#~V: Fallout Of Darkness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

targaryenrealnessdarling · 7 months

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A Perfect Score - Chapter 8 - The Fallout | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: You wait for whatever secrets Larys might have, but they say things get worse before they get better. Right? | Word Count: 8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: angst 💀, smut straight out the gate, semi-public(?) sex, degradation, praise, aemond being a sexual menace, dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), creampie, mentions of emotionally abusive relationships (both platonic and romantic), mentions of injury resulting in loss of sight, lots of swearing, feelings of inadequacy

A/N: oh lord here we go

It had been a week since you’d last heard from Larys, and the anticipation of what he would return with had your palms sweating as you double tapped your phone screen, seeing if any notifications were there to greet you.

Nothing.

Your heart raced with worry, and it was difficult to not show it around Aemond, now that the both of you were attached at the hip. Every quiet moment, Aemond would try and squeeze in some kind of gesture before inevitably his family would walk in. But as the days went on, instead of biting his lip, putting distance between you and his cheeks blossoming being seen romantically with you, he lingered, making it clear to whoever chose to disturb either of you that he didn’t care if they saw.

He was slowly beginning to care less about that, focussing said care on something else.

As proven by your time together on the tour, Aemond was insatiable.

You honestly don’t know how his dick hasn’t fallen off yet, or that he’s not on some kind of blood pressure medication, by the way he enjoys fucking you into oblivion any spare, quiet moment he gets. Not that it’s something to necessarily complain about. But the more time passed, the more your nerves began to spike, wanting to desperately have him define what was going on here.

Helaena seemed to give the impression this was strange behaviour for him. With the exception of the person Hel so lovingly called ‘that fucking dinosaur’, Aemond’s conquests had been just that. Casual. No strings attached. Sometimes not even necessarily because it had to be, but because he’d shut it down before it went any further.

You didn’t ask Aemond about that.

Even Alicent had mentioned as such, that she’d never seen her son so happy and content.

So why was there this sicky feeling in your stomach?

It was still so early in the morning that it was dark, the faintest of dark blue in the sky to remind you that the sun was just about to come up. And here you were, not in bed, not snuggled in bed sheets. But skates on, all limbered up and ready to practise.

In lieu of Aemond, you shoved your headphones in and leant against the ledge on your forearms, idly hovering on the ice, scrolling through the various news articles.

Martells: Trouble in Paradise? Qoren in trouble after leaving Sunspear Strip Club with blonde stranger Aemond Targaryen and his muse. He fell first but she fell harder, our source says. Otto Hightower seen giving flowers to Floris Baratheon as she is discharged from hospital

The last one made your nose crinkle.

Course he was seen doing it.

You almost jumped out of your skin and dropped your phone in your hands as a firm, tall body bumped into you from behind, genuinely winding you as your form became sandwiched between it and the ledge.

"Fucking-" you pull out your earphones and throw a look over your shoulder. Knowing exactly who it is.

Aemond smiles apologetically, but not really that sorry, and snakes his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, looking all innocent. But what isn’t so innocent is the way he’s so unabashedly pressed up against you.

You raise an eyebrow, "You done sneaking about?"

He huffs a laugh, the air blowing on your neck as you pretend to scroll on your phone to ignore him, “Was hardly ‘sneaking about’, you’re just going deaf”

He reaches over and scrolls back up, back at the news article you’d ignored a second earlier.

Aemond grins, “Pfft, Aemond Targaryen seen bringing his lover home to meet his family” he recites from the article's title, “do you think they have any idea what actually goes on, hm?”

You roll your eyes partly as his hands drop to your hips, squeezing gently, managing at the same time to grind his hips against your backside. You can’t really ignore the heat that’s beginning to gather in your belly when he does that.

You smirk at him over your shoulder, “Shouldn’t we be practising?”

His hands still make their way over every curve he can find. His mind miles away from said practice.

“Hm. I thought we could practise something else”

You catch his wrist, cheeks bright red as he tries to slip his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, “Aemond!” you whisper-shout, “there’s security cameras!”

“They don’t work” he muses, pressing a few open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he turns his head into you, wilfully ignorant of how embarrassed this is making you, “lucky for us”

His hand slips completely beneath the leggings, expertly sliding between your legs to swipe two digits along your folds. A quiet breathy mewl slips past your lips, your backside pressing softly into his obvious hardness, knowing full well he’ll likely punish you in his own way for teasing him.

“See, now you’re all wet for me” he whispers in your ear, teasing his fingers past your folds just barely, prodding at your slick entrance, “I’ve got myself a needy little slut, haven’t I?”

“Aemond, please -”

You’re not entirely sure how he manages to do it. How you instantly turn to mush when he touches you. When he speaks to you.

You can scarcely believe you ever really hated him.

Sometimes, you wonder if it ever was truly hate.

For either of you, it couldn’t have been.

You feel the way Aemond hums deep in his chest, “But I’m having so much fun teasing you, baby” he coos quietly, pressing the pads of his fingers in tight, soft circles on your clit, spreading what slick had gathered over it. The motion has a stuttered breath slipping past your lips, your hips sinking on him, searching for more contact.

You’re more annoyed than anything that he’s having such a good time watching you squirm, and embarrassment blooms hot at your cheeks.

“Turn around”

Your eyes snap open. His voice is so different, and how easily he’s able to flit from soft, teasing to harsh and domineering always manages to make your knees feel weak.

He pulls his hand free, not even waiting for you to do as he says before he spins you around, shoving your lower back hard against the ledge and kicking your legs apart with one of his. His eye is focussed entirely on the task at hand, jaw tight and his expression completely flat. He looks almost angry, but you know he’s just impatient.

You swallow thickly as he rolls the leggings over your hips, taking the underwear with it so it hangs around your upper thighs. He’s so rough with you that even now, before he’s done anything, that his fingers leave little red imprints where he’s been.

“I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy for days, princess” he muses, slipping to his knees, heedless of the ice leaking freezing water onto his sweatpants, “we’ve not had a spare moment, have we?”

You almost outright sob in want when he presses his face to your core, inhaling your scent deeply like he’s not been between them every day since you arrived back at his home.

“ - fuck - princess -”

You press your lips together to stifle a moan when you feel his tongue part your folds, licking a long stripe over your entrance, a low moan vibrating through your core. Your grip, white-knuckled on the ledge, tightens. As does his on the fleshy skin of your thighs, keeping them wide apart for him to feast on your cunt.

You’re not sure who is really enjoying this more, but based on the sounds Aemond is making while he drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, lighting sucking on the sensitive bud and moaning while he does it, