part and in the tags, Modern tumblr norms are to write long rambling tags in full sentences rather than put words in the main body. Do not that only the first four tags in the list can be searched on. Unlike some other norms, violating this one and putting your response in the body of the reblog is not particularly rude. The worst it does is make a reblog chain long. Probably don’t reblog things and just say “This.”, though.

If you want to search your blog, consider Siikr. Don’t overuse it, it’s one guy’s project.

Be verbose! This ain’t Twitter, no character limit. (Not even the really large character limit of a reddit comment.) Write a 3000-word story in a single reblog if you want, that sounds awesome. Use ‘read more’ if you do, though. Posts can be very long, one of our oldest memes is about this.

Infinite scroll is the default, but you can turn it off. Actually, check all the settings, many of them will improve your experience.

Everybody be excellent to each other!

#reddit #reddit exodus #how to tumblr #blue hellsite (affectionate)

[inez-winchester-cameron]

omg pls write more of what you just posted of rafe with that age gap it's sooo hot 😭 like something about the reader being bratty on purpose and sassing him

cw: dark!rafe x younger!reader, 29 and 19, non-con/rape, drug use, intoxicated reader, talks of free use and public sex, abusive relationship

note: is this too dark, yes or no

rafe HATES when you disobey at parties. ever since you two have started dating, you have a bad habit of misbehaving at parties to get more attention from rafe. whether that be overdrinking, snorting coke, smoking weed, or flirting with other guys. all of these being things that you KNOW rafe disapproves of.

tonight, it happened to be a mix of all of them. you went to the restroom and came back to rafe talking with one of his ex girlfriends, sofia. you completely being oblivious to the fact that he was telling her off. you huff and head back into the room where topper and kelce sit.

they're doing lines and drinking, sitting on opposite sides of a loveseat.

"hey, y/n, have a seat," topper politely greets you, gesturing to an empty chair beside the loveseat but you smile and sit inbetween topper and kelce. they give eachother a look but say nothing.

"whatcha guys doin?" you ask, looking over toppers shoulder as he sets up a line.

"coke, nothing you should concern yourself with."

"yeah rafe would kill us if he knew you were anywhere near this," kelce comments.

"hes too busy bein up sofia's pussy to care. can i do a line?"

kelce and topper both look at you at this comment, a little shocked. they knew rafe and how loyal he was to you, he never even so much as entertained another girl.

"you saw him up her pussy?" kelce asks, confused.

"well no but- it doesnt even matter, just let me do a line."

"sweetheart i dont think-" topper starts.

"pleaseeeeee?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes.

topper sighs and glances to kelce who shrugs. eventually topper responds, "okay fine, sweetie, but you cannot tell rafe."

"i won't, promise! ill even pinky promise if you want!"

topper stares at you for a moment, finding your innocence both endearing and hot at the same time. too bad you aren't his. topper sets up a line for you and gently guides you onto your knees in front of the table. he gives you the dollar bill and guides you as you snort it. you let it sit for a minute, not feeling anything, then it hits. and you want more.

"again!" you say, looking at topper, feeling your brain begin to buzz.

"yeah no i don't-"

"what the fuck are you doing?"

your eyes shoot to the doorway. rafe stands there, arms crossed, hair messy, blood on his knuckles, and he looks pissed.

"rafey!" you greet him, trying to pretend you didn't just snort cocaine. you stand up, swaying, and subsequently falling back onto the couch.

"what the fuck guys?" rafe questions, walking over to you. he looks pissed, "how much did you give her?"

"just a line, man, she asked for it. quite literally," kelce speaks first and topper agrees.

"i didn't know you don't let her do that man, im sorry-" topper defends himself and rafe shakes his head, calming down a bit.

"nah you're good, man. it's her fault. come on, princess, we have some business to discuss." rafe says through gritted teeth, roughly grabbing your arm and heading to his room. once you're upstairs and away from people, he starts scolding you, "what the fuck were you thinking? you know so much better than that."

"you were talking to Sof-"

"yeah i was telling her to go suck a fucking dick. then i beat the shit out of her boyfriend for calling you a whore. but maybe he was right, you don't think about anyone but yourself, huh? always just assuming. saw the way you were staring at top." rafe speaks with no sympathy and you two slip into his bedroom. he presses you down onto the bed, holding your hands behind your back as he flips your little skirt up, "no panties? you fucking serious? god what is wrong with you? you stupid little whore."

you hear his belt unbuckle and your head continues buzzing from your high. soon enough, you feel his cock, pushing into you. it's immediately too much.

"rafe-! no no no-"

"don't tell me fucking no, bitch. act like a whore, get treated like one. maybe i should've just fucked you downstairs," rafe starts, setting a fast pace with his thrusts, not hearing any of your protests, "or maybe i should tie you up down there, let all these drunk men use your holes since you wanna disobey. i think that's a fair punishment, huh? i try to be nice and defend your honor and you make eyes at two of my best friends. fucking bitch."

"rafe i didn't- i don't want this- stop!" you beg but rafe doesn't care. he simply tugs your hair in response as you start crying. your head is pounding and it's all too much.

"that's it, cry for it, bitch. this is my fucking pussy and i'm gonna use it when i want. now whine one more time and i'm gonna make this pussy free use to the entire island."

you whimper and stay quiet in response. you think about leaving rafe, but you can't, you love him and maybe you even secretly loved being fucked against your will.

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshots #rafe obx #rafe cameron thirst

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

aziraphale from good omens :)

Bahahahaha! Oh my.

Okay, for the sake of sportsmanship, let's be as fair as we can and give Dracula every fighting chance.

The first big question is holiness - Aziraphale is undoubtedly very very holy. But he's an angel of God, not literally God, and that makes a difference. If we take the demons of Good Omens as a test case, we can see that they share some traditional weaknesses with vampires, the most prominent one being Holy Water - (although NB Dracula never interacts with Holy Water in novel, just as none of the demons in Good Omens, book or series, never interact with the Host). It seems reasonable to presume that Crowley for instance would have a bad time with a crucifix. So we can perhaps say that the two are repulsed by the divine in much the same way. But. No one would ever suggest that Crowley cannot physically touch Aziraphale. Right? Apart from it being demonstrably untrue, whole pillars of fandom would collapse. It's a non-starter. So Aziraphale is not prima facie the kind of divine that is repulsive to the demoniac... except perhaps aesthetically.

The next thing to get out of way is that Aziraphale is not strictly speaking the kind of thing that can die. But he can be discorporated, and the waiting list on bodies is such a bother, so I am going to say that if his physical body gets destroyed by any means that counts as not surviving Castle Dracula, though I love the idea of him possessing people later in the novel (I'm thinking either Renfield or Van Helsing, because Renfield is basically a medium already and like real weird about angels, and Van Helsing has that one scene where Jonathan is like .... so I'm like 90% sure he was possessed and speaking with literal divine authority just then. Weird.) The question then becomes what it takes it discorporate an angel and whether Dracula in fact possesses those means. The one thing that actually accomplishes it in universe is that summoning circle, which is a pretty extreme example. BUT if we include actual biblical canon in our angelology, then, while while that doesn't bring us any closer to what, if anything, can kill an angel, we do at least have examples of angels being beaten in fistfights. So, for the purposes of this exercise, Aziraphale can in principle be killed, and he can also in principle be beaten in a fistfight.

It might make some difference if we are talking about the Book or the Series. Book!Aziraphale is a little bit more of a bastard, a little less naive, a little less distractactable, and (as is Crowley) a whole lot more terrifyingly competent than his televised counterpart.

...okay enough of this. Aziraphale outclasses Dracula so hard it's not even funny. Angels and Demons are set up to be evenly matched because they are fundamentally the same type of thing and that's the whole point - but Dracula isn't that type of Demon. He's a human person who's mildly demoniac because he majored in it in college. It's very impressive to other humans, sure, but like, the ravings of his solicitor aside, he's really not on the level of actual Demons of the Pit. And the things that humans are better at - creativity, growth, love - he's traded for vampirism. He's got the disadvantages of both without really the advantages of either.

Aziraphale's fatal flaw, if you want to call it that, is that he really likes humans. He would be delighted by Dracula's cooking and by his library. He would never stand for the baby eating. He would he more insufferable about the paprika than our baby lawyer. But he's also had 6000 years of learning to be unassuming and letting people underestimate him, and perfecting the Reverse Customer Service voice. He would do that Disapproving Bookseller thing and make Dracula uncomfortable in his own home. He's not the kind of thing that can be hypnotized. He's not going to waste time looking for the key, the doors will just open for him when he tells them to. And if all else fails he has wings, he can literally just leave whenever.

So um, yes. Aziraphale can survive Castle Dracula. And he will probably mess with Dracula non-trivially while he's there.

#aziraphale #good omens #divine entities

[youraverageaemondsimp]

New Year, New beginnings // Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader // MODERN AU.

Summary: An invitation from your ex to a formal party at his house was a surprise, what you didn't expect was how things would escalate so quickly.

WARNINGS: minors do not interact. afab!reader, unprotected p in v sex, exes to lovers, oral m receiving, throat-fucking, rough sex(?), Aemond being desperate, masturbation, tiddy sucking, cumming inside, new years sex, making up, teasing, + not proofread, please lmk if I missed any!

WC: 2k

A/N: first fic of 2024! happy (late) new year everyone! wishing you a good year ahead!! <333 // divider creds: @cafekitsune

You and Aemond have broken up a few months ago, it was a decision you both had to make in order to continue on with your life, it was not toxic, just a mutual parting between two lovers on a common ground where they both understood each other.

But why do you still long for him? Frankly, you did not remember why you both had broken up because you had realised it was probably not that important, yet now, you know you cannot go back because both of you are in the process of moving on.

The invitation to a New years party from the targaryen was a surprise, it was a formal party where the rich gathered so why were you invited? Not to mention the invitation was from Aemond himself.

You had pondered on whether to attend or not, but it has been a few months since you last saw Aemond, it would be a nice change of pace to see him again, but you had to prepare yourself.

And there you were, standing in the middle of the party trying to look for Aemond which turns out to be a bad idea when you spot him with another woman, who had her hand on his arm, talking pretty closely. You felt a pang through your chest at that sight but you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

Aemond seemed to have spotted you now, he seemed to be taken back by surprise before he ditched that woman next to him and rushed over to you, he seemed breathless when he began speaking. “I didn't expect you to turn up.” He told you, catching his breath.

“Well I had to come, I missed seeing you, Aemond.” You tell him honestly and smile up at him which makes him smile too, “You look so beautiful today.” He compliments you, his habit of taking your hand in his when he compliments bursts right through making him do it, his finger grazes over your empty ring finger, likely in thought that before you broke up, you had planned getting engaged.

The air is filled with tension when his eye doesn't leave the spot, and his grip slightly tightens on your hands, he gives them a light squeeze before letting go of them, and you clear your throat.

“You look quite handsome yourself, Aemond.” You tell him genuinely and he blushes slightly, looking down before looking back at you, “Thank you.” He replies and you grin at him.

“I was shocked to see the invitation you know, I thought I was getting put on trial when I saw the targtower stamp.” you joked which made him chuckle. “My apologies, but don't be surprised if you are put on trial because it is quite illegal to look extremely beautiful and desiring.” He replies back and you hit his arm playfully, “That's so cheesy Aemond! Did Aegon teach you this?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the way that stupid line caused you to blush, and Aemond nods, “Of course, only Aegon is capable of teaching a line that is highly cringe- though it made me feel warm inside when it was you who said it.” You tell him shyly and he smirks.

“Did it? Guess I still have it in me hm..” The way his voice became an octave lower and his hum made the air between you fill up with sexual tension. “I still feel the same about you.” You blurt out and he stares at you.

That's when your eyes widen in realisation at what you said and before you can backtrack, he grabs you by your arms and pulls you closer, adjusting himself to whisper in your ear, “To be quite honest, I feel the same.” His hot breath fans in your ear and you gasp, feeling it slightly tickle the side of your neck. He moves back with a smirk on your face and you stare at him dumbfoundedly, Aemond doesn't hesitate to grab you by your arm and take you away from the party, everyone minding their own business to even notice the absence of the second son, this allowed him to slip away with him unnoticed.

Well, until you caught the prying eyes of Aegon, who gave you a wink which made you blush in embarrassment and look away.

You knew Aemond was taking you, to his bedroom, which was located on the side of the entire mansion, his footsteps were hurried, he was practically trying to run for it. His patience keeps wearing thin as he is nearby his room, and the moment he enters it, he quickly shuts the door behind you and pins you to it.

“Can I?” His voice breaks as he tries to restrain himself from touching you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, you nod at him, indicating that you want this just as he does and he doesn't waste any time as his lips are already pressed against yours.

It started off slow at first, his hands holding your waist as he keeps you pinned to the door, the kiss turning more and more desperate as each moment passes on, you place your hand on his shoulder before sliding it up to his hair, you push yourself against him, deepening the kiss as your grip on his hair, he groans into the kiss which allows you to push your tongue into his mouth and further intensifying the kiss.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I missed you.” He tells you and you smile at him, “I missed you too.” You are pulled into another passionate kiss before Aemond pulls you off the wall and throws you on the bed.

You watch as he unbuttons his suit and shit, leaving him in his pants, he pulls you to edge of the bed by your leg and you look up at him with wide eyes, he doesn't need to tell you anything, but the look in his eye, you understand what he wanted and you immediately begin to unbuckle his pants and pull them down.

You gently hold his cock before pumping it up and down, making it rise to full hardness, you always loved how pretty his dick looked, you stared into his eyes and licked the tip teasingly, making him gasp, you teased him more, swirling your tongue around his tip and sucking on it from time to time, your other hand moved to play with his balls, and you give them a squeeze.

“Fuckk, stop fucking teasing.” He groans, and you disobey his command, liking the reactions you're getting out of him, you continue to tease. Soon Aemond has had enough and grips your hair tightly and pushes you down causing you to take his entire cock into your mouth, leading you to gag on it.

He holds the sides of your head stable and begins fucking your mouth with no mercy, your hands rest on his hips, gripping them tightly as he abuses your mouth and throat, “Look at you, taking me so well, good girl.” He praises you which causes you to rub your thighs together, trying to ease the tension forming there.

His thrusts become sloppy, his hand quickly makes work of your dress, pulling it down to reveal your tits before he pulls you off his cock and pushes you onto the bed, he climbs atop you and pumps himself with his hand before he finishes with a loud groan on your chest, his cum pooling on your breasts and collarbone.

He watches the way you press your thighs together in arousal, squirming while trying to ease the itch in between them, he smirks before he parts your legs forcefully, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment at how wet you had become, soaking your panties. “Fuck you're so wet, all this for me hm?” His hum makes it worse.

“Touch yourself.” He commands you and you stare at him confused, “Did you not hear me? Touch. yourself.” His voice becomes stern and you immediately obey, pulling off your underwear along with your dress, leaving yourself fully naked, and spreading your legs wide, giving him the entire view. You press your fingers on your clit before rubbing slow circles onto it, he watches you with an intense gaze that makes you quiver beneath him. Aemond seemed as though he had two different personalities, he was extremely caring and sweet in your relationship but he had a rough side when it came to sex, and you loved and missed it so much.

You couldn't just find pleasure through your clit anymore and opted to push your finger inside your cunt, you gasped at the delicious stretch, almost forgetting that Aemond was there, he still hasn't moved from his spot nor did he stop staring at you, but his breathing did become heavier.

One finger wasn't enough, so you added another one and tried setting a pace that would be pleasurable, but knowing how Aemond's cock was only few inches away and the thought of having it in you made your pleasure feel as nothing, so you became desperate, gripping the bed sheet and bucking your hips up to meet your own pace.

Suddenly a hand pushes your hips down and another grips your wrist and makes you pull out of yourself, “Enough.” He gasps and you notice how his own hand was shaking while it was gripping your wrist, he brings it to his mouth before licking your fingers clean and then dropping it. You noticed how unbearably hard he had become and he was shaking from how hard he was holding himself back.

You spread your legs wider, “Fuck me, Aemond.”

Those words were enough to make him go feral, he grabs your hips roughly and positions himself, his tip prodding at your entrance, and before you know it, he shoves him inside you, the stretch causing you to cling on his shoulders and throw your head back.

He begins to move, thrusting in and out of you, his thrusts held an odd feeling of desperation, the way he grunted above you as his hair curtained your face, him biting his inner up with his eyes closed as he felt your walls gripping onto him, everything was so delicious, and soon you were lost in the pleasure yourself.

He knew all your weak spots, perfectly hitting the sweet point each and every time, drawing your orgasm near and near, you were so lost in the pleasure to barely hear the countdown everyone began chanting as the new year drew closer, just as your orgasm did.

Three

His lips descended on your breasts and began to suckle on your nipple, simultaneously cleaning up his spend which gathered there, while his thrusts became sloppy.

Two

The combined pleasure drew your orgasm near and near, and his hand immediately went down to your clit, rubbing fast circles onto it.

One

Your orgasm drew closer and closer and before you knew it, it hit you extremely hard.

Happy new year!

You came with a cry, and so did Aemond, the crowds loud cheering and the fireworks being sent off into the sky was tuned out by the ringing in your ear because of your pleasure being ripped through you.

Aemond groaned as he finished himself deep inside of you, and proceeded to ride his orgasm out, he kissed you one final time before plopping down next to you and began to catch his breath.

“Happy new year.” He tells you and you smile, wishing him back, “Happy new year, Aemond.”

“Will you be mine again? I promise this time we'll work everything out.” He asks and you chuckle, “Yes Aem, I wanted to ask you that too.” You tell him unashamedly and he gazes lovingly at you before kissing you.

“I love you so much, Y/N, I am so thankful for you.” He says softly, making you feel all warm inside.

“I love you too Aem, you mean so much to me.” You reply, and press a kiss to his forehead.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond x y/n #x reader smut #reader insert #smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #hotd x reader #hotd x reader smut #aemond modern au

[sakuraszn]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 !

⌜ 🎬 ⌟ starring ⤳ e!42 miles morales

word count - 469 | no proofread

synopsis - what miles is like as your boyfriend.

warnings/notes - fluff, a hint of angst?? the reader is fem. ngl it feels good to be writing again cs it’s been a hot minute..but here’s a lil smthn for y’all (and for me),, I hope you enjoy it !

MILES MORALES is the type of guy who will give you some nicknames to call you, and you love it. he’ll call you ma, mami, princess, beautiful it just goes on.

MILES MORALES that holds your bags no matter the circumstances, he’s a gentleman and will always do the heavy lifting.

MILES MORALES always needs to touch you. he’s clingy without even realizing it and will deny it anytime you bring it up to him.

MILES MORALES loves kissing you whether it’s your cheek, your neck, your lips even your hand. If you don’t kiss him at all he gets a lil upset.

“damn, ion get no kisses? what i do wrong mami?”

MILES MORALES likes hugging you from the back.

MILES MORALES gets jealous and his jealousy turns into possessiveness. he doesn’t like when any guy tries to talk to you, especially when they tryna hit on you. what do you need to talk to another guy for when you got him?

MILES MORALES who hates when you get mad at him and give him the silent treatment, he wants to talk things out no matter how bad your fight was.

“can you please talk to me, ma? Ion like when you mad at me.”

MILES MORALES who always gives you words of affirmations and calms your nerves anytime you’re overthinking something.

MILES MORALES will always show you affection even in-front of his friends and family. he doesn’t care who’s looking all he wants is you.

MILES MORALES who shows you off to the world.

MILES MORALES is always buying you something no matter the price. he loves spoiling you especially if it’s something you really really want.

MILES MORALES who pulls up to your house with a bouquet of flowers and some food.

MILES MORALES acts all tough n shit around other people but when he’s alone with you he literally cannot keep his hands of you and acts like a clingy toddler who will not leave you alone.

MILES MORALES who checks your attitude.

MILES MORALES who has a polaroid picture of you two in the back of his phone case.

MILES MORALES who gets to the point where he's comfortable with you to tell you about his dad's death.

MILES MORALES is big on eye contact, like every time you look at him you can’t help but avoid his eyes and he’ll revert your chin to him to make sure your looking him in the eyes. you fold every timeee.

MILES MORALES who introduced you to his mom and mama rio absolutely loves and adores you!

MILES MORALES teaches you a lick of spanish from time to time and he admires how you try your hardest to get it right even when you pronounced it wrong.

MILES MORALES who will put you on his lap. he just finds it comfortable.

©SAKURASZN !

#miles morales #miles g morales #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42 miles x reader #42 miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles x you #miles x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #spiderman atsv #atsv #x reader #yn #earth 42 prowler #prowler miles #earth 42 #fluff #spiderman

[lowtaperfeyd]

Hi 🥰 can i request scenario where reader is paul’s sister and feyd’s wife who is all about honor and one day after feyd’s fight she tells him that he’s not all that because he doesn’t fight fare and is coward 😏

Rats Vs. Mice

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

author's note: Feyd is so fine. That's all.

warnings: death, blood, house harkonnen, knives.

wc: 940

(Y/N) Atreides’ father, the Duke Leto Atreides, had a saying, “Respect for truth is the basis for all morality. Something cannot emerge from nothing.” This has always been something both him and his daughter lived by. Because there is no honor in a man who isn’t truthful. Most of the time she didn’t think of this saying often, since she had been surrounded by truthful men. But when she married Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen she realized just how much the Harkonnens lie. She realized the truth did also die with her father. 

“Does he always fight this way?’ She interrogated her uncle-in-law as they were watching Feyd fight in the black and white light of the Harkonnen homeworld’s sun. 

“Yes of course he does!” He quickly responded, feeling a little offended because of the criticism of his heir from his own wife, “What other way is he supposed to?!”  

“I didn't mean to offend, my Baron,” she replied, realizing it was a bad idea to bad mouth Feyd in front of his uncle, “I’m sorry.”  

“Silly girl,” the only thing that came out of the baron’s mouth after that was, “That boy killed his own mother.” (Y/N) continued to watch Feyd fight. 

The way his arm moved through the air in a teasing motion. Like a cat drawing out the death of a mouse. It was complete cowardice disguised by an overconfident nature from many fights against drugged opponents. Drugged opponents who may just stand a chance against Feyd-Rautha. Of course, she did not think he was a bad fighter, just that he was a big baby. 

The fight, of course, ended with all of Feyd’s opponents on the ground lying still and Feyd’s knife rising to the air to show the blood of his kills. Pathetic from a man who won’t even fight a sober man, (Y/N) thought.

As Feyd went back through the tunnel he came out of, (Y/N) turned toward the baron and asked him,

“Would Feyd ever fight against a man who wasn’t drugged?” 

“Why do you ask this?” The baron asked suspiciously. 

“I mean, isn't his birthday coming up? A good present for him would be fighting someone of equal machinery in a sense. You also need to test whether or not he would be good for Arrakis. I know you aren’t happy with Rabban.” 

The baron just mumbled incoherently. 

“Anyway, I must leave,” She said as she got up, “I have to see my husband.” 

(Y/N) began walking through the tall halls of the fortress. Passing grotesque portraits and seeing the black and white fireworks coming from outside of the castle. The fireworks in celebration of Feyd’s victory. Even though it was dark inside the castle the fireworks did light it just enough to where you did not need a glow globe to transverse through the corridors. The air got more frigid as she continued to walk deeper and deeper to her husband’s room. Like walking into the belly of the beast. She got to her husband’s bedroom door and saw two guards outside of it. 

“You can leave” (Y/N) said to the guards. 

The guards just looked at her and nodded. Afraid of what she would or her husband would do if they didn’t listen. 

(Y/N) opened the huge door to see her husband sitting hunched over on his bed. His feet firmly planted on the ground. His knife, still bloody, in his hands. 

“I watched you fight today.” She said cooly to him. 

“I know,” He said equally, “I saw you from the ground” 

“Well congratulations-” She tried to get out before being interrupted by Feyd, 

“What were you talking about with my uncle?” He bit out in a mix of anger and annoyance.

“I don’t know what youre talking about.” (Y/N) deflected. 

“Don’t play coy!” He shouted and moved to stand menacingly in front of his wife, “I saw you two talking and then looking back at me. What was it!”   

“You would be right, Feyd,” She responded, standing her ground, “We were talking about you.” 

(Y/N) declared, “How much of a coward you are,” After saying this she could see the anger lighting up in the cold, black eyes of Feyd-Rautha, “How his youngest nephew only fought people who weren’t able to beat him. And how pathetic it is.” She spat at him.  

“And would you know something, he actually agreed with me.” (Y/N) lied through her teeth, hoping that Feyd would not go and ask his uncle about it later, 

“He agreed that it would be more entertaining if you actually fought people who stab you as easily as you stab them. Have a form of equal bloodshed.” 

Even though his wife was still berating him, Feyd continued to look at his wife, the woman who was not afraid to question him or go against when it came down to speaking, and thought about how pretty she would be with her head on a spike. Red lipstick smeared on her lips and hair all messed up from the blade going across her throat. 

“And do you want to know the worst thing about you Feyd,” (Y/N) continued to push his buttons, “any honor you have earned is false. The only animal one could compare you to is a lazy, house cat; who can only find entertainment in tiny mice, and can’t defeat the rats which actually pose a threat.” 

“You lost all your honor the day you killed your mother.”

"What makes you think you know anything about honor? " Feyd retorted, "Your family is dead and mine is thriving."

#house harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune pt 2 #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen

[dadsbongos]

i eat your skin - f.megumi

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - cunnilingus (fem reader), title sounds like vore smut but it isn't i promise word count - 3.7 K / rating - R

Megumi braces his hands on his knees, brows pinched tight in preemptive annoyance. Satoru spindles over him, shadowing the younger man almost completely - and it only serves to irritate Megumi that he’d refused to sit down. Furiously determined to forever humiliate his former pupil, Megumi assumes.

Or, he would, if Satoru hadn’t actually agreed to give him advice about a little… situation.

“Alright, now when you see her, look at me- seriously, look at me, Megumi,” Satoru’s face is lethally drawn, usual bright grin tugged low and serious with furrowed brows to match, “Megumi, you cannot let her intimidate you,” Megumi opens his mouth, a vile retort slithers back down his throat when Satoru interrupts, “No, I know you, and you’ll feel all sick,” he mocks a frown, even pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, “You’ll get all nervous. But you cannot let her intimidate you out of it.”

“I’ll hardly die asking her out,” Megumi rolls his eyes, one hand lathering the sweat in his palms against his sweatpants and the other scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe this just isn’t a good idea…”

“And what? Be a miserable wimp the rest of your life?” Satoru folds his arms across his chest, “You’ve liked her since you were first years.”

“And?”

“You’re graduates now!”

“So?”

“‘So,’” Satoru mimics Megumi’s sulking nature, voice deep and neanderthal-ish in nature, “Be greedier, kid!” he flicks the younger man’s forehead, “You’ll die one day. You’ll die. Whether it be on a mission, or in your hospital bed as a diseased old man - you can’t stop it. So, why deprive yourself of something you really want when it all ends the same?”

Megumi can’t exactly pinpoint the reason he even came to his old legal guardian for help over, say, Nanami. He definitely should’ve gone to Nanami, at least he could’ve given Megumi genuine advice that isn’t some children’s show morale of “just tell her how you feel!” - he could’ve done that any day.

When Megumi opens his mouth to protest, Satoru flicks him again.

“You think your special one,” Megumi gags loudly at the title, and Satoru pays it no mind, “is gonna sit around her entire life not having fun and being young? Getting dates?” Satoru nods to himself when Megumi doesn’t reply, “Duh.”

“I want this to be special,” Megumi insists, both hands coming to rest in his lap now, he squeezes them together, lacing his fingers and imagining how yours would look with him instead, “I want- “

He wants and wants and wants and does nothing.

He needs to be someone you simply can’t fathom saying no to, he needs it so bad his stomach churns just like Satoru said it would.

“Alright, I know it can be difficult for you - not being me, after all,” a large hand claps on Megumi’s shoulders and he looks up to see the beaming face attached, “But trust me, kid, this whole idea of a ‘special’ confession is archaic bullshit compared to just being yourself.”

“I thought girls liked special confessions?”

“Sexist: not all girls automatically like the same things,” his former teacher shakes his head, sighing out each disappointed fiber trapped in his soul, “And if she doesn’t accept a plain, Megumi-style date proposition, then her shock and awe over a sick-as-hell graphic novel confession isn’t going to make for a healthy relationship.”

“Hm,” Megumi bites back frustrated curses, taking the words and molding them into a more conventional way that actually makes sense. He nods, “Okay.”

“Exactly,” Satoru stands back, giving Megumi room to rise from his bed, “Oh, but one thing that does help?” the older man grins wickedly, “Eat her out. Direct line to a woman’s heart is through eating her pussy.”

“Shut up,” Megumi huffs, pointing at his wide-open bedroom door, “Shut up. Shut up and get the hell out.”

“Jeez,” Satoru yanks at the already loose collar of his plain black shirt, “I thought we left teen angst behind. Just give it some thought! And also, I wanted to ask- “

Megumi huffs, falling back onto his bed, still pointing at the door.

“If,” and in true fashion, Satoru continues, maybe even a little louder (just to prove a point), “you wanted to watch a movie?”

“No,” Megumi immediately answers.

“C’mon! It’s this or paperwork I have to do.”

Megumi’s eye roll gives Satoru no more room for pleading, and so he stalks back to the living room. Dragging his socked feet over a shaggy black rug towards the door, he takes a final peek over his shoulder at the boy on his bed. Stupid mouth in a stupid pout and stupid nose forcing stupid crocodile sniffles, Satoru acts out a picturesque performance. And if his blindfold were off, Megumi is certain he’d catch big blue eyes framed by batting white lashes.

“No, “ Megumi rolls his eyes again, “‘m going out.”

…

Blushy top with faded blue bell bottoms and a shiny, thin chain that dangles across your chest, Megumi’s eyes flit away from your figure just as quick as they’d found you. Everything’s a little murky under the purple LEDs, but he thinks you’ve worn that before. He thinks you’re somehow more beautiful now. He looks away, snaking through a narrow, picture-framed hallway at Yuuji’s back to this house’s kitchen. There are no light strips strapped across the kitchen walls, simple and plain and unflattering fluorescent bulbs send a gentle cream wash over the walls.

With only a handful of straggling bodies leaning against peeling-edged faux wood cabinets and spotted countertops, there’s more room to breathe than in the hall. Red Solo cups from every teen movie nightmare decorate hands and unnerving corners. Some more anxious part of him wants to reach out and push every precarious ruby further back into secure landing, but he doesn’t.

Two women in complimentary spaghetti strap dresses flounce out of the kitchen with looped arms. They’re sunk into the plum tank until Megumi can’t see them at all anymore.

“Oh, like that!” you muse, nudging your chin towards a pair in matching floral print dresses that reach about mid-thigh, “Exactly my point.”

“That’s hardly 70s influenced,” the man in front of you - Jirou? Junto? Jouji? you don’t really recall - shakes his head, “Just flowers.”

“No, no, look at the trim,” you’re trying your hardest not to point but this guy just cannot pinpoint the details in your mind to save his life, “It’s flowy and mesh. Sort of. That’s a little more flower child era, right?”

“I guess, if your only experience in that fashion was movies,” you huff at the response and he laughs in the face of such exasperation.

“Whatever! You’re so difficult.”

“Hobby,” it’s so plain out of his lips. Like you should somehow be expecting that snark.

“Oh my God…” you can hardly believe someone could be so obtuse. A contrarian just for the fun of it, “And are you normally invited to parties for that?”

“Oh, no,” his tone, again, betrays some delusion that you should already know the answer, but this time you do already know. Who invites a conversation killer to an event? “I got dragged here by a friend. Don’t even know who the host is.”

You snicker, one hand smothering the sight of your mouth, “That makes more sense.”

Megumi can see the hand that binds, you usually don’t string it up around those you’re close with. Like Yuuji and Nobara and Maki and Miwa from Kyoto and your friends that live closer to the coast and the friends that don’t and your parents and him. So you’d think he’d know better than to let a big, gangly, clawed, green beast sprout and grow and suck away at his gut.

Even though that hand is a sign of some rising desire to be out of that conversation, he still hates being across the room when it happens. Because that’s still some semblance of a shining star behind the flesh. Some laugh or smile he’s not next to.

And it isn’t like he hates when you’re out with others. What he hates is being in the same room with someone potentially more captivating than he is.

He hopes you like him best because he’s the most familiar and drawing, and it’s disturbing when someone else might be more homely and more charming and more absorbing. He hates the curdling illness of jealousy and he hates to be this way when you two aren’t even together, but most of all he hates that maybe you’ll prefer someone else simply because they’re better at his craft than he is.

So Megumi watches and rots quietly with thick, spindling vines spreading and tangling him to the kitchen doorway as you talk to a guy whose name he doesn’t know. It’s pathetic and waning most unbearably.

“Stop staring, it’s weird,” Yuuji chastises, chunking part of his weight against Megumi’s side, an elbow shelved on Megumi’s shoulder, “Just go up and say something, if you wanna talk to her.”

“Yeah, it’s that easy,” Megumi jerks through the vines and into the hungry waters of a living room party with a snapping, starved crowd before finding the optimal spot: a plain wall with no posters or pictures to snag and smack down.

Yuuji trails after, his white shirt reflecting a blinding shade of lavender from beneath his puffer jacket. Much easier to track down than Megumi’s gloomy, funeral-grade attire. Yuuji capitalizes on the empty space so ugly at Megumi’s side, staking claim to the wall with a huff, “It is, by the way. You two are friends. Go tell her you’re here.”

“But then I’d have to,” Megumi’s mouth zips shut, head tilting as he snakes a hand through some imaginary crowd.

“I guess,” Yuuji wants to shake Megumi at times like this. He wants to shake you too, sometimes. But mostly he imagines squeezing Megumi’s shoulders and smacking him around, but he never does.

Maybe just the first part.

All out of love.

“Okay,” so Yuuji pivots, swerving in front of his best friend and taking one shoulder in each hand, “You need to do something or you’re going to sit here and be pouty, dude.”

“I’m not pouty.”

“Biggest lie in Tokyo, brother,” Yuuji purses his lips, eyes flitting to where you are, “I’ll get her over here if you really don’t want to.”

“Hm?” Megumi’s brows furrow, neck craning closer as if he could somehow mishear the man.

“Just pretend to be busy or some shit and I’ll brave the crowd,” Yuuji goes to walk away, suddenly pausing and placing a hand over Megumi’s heart, “And if I don’t return, sing songs for me by a nice lake every anniversary.”

“Whatever,” Megumi knocks away the hand but is already pulling out his phone to perform the charade. His eyes lock onto the screen and he soldiers on to not rip them away and give slight that this was planned.

…

“Do you think I could maybe get your number?”

“Oh!” no, God no - you wish you were better at saying that, “Uh,” it’s not even as if you dislike this guy, you just don’t think any conversation with him could amount past what it has.

Wow, you’re a pain in the ass! Yeah but it’s funny, right? Not if it’s on purpose. Especially if it’s on purpose! Sure, if that’s what you think. You do think it’s funny, right? Sure. Come on, it is! Sure.

And dry replies make you want to claw your eyes out more when you have to give them than when you receive them.

So when the bony fingers of Yuuji creep upon your side, it’s like the first drink of water after sifting through thick bowls and hills of sandy desert. He leans his head down into your peripheral, grinning brightly, “Miss me?”

“Yuuji!” you cheer, turning to… Junsei? and laying a flat palm under Yuuji’s chin, “This is my buddy, who I didn’t know was coming.”

“I texted you,” he pinches your side, “Fushiguro’s busy, so I’m fetching you for the night,” and you wonder if he might feel the stiffness of your muscles and the rigid air, “Sorry, man, but she’s got serious business tonight!”

“Oh,” Junzo! Junzo’s forehead crinkles, nose wrinkling at the bluntness of this cocky new stranger, “Uh…”

“See you around,” maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. You wave and let Yuuji keep you pressed to his side. You wait until you’re certain the surrounding affairs of other people drown whatever you could say to Yuuji, “Thank you for that. He was asking for my number and I just didn’t know what to say…”

“No,’” he shrugs.

“Oh, like you could’ve done that.”

“I could’ve!”

But Yuuji can do anything, so that isn’t fair.

“‘gumi!” you cheer upon getting close to the boy, arms splaying wide before wringing yourself around his neck, “I was worried you weren’t coming!”

He hesitates before having the misfortune to hear Satoru’s words once again. Be greedier. Be greedier. So he gently settles both hands on your back, pushing you chest-to-chest, “Yeah, well, Itadori wouldn’t let me stay in.”

“Poor baby,” you step back, and Megumi takes notice in how you maintain your hands’ position over his shoulders, nails picking at fluff on his shirt.

Megumi, regrettably, can still hear Satoru in the back of his head. Greedier, greedier, greedier. It chokes him up, the idea of selfishly taking you for himself. But what really grips him is the terrible way your gaze flits from his face to other men - unintentionally, he’s sure. But it drives him wild all the same.

“I hate big parties,” Megumi boldly cradles the bend of your waist with his hand, fingers splaying wide over the curve. He tugs you closer, thighs nearly brushing, “Crowd’s a pain in the ass.”

“Ah, no, c’mon, what’s that Great Gatsby quote?” who’s to say, he hasn't read that book, “‘I like large parties. They’re so intimate…’” you shrug, bottom lip tugging between your teeth when he doesn’t show any recognition, “‘At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’”

“You actually remembered that shit?”

You titter coyly, “Maybe I saw it on one of those book quotes videos. Maybe I remembered it.”

“Well, it’s a stupid quote. There’s too much noise at big parties, it’s hard to hear people.”

“You hear me just fine,” that’s just because he’s leaning closer and trying harder than he does for most people, “Besides, I like it. At big parties you can just fuck off and do your own thing, you know? At small parties there’s this expectation to be around everyone and interact with everyone and be having fun with the group.”

Finally, it seems to click, he nods slowly, “You like to get away from the crowd?”

“Yeah,” you scratch the side of your arm, then your neck, and it’s so odd how just thinking about how uncomfortable your skin is that you can get so itchy, “Hard to do that when the crowd’s five people and a dog.”

“Well,” Megumi can feel Yuuji’s stare, and it takes everything in him to not knock the kid up his skull, “If you wanna get away, I’m sure - uh,” he’s suddenly humiliated by his own hubris, “I’m sure there’s room… upstairs…”

You grace him with a patient nod, hands lowering from his shoulders to lace your fingers together, “I’m sure there is.”

…

“So…”

“So…”

Megumi nods, head slowly tilting so he’s staring up at you through his long lashes, “So.”

You lean closer, shoulder pressing and nose bumping against his, “So?”

The heat from Megumi’s cheeks wavers over you, his flesh ripe with crimson. You want to bite him. Leave a terrible mark that he couldn’t possibly cover up; maybe he’d let it bleed through his dark shirt. Maybe he’d let you lick it clean.

“You look nice,” he tucks his face down, heated skin now flush against your top. His brows furrow, uncertain, “Really nice.”

Megumi wonders what Satoru or Yuuji would do. They’re greedier than him by nature. More outgoing.

They would’ve done something years ago.

Suddenly, you grin. All sharp teeth and nails pricking over his thigh, through his pants. Your eyes stare down at him over the bridge of your nose, and you lean closer - smothering any space he’d initially put between your bodies.

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

Megumi’s eyes widen, warmth beating over his face and the back of his neck. He flails for a response, trapped under your piercing gaze, before finally settling on a response that he hopes pleases you.

“Do you want me to?”

You frown; something in his chest stings, a chord pulled awry. The tug of your lips is all a ploy, a mesmerizing color to disguise venom, “Don’t you want to, ‘gumi?” you pull away, leaning back with your hands pressed to the mattress below, “Don’t you want me?”

A cold breeze from this stranger’s open window takes up residence across Megumi’s sweltering skin. He hates it. He wants to get up from the bed altogether and slam the window shut. He wants to take you in both hands and sink himself into the softness of your skin. He thinks you’d be savory.

He wants to be certain.

So both of his hands mold to your hips, melting his exposed skin to yours.

Fingers dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, he bats his eyelashes and tucks his lower lip between fangs. He may draw blood. He cares not.

The oxygen is thin; hardly refreshing.

Megumi swallows the pooling want on his tongue, his fingers twitch against you, “Can I- “

“‘gumi…” you flatten yourself onto your back, hips tilting up into his palms, “Show me you want me.”

“Okay,” Megumi nods, air forced out of his throat through swollen hunger, “Okay.”

Once he’s gotten your pants off, Megumi presses open kisses against the inside of your thighs, following the swell to its natural apex. He digs the jab of his nose into you, lips impolitely fluttering against the seat of your panties before dipping his tongue out. Lolling the soft, soaked muscle over the clinging fabric, he feels his chest clench at how you rock your hips down into his face.

He feels one of your hands wind into his messy hair, carding through the softness. He wants to make you tug it - pull cruelly and grind against his face. Take what he gives and selfishly demand more.

Megumi groans heartily into your clothed cunt when the slickness of his saliva pulls your wetness from the cloth; when the unabashed taste of you meets his tongue.

He nearly rips your panties down your legs, settling it in a ball at his side. Heart leaping up into his jaw at the mere thought of getting his tongue into you.

Laving his tongue between your folds, Megumi licks up to your clit and circles the bud - his hips jerking down into the plush mattress when you jolt up and tug his hair. He pulls his head back only to pucker his lips and drool onto your hole, adding to the sloshing wetness before steadying his shaky fingers against you.

Sucking your clit into his mouth, Megumi begins softly. Caressing the bundle of nerves with his warm tongue, blending flat, broad strokes with precision dances of the muscle over you. Meanwhile, he slicks his middle finger into your hole and moans in response to your gasp.

When he’s sure you’re wet and stretched enough, he adds a second finger and curls them both upwards. The muscles in his arm will be aching tomorrow, but he shoves that to the back of his mind. He presses and scissors and dips inside you until the pads of his fingers find sponge, and he hits there, and there again. And again. And again. And again.

He hits there until you’re fully babbling, gushing against his swollen, pink lips and chin. And he’s starting to babble back.

Vibrations are loosely strewn together as ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘cum on me’ are bound against your clit as he nuzzles closer into your heat. Burying himself between your thighs and finding himself releasing a moan into your cunt when your thighs clenched tightly around his head. The fat of your thighs snug over his ears.

Releasing your clit from between his lips with a soft ‘pop’, Megumi flays his tongue onto the exposed nerve. Hot puffs of air leave him with each groan and whimper as his desperation to make you cum hammers over him.

Finally, you yank his hair again and snap your hips into his tongue; cunt sucking his fingers in even deeper. You squeeze around him, back arching, and his name singing from your lips.

Megumi unfurls his fingers as your cum splashes out onto his waiting tongue and chin, riding you through the hurls of pleasure until your twitching legs crash back onto the mattress. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of you before licking up your excess release from the divots in your thighs and your cunt.

Unwinding your fingers, you settle for soothing his stinging scalp with gentle pets.

Eventually sitting up, Megumi gasps for air as you do, staring down at his fingers. Shining with your wetness.

“Still hungry?” you tease, voice ripped at the edges.

“Actually?” Megumi shrugs, “A little.”

The cocky air has dissipated from your body. Once tense and lively limbs were now useless against the bed.

Megumi jams both fingers into his mouth and sucks off your cum.

“Insatiable!” you huff.

Rouge has overtaken Megumi’s cheeks - worse than before - and he can’t meet your eyes after having swallowed what remained of your soak. He leans over onto his elbow to avoid crushing you, “Only when it’s you… I don’t,” he waves his hand around, “do this often…”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Megumi has to hide his grin, almost embarrassed to enjoy being praised, choosing to take up time looking around the room you’d shoved him into.

Idol posters with one constant member litter the walls. Pink concert tickets cover the desk. And many pictures with the same two people overwhelm Megumi’s sight. He feels an unsettled chill scrawl over his skin.

“Todo is going to kill me,” he grimaces.

“Was it worth it?”

Megumi doesn’t take long to respond, already trying to think of where and when he can get you under him again, “Definitely.”

Megumi’s proper death is drowning via punani tsunami *thumbs up emoji*

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi x you #megumi fluff #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen movie marathon event

[thetriumphantpanda]

Scandal-Hit Princess

One Day I'll Fly Away - Chapter One

Chapter Summary | A scandal-hit Princess, ink barely dried on the divorce papers and a lone rancher with no interest in the inevitable media storm following her meet for the first time - it’s a recipe for disaster, right?

Word Count | 2.6K

Pairing | Joel Miller x Princess F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | foul language, descriptions and mentions of divorce and infidelity, Joel being a rancher and kinda aloof and unbothered, mentions of body image issues and stress, mentions of the British royal family, no-outbreak AU, no use of y/n, smut in future chapters but nothing else at this point.

Authors Note | Well, here she is - Miss Scandal is ready to meet you all! This has been such a labour of love for me already and I cannot tell you how excited I am to bring you this story. It’s different, but I love it, and I hope you will too! As always, thank you to @undercoverpena and @hellishjoel who have been on the receiving end of so much shouting and screaming about this! Please, if you do enjoy this, consider leaving a comment or reblogging - I will love you all forever! And you can support me further by donating to my Kofi account if you want to.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Kofi | Series Playlist

Rage is the only thing you really feel anymore. The feeling of betrayal, that’s gone. The feeling of sadness at losing the life you had, that’s also gone.The only thing that remains is the rage, bubbling slowly under your skin. You’ve been sitting in it for six months now, sitting with the injustice of it all, how someone had taken one singular conversation and flipped it on its head. The more you think about it, the more you can understand the conclusion everyone had come to, especially when the man wearing the crown had spun the story to suit him, his family, and his fucking son. Traitors, the fucking lot of them.

It hadn’t always been bad. You wouldn’t have said yes to the wedding if it had, regardless of how big the ring had been. He’d been sweet, charming, and despite the fact that your family came from money, he’d given you a life you could only have dreamed of. Sure, the endless flying around the world to shake a few hands and stand for a few photos, tilt your head down and look placid when you talked to anyone, took flowers from children and gripped the arms of people in distress, that all got tiring, but the fairytale had been all worth it really, until it hadn’t.

When the papers became more interested in who made your clothes, or the fact that the colour you’d worn didn’t suit you, or worse, sent some kind of subliminal message, or why the angle of the camera made you look pregnant when you weren’t, or how there must have been an argument between you and your husband because you hadn’t looked at him for the entire time you’d been at the ballet one time. When the focus shifted from what you were trying to do - shine a light on suffering or simply cheer people up by your presence, to trying to find fault in every single thing you ever did, that’s when you started to wonder whether it was all worth it.

Then came the control. The rules. Don’t eat that. Don’t wear that. Don’t paint your nails that colour. Don’t say this. Don’t stand like that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. And it never seemed to matter how much good you did, how many initiatives you visited or how many sick people’s bedsides you sat next to , someone always had something to pick on. You could be the strongest person on earth, but the more someone picks away, the harder it gets to be yourself. But then, that’s what they wanted wasn’t it? Take the ideal woman on paper and grind her down until she was the ideal woman in real life - someone who kept her real thoughts to herself, behaved properly and didn’t rock the boat.

It strikes you now, in the solitude of this hotel room, that by trying to mould you into that person, you became the very thing they were terrified of all along. Someone who didn’t just rock the boat, but well and truly capsized it. It’s something of a comfort really, sat in this room like a prison, a nice and comfortable prison, but a prison none-the-less, that all it took was one woman who’d had enough to start tearing the family down from the inside. And it’s not like you’d really tried that hard to do it anyway - it hadn’t even been your intention. It just so happened that you’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time and someone had twisted your words - and his - to mean something they absolutely were not. If it hadn't been for what it had cost you, a one way ticket to the middle of nowhere and a reputation in tatters, you might find all this quite funny, but alas, there was nothing about this exile - or rather banishment - that was funny rot you right now.

You slam the magazine you’ve been trying to read down on your lap in frustration. The heat in this place is fucking stifling. Who the fuck suggested Texas as a good idea? Sure, it’s a world away from where you’d just come from, and for now, the press, obsessed with you since day one, hadn’t quite figured out where you were yet, but it was only a matter of time really. Someone would tip them off for a hefty sum, poor Nancy and her hotel would be swarmed and it would be up and on to the next place to try and lie low. You’re bored and bored is dangerous.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching out your back before you stand, slip your shoes on and open the door. You look up and down the hall, quiet, no sign of Rob, head of the security detail you’d been given following your divorce. It would have been nice of them if it hadn’t been a way to keep an eye on you. You knew Rob was giving updates to the people back at home.

You lightly pad down the hallway once the door to your room is closed, taking the steps down to the reception quickly, stepping on your tiptoes until your hand traces over the front reception desk, Nancy immediately looking up from her papers.

“Your Highness.” Has become the greeting, with a slight curtsey, it’s wrong, but it doesn’t really matter anymore does it?

“Can I get you anything?”

You smile at her, leaning your elbows on the reception desk, cheek resting on one of your palms.

“Well, Nancy, I’d love some of those peaches from a few days ago, do you still have any?”

You watch as her expression drops, her skin tone draining like she’d made the biggest faux pas possible.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” She gasps, “You liked ‘em so much we used ‘em all making dessert for tonight.”

“Sounds delicious,” You smile, big and broad, charming, “What are we having?”

“My famous peach pie,” Nancy taps the side of her nose, “My mama’s recipe.”

“With ice cream?” You ask, adding a wink at the end.

“Anything for you,” Then she adds, “I can send out for more peaches if you’d like them.”

You think for a moment, because they really are delicious, especially warmed from the sun where they’ve just been freshly picked, “Where do you get them?”

“Oh, at the Miller ranch, it’s a little way out of town, but he’s famous for them.”

“You know, I might go and get them myself.”

Joel Miller scoffs into his coffee as his eyes scan the front page of the newspaper. Scandal-hit Princess in USA. He knew she was here. The town was abuzz with gossip that Nancy, owner of the nicest, fanciest hotel in town, was hosting her. Cleared out the entire top floor of rooms just for her. Restaurant closed whenever she wanted to eat. Someone had driven up to his ranch three days ago, asked for a boxes of peaches for her. Her favourite fruit apparently. He’d handed them over without much thought, asked for the usual price and then found himself with a very generous tip, folded into the back pocket of his jeans. He looks at the grainy photograph on the front page, taken through the window of the hotel, Princess sitting pretty, head down looking at the table. The photo is grainy, definitely not the best paparazzi work he’s seen splashed across the front page, but it’s enough to see her hand on the back of her neck and the hunch of her shoulders, trying to make herself look smaller than she is.

It’s a far cry from the woman he’d seen on the TV two years ago. It had been madness in his mind, that the entire world had ground to a halt to watch two people get married. Sarah had insisted that they all sit and watch it together, and he had thought Ellie would have his back, but she was just as enthralled watching her walk down the aisle. Weirdly, he remembers the dress, the white tulle, short lace sleeves, something sparkly peppered through the material, catching the light when she walks. But what he remembers more than anything, is her smile. The way she beamed when she was handed over, hand slipped into her soon-to-be husbands. It’s strange that divorce touches everyone, and no matter how big you smile, it’s always hiding something under the surface.

He looks briefly to his watch, realising he’s late for feeding and those sheep are going to give him hell if he doesn’t feed them soon. He downs the rest of his coffee, shoves the newspaper into the recycling box, he doesn’t really read it anyway, even when the news isn’t splashed from cover to cover with gossip about what that damn princess did or didn’t do, so he’s definitely not going to indulge it now, and then he’s out into the truck and heading down to the barn to stock up on feed.

It’s a strange world to him, this ranch life. For as long as he could remember he’s wanted to do it. Maybe it’s the solitude it offers him, the way he can finally think for himself after years of raising his daughters. Maybe it’s the way that unlike his daughters, his flock of sheep tend to do what they’re told, unless it’s this morning and he’s twenty minutes late to feed them, then they’d gather around his legs, bleating senselessly until he drops their feed onto the ground to appease them. What he really thinks is that it gives him a purpose. He grows fruit, peaches mainly, but a few other crops, that he gives to Nancy down at the hotel, or offers to Steven who owns the bakery, fruit that feeds his community. He shears his sheep, gives their wool to Betty and Ines to make clothes with. Sat out here, on the fringes of town, with more land and space than he knows what to do with, an empty house no longer filled with his daughters, this place gives him a reason to get up each morning. They all need him in some small way.

Once he’s finished with his morning chores - feeding the sheep, plucking the ripe peaches from his trees into crates, fixing up some of the fences that a few of the more boisterous sheep had knocked over and serviced the small tractor in the barn - he jumps back in his truck, the warm Austin sun, blazing at midday, licking at his skin, bringing sweat beading across his body, and goes back to the house. He’s just stepping out of the truck, rubbing his dirty hands with a rag from his back pocket, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, when he notices a car pulling in to the bottom of his driveway, driving slowly up to come to a stop at the front porch of his house.

As he rounds his truck, he can see that the car is nicer than anything he’s ever seen in town. Sleek black, clean as a whistle, windows dark so he can’t see into them. It sits idling on his driveway until he climbs the steps at the back of the house, rounds the porch and stands at the top of the steps, leaning against the side of the stairs, fingers looped in one of his belt loops.

The front passenger door opens and bulking man gets out, sunglasses over his eyes, black t-shirt and jeans and a bald head. He nods at Joel, one of those classic nods that men understand when they give each other, then he opens the back door wide. Joel sees one leg step out of the car, then another, long, loose-fitting white trousers, then the rest of the body comes into view. He can’t quite believe it when he realises the person standing in front of him, pushing her sunglasses onto her head so she can look right at him, is the same person from the front page of the newspaper. The People’s Princess herself.

“Joel Miller?” She asks, voice sweet, lilting, as she holds out her hand for him to shake when she’s stood close enough to him.

He looks down at her hand - perfectly manicured, soft, by the looks of things, never seen a day of work in their lives - then looks at his, bigger, covered in filth, hard and calloused, definitely not the kind of hand she wants to be shaking. He thinks this must be muscle memory for her, the only work she knows how to do is hold out her hand and talk nice to people.

“I gotta bow or somethin’?’

She smirks at him, drops her hand, “I don’t think that’s necessary these days.”

“Can I help you?”

“Well,” She starts, voice sweet and peppy enough to start to annoy him, “I’ve been eating these peaches since I got here, the sweetest, juiciest I’ve ever eaten, and we’ve run out,” She brings a foot up to rest on the bottom step, Joel immediately stepping forward to stop her coming any closer into his bubble, “And I’ve been told you grow them, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” She tilts her head, “Might I buy some more?”

“How many d’ya want?”

“A crate, please, if you have enough to spare.”

Joel spins on his feet, takes heavy footsteps back around the house to his truck, picks up the crate of peaches he just picked, the one with the most fruit in it and makes his way back to the front of the house where the Princess is still waiting.

He offers her the crate, holding it out in his hands. He watches as she turns to the man who opened her door for her, nods her head towards the crate, watches as he takes it from Joel. She stands up on her tiptoes as the crate passes her, plucks one of the peaches from the top.

She looks at Joel, right in his eyes as she bites into the fruit, obscene slurping sound in the air as she sucks the juice into her mouth, bringing a finger up to catch the drops that fall onto her chin, making sure she doesn’t drip it onto her pristine white suit.

“How do you grow them to be so perfect?” She asks, taking another bite from her peach, teeth dragging through the delicate skin.

“Plenty of sun,” Joel shrugs, “Good soil.”

She hums, nods her head in agreement, “Well, thank you for these,” She turns back to the man who has just put the crate in the boot of the car, nodding at him, “I’m sure I’ll be back for more.”

The man offers Joel some money, enough for at least three crates of peaches, but he finds he doesn’t argue, takes it like he did the first lot, slips it into his back pocket. He doesn’t wait for the car to leave, just turns on his heel, heads into his home, praying that her promise to come back was an empty one - if there’s one thing that Joel needs less than a hole in the head right now, it’s a hoity Princess sniffing around.

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x F!Reader #Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou smut #Joel Miller tlou #Joel tlou #Joel Miller the last of us #ODIFA #Pedro pascal #Joel miller Pedro pascal

[bimbobaggins69]

Fooled round and fell in love (part three)

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: lite smut 18+ MINORS DNI, cocky Eddie, some dirty talk, allusions to reader being depressed, cussing, smoking, use of y/n

A/N: I cannot believe the amount of love I’ve gotten on this series, i appreciate everyone’s kind messages and comments 🫶🏻 part 4 will be released sometime after the new year.

as always thank you angel baby @myobmaya literally my number one hype man, I love you so much 💋

The next morning you wake up feeling anxious and exhausted as the night before had you tossing and turning, playing out every scenario and every little thing that could go wrong when you get to Eddie’s

But nonetheless you decide to start your day, you go downstairs and greet your mom, who luckily just brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and you needed a pick me up

After taking a couple bites of bacon, you tread back up stairs with your nice warm coffee. You put some music on and clean up your room, your little depressive episode left it in pretty bad shape

Once you’ve cleaned to your liking, you pick out what you’re going to wear today, regardless of everything that’s happened you still love Eddie and you want to look good for him whether he notices or not, so as you skim through your closet while powerslave by Iron Maiden plays through your speakers you opt for a Metallica “metal up your ass” shirt with a yellow and black plaid mini skirt, you decide to leave your legs bare pairing the outfit with some slouch socks and white keds.

You take a shower and think to yourself that you should smoke the last of the weed you got from Randy, needing something to take away the jitters of seeing your best friend later, you keep going back and fourth with your self in your head, should I just rip off the bandaid and tell him? Or should I just go in there with a smile on my face like my life hasn’t been a shit show these past few weeks.

After getting high enough, you decide it’s a good time to start getting ready. Doing your makeup, keeping it natural but still accentuating the parts you want to stand out, you do your normal curlers in hair routine getting the perfect amount of body, once you throw on your outfit and decide you look good enough you make your way downstairs to ask your mom if you can borrow her car.

“Hey mom, I’m gunna head to Eddie’s to hang out, can I take your car? I’ll only be a few hours.” You say with the slightest set of puppy dog eyes

“Sure sweetie, can you just pick me up a carton of cigarettes on your way back?” Your mom asks

“Yes, I can do that!” You say almost relieved

You did not feel like calling eddie and asking him to pick you up even though you knew he would, you think bringing your own car just in case you do grow the balls to tell him your feelings and you need to get out of there as fast as possible, so taking your moms car was the best option.

You pull into forest hills, taking deep breathes before stopping in front of the familiar trailer you grew up hanging out in, you glance around seeing Eddie’s van, the van that is permanently ruined for you now. Before you get lost in those thoughts you decide it’s now or never you have to face Eddie sometime, the only consolation is that Eddie doesn’t know that you moaned his name while Randy was making you cum. With that thought you open the car door and get out making your way up the steps to the front door of the trailer

You hear music coming from the speakers in Eddie’s bedroom, so you try your best to knock loud enough for him to hear. After the 5th knock you hear foot steps and the lock being fiddled with

Eddie swings the door open, he’s shirtless with his sweatpants sitting low on his hips showcasing his delicious trail of hair leading down into his pants while an unlit joint hangs from his lips.

Jesus, you could feel the wetness pool between your thighs “curse him for looking so damn good!” You think

He looks you up and down eyes lingering on your legs and upper thighs, his eyes shoot back up to yours as he says

“Hey, princess. I wasn’t sure if you were gunna show up” he said while removing the joint from his mouth and shooting you a genuine smile, almost like he was excited to see you

“I said I was, didn’t I?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as bitchy as it did

You push past him walking into the trailer and heading to sit down on the couch

“Yeah, but you’ve mastered the art of avoiding me recently, so I just figured” he says while shrugging his shoulders

“For the 100th time I have not been avoiding you!” You say while rolling your eyes

You lie again for the 100th time

“Mmm, whatever you say babe.”

Princess, babe? What the fuck is up with these pet names today, you think to yourself.

“So,” you say trying to break this weird tension you feel in the air “what movie are we watching?”

Eddie looks at you confused for a second and then he remembers the excuse he used to get you here

“Oh um, you can pick, I left some movies out over there” he says while pointing his head towards the tv and where the vhs player sits underneath it

“Ok, cool thanks” you say

You can’t understand this weird awkward tension going on, you’ve never felt this with Eddie ever, and it’s making your stomach knot up even more then it was

He holds the disregarded joint back up and says

“Do you wanna smoke?” He asks but his eyes don’t meet yours

“Is that even a question?” You say trying to be funny and ease whatever the hells going on

He put the joint between his lips and takes out his lighter, lighting it up and taking a hit that seeps out of his nose and mouth.

After you decide on weird science you pop the video in and turn to make your way back to the couch you hear a clatter on the floor in front of you, some of the tapes had fallen, so you turn back around and bend over to pick them up, completely forgetting you have a short skirt on and that Eddie is right behind you on the couch with a great view of half of your ass cheeks and a black lace thong

His eyes go wide and as much as he wants to be a gentleman and look away, he can’t, his eyes are trained on your ass until you stand up and make your way back over to him

Snatching the joint out of his hand and bringing it up to your lips, you take a hit as you let the smoke bellow out from your mouth

Eddie turns to you and says

“Hey, I actually wanted to talk to you about something”

When he says that your stomach drops, what could he want to talk about that requires him to be so serious? He’s never serious.

“Okay, what about?” You say handing him back the lit joint

“Well,” he says and then takes another hit, once he starts talking the smoke seeping out between his words “I was at Ricks the other day, cause I was running low and anyway he um, he told me what happened between you and Randy”

Your eyes shoot up to his, looking at him confused

“What do you mean?” You say as you start closing in on your self making yourself seem smaller

“Oh my god no, no please no” you say to your self “this cannot be happening”

“Y/n, he told me you said my name while you and Randy were in the middle of I don’t know whatever you guys were doing.” Eddie says almost bitter

When Rick told him, he couldn’t help but feel jealous, yes you said his name but you were almost in the middle of having sex with Randy, that made his chest hurt, but apart of him couldn’t help but feel cocky about the situation.

Why would you say his name? Were you thinking about him while Randy was touching you? What does that mean? Does it mean you want to be with him in that way? Eddie had so many questions

“Oh my god, is this why you asked me here Eddie? To humiliate me some more?” You spit out

“No, c’mon I would never do that” He says sincerely

“Whatever, I shouldn’t have come over” you say while getting up on your feet

“Y/n, come on I’m just trying to see what’s going on, where your heads at?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it Eddie, I just wanna move on from it, ok?” You almost shout at him

“But-“ he starts before you’re interrupting him

“No, I can’t do this, I gotta go!”

“Why are you so angry about this?!” His voice becoming irritated

“You know what Eddie, fuck you!” You shout at him

“Yeah, you’d like to wouldn’t you?” He spits back with that cocky fucking smile you could just slap off of his face

You don’t even know what to say so you turn around and head for the front door but before you reach it eddie is grabbing you by the arm and turning you around almost smashing your body into his

You both look at each other for a few seconds trying to gage the others emotions

Looking up into Eddie’s eyes makes all of the anger in your body melt away, the look in his eyes is something you’ve never seen before, a look you wouldn’t mind seeing more of

“Is that what you want?” He whispers down at you

Instead of saying anything you decide fuck it, as you crash your lips in to his, his body tenses up at first, surprised at your actions but once he realizes what’s happening his body melts into yours, deepening the kiss, and grabbing your waist to push your bodies even closer. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip and he allows you to enter, tongues meeting in a sloppy but passionate kiss, you let out a small moan telling Eddie everything he needed to know in that moment

He picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist taking you back to his bedroom that you’ve been in so many times, but never like this

He drops you onto the bed and stands back up staring down at you, like you were his prey

Your skirt was rucked up around your waist exposing your almost see through black lace panties, his jaw clenched when he looked over your body. Fuck, he wanted you so bad

He climbed back on to the bed slotting himself between your thighs grabbing them and opening them wider to accommodate him, he stairs at you directly in your eyes and says

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me”

Those words make your hips buck up towards his, feeling his hard dick against your already soaked pussy

Making you moan out the most sexiest of moans Eddie has ever heard, and he’s heard a lot

“Yeah? You feel it too baby?” He says with that same cocky smile

You don’t even care anymore about sounding desperate or really about anything in this moment

So you bite your lip looking into his eyes as you moan out an “mmhmm”

He leans down and begins kissing you again, it’s so hot yet sloppy, spit is coming out from the sides of both your mouths but it just adds to turning you on even more

You break the kiss as a line of spit still keeps your lips connected

“Please” you whisper to Eddie

“Please what baby? What do you need me to do?” He whispers back

“I need you to touch my pussy” you say with a burst of confidence

“Fuck” Eddie says to himself “you need me to rub that pretty little clit of yours baby?” He says so fucking sexy you could burst

“I bet your already so wet for me, huh?”

God he’s such a cocky son of a bitch, but you’re loving every second of it

“Yes, Eddie I’m so wet for you, only you”

He lifts his head up stopping his hand movement on your thigh

“Yeah? Only for me? Is that why you said my name? You wanted me to be touching you instead?”

Your cheeks heat up at that question you’re already so far gone to care about lying

“Yes, I thought about you the whole time” you moan out as his finger tips graze over your pussy

“Mmmm baby, fuck, you could’ve just told me you wanted me to fuck you”

“But s’kay, we’re here now and I’m gunna take such good care of you”

part 4

THANK YOU FOR READING

PLEASE COMMENT & REBLOG

•tag list•

@sidthedollface2 @ajeff855 @i-h4temyself @tlclick73 @mmvnsons @emma77645 @saramelaniemoon @big-ope-vibes @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @melaninjhs @manda-panda-monium @vulcrum332 @bambi-munson @arioneway @daleyeahson @demeterlindavis @seventhlevelofhell @aysheashea @marvelcasey05 @twirls827 @kittykaylat1987 @user12875671 @sznofdawitch @81rain @starrywhitenight @supercali20 @eddielives1986 @micheledawn1975 @erinsingalong @f-me-reid @ladydragon4890 @ireidsmut @hllfrclb @harrys-tittie @loritate7311 @yogizzz @sammyunicornpoop-blog @ilovecupcakesandtea @gingertimelord @ladysteddie @fancyghosttrashhero-blog @lelenikki @trikigirl271 @silasforest @joekeeryswife @lechera-con-leche @bebe0701 @m-rae23

IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST LEAVE A COMMENT 🖤

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things

[saltywinteradult]

“there is no way in hell Alicent is going to abandon her children” why not?

Aegon’s a rapist and Aemond’s a sociopathic kinslayer, why should Alicent be forced to stay loyal to them?

I understand Rhaenyra why loves Jace, Luke and Joffrey because what’s not to love, they’re perfect. But I cannot see Alicent genuinely loving Aegon and Aemond after everything they’ve done.

It would be 100x more radical and feminist for Alicent to choose Rhaenyra, to put herself first, to stop letting men control her.

Goodness me, I hardly know where to start with this.

I don’t know how you think parental love works, nonny dearest, but it sure as hell isn’t "I won't love my children if they're not perfect people". That’s generally not how parenthood works. And Alicent loves her children. She was sold as a child bride and endured years of rape for the sake of producing those children. Raising and protecting them has been the main purpose of Alicent’s life for twenty years. How could she not love them?

In case you need proof, Alicent physically attacked Rhaenyra, arguably the big love of her life, because she was that angry (and rightfully so) about her son being maimed. Alicent went along with usurping Rhaenyra's throne, despite knowing it would lead to war and ruin what little chance she had left of mending things with Rhaenyra, because she loves her children and is desperate to keep them safe, and she believes that Rhaenyra would kill them to secure her claim to the throne. (Whether that is true is a different discussion - what matters here is that Alicent believes it.) Alicent stepped in front of a dragon to protect Aegon, for crying out loud. Aegon being a rapist clearly tarnished him in her eyes, and yet she still stepped in front of that dragon to protect him. If that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about Alicent's love for her children, I don't know what will. So I don't know that this is a case of Alicent being "forced" to stay loyal to her children, as much as it is Alicent choosing to stay loyal to the people she loves most in the world.

I would also like to point out that Rhaenyra's children are very much not perfect. Jace and Luke both participated in bullying Aemond. In case you forgot, it was Luke who literally mutilated and permanently disabled Aemond. It doesn't matter if Aemond was in the wrong for claiming Vhagar or calling the Strong boys bastards. He wasn't, but even if he was, cutting out someone's eye is not a thing that good people do. So I don't know where you got the idea that Jace and Luke are "perfect", nonny dearest, but it sure as hell wasn't from HotD.

I'm not going to argue over whether Luke maiming Aemond is more or less bad than Aegon raping Dyana or Aemond killing Luke (which is his fault, even if in this version of the story he didn't intend for it to happen). That's not the point. And please note, I am not making a single excuse for Aegon raping Dyana or Aemond killing Luke. I'm simply pointing out that it is extremely hypocritical to claim that Aemond and Aegon are unloveable because of the terrible things they do, but Jace and Luke are loveable when they both do terrible things as well.

And here's the thing. Rhaenyra clearly loves Jace and Luke anyway. Why wouldn't she? They're her kids and she loves them flaws and all. So why is it any less believable that Alicent would love Aegon and Aemond? Why are Jace and Luke loveable despite their terrible deeds, but Aegon and Aemond aren't? And if Alicent choosing Rhaenyra, whom she loves, would be a feminist storytelling choice, why would it be any less feminist for her to choose to stay with her family whom she loves just as much? Why are Alicent's choices only Feminist and Radical when they benefit Rhaenyra?

Even if it were true that Alicent abandoning her family and becoming lifetime president of the Rhaenyra Fan Club would make for a more feminist story - which, to be clear, it isn't - my first priority is not for the story to be The Most Radical And Feminist™. I want the story to be good. And I do not think that making Alicent abandon her family for Rhaenyra would make for a good story. It goes completely against Alicent's characterisation to have her abandon the family we're shown time and time again that she loves more than anything else. Not only would that be a betrayal of her character, it would undermine the narrative as a whole.

For better or worse, these two women and their relationship have been made central to this story. They are foils and they've each been made into the figurehead of their respective teams in every way, down to the marketing of the show. It would simply be bad storytelling to throw off that narrative balance by having them team up. It would completely upend the story being told. The point of making Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship so central to the show is that despite their love for each other they were still driven apart and forced to become enemies. Having them reconcile would undermine the point that this story is a tragedy.

#alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #rhaenicent #rhaenyra x alicent #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #anti lucerys velaryon #house of the dragon #hotd

[libbee]

Some Astro Observations 🪐

1st house stellium really do have an in-your-face presence. They can be attention seekers without appearing like one. They can be assertive on others without realizing it. Self-reflection is pretty hard for them because they justify everything they do as the natural personality that they cannot change. If others have a problem with them, it is them that need to adjust.

Sometimes, I really do internalize that life is pre-written. "Free Will" is a feeling which is only just a feeling like happiness and anger.

10th house stellium may not always have successful careers or are overachievers. But they can be really great people's person. They may know how to sell their persona, their personal transactions are also quite professional because of how calculative and opportunistic they can be.

Saturn in 8th house does not always give long life. It can give long disease though. It can give life situations where the solution is delayed beyond tolerable limits.

2nd house placements really do value valuable things whether it is possessions or people and even ideology. These are people that may keep touch with all extended family because every person is an asset to them.

Scorpio risings are quite extreme in their persona. Very talkative to very quiet. Very goofy to very irritated. They may be a rollercoaster.

One time I saw a native being very authentic about their life problems and financial weakness. They were too much honest about their problems telling in detail everything wrong in their life. Wow, does this person really trust me so much? Turns out they are a Cancer stellium. This detailed sharing of life story was actually a subtle manipulation to appear harmless and innocent, so that people dont notice their mind game and cunning flavour of personality.

Being in the good books of every single person is essential to a Libra. Their self definition depends on how other people tell them who they are. It is important that people tell them good things about their personality because a Libra can't stand appearing like a bad person.

8th house moon too have extreme emotional drives. This can lead to addictions to things that give extreme pleasure such as food, music, entertainment, social media. They feel everything to the extreme and nothing less.

Capricorn moon really suppress their emotions in order to bear responsibility and appear strong. Their vulnerability can show in other ways that connect the psychic life to physical life such as being obese which shows suppression of feelings.

How we project our own mental images on others and judge/analyze them. But if we withdraw the projection, we realize it was actually our own personality that we saw in others. Even the very bad and worst and evil qualities that you notice in others but refuse/fail to see in yourself.

If you have 7th house lord in 8th house, do warn your partner that they are going to undertake lots of responsibilities and unpredictable ups and downs on your behalf and as being associated with you. Relationship is not just romance and flirting. It is life changing because you become responsible for the well being of someone for a lifetime. You stand with them through thick and thin. And 8th house gives challenges like anything. Though the goal is to tame your mind and neutralize the feelings. Pain or pleasure, all is same. Praise or insult, all is same. 8th house challenges can make you a deep thinker and deep observer who goes to the root of everything. You will realize that it is the bad people and the misfortunes that are the actual eye openers to the truth of life. "But the right way to wholeness is made up, unfortunately, of fateful detours and wrong turnings." ~Carl Jung

#astrology #astro community #astro observations #astrology observations #astroblr #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology blog #shadow self #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astrology notes #astrology community #astronotes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology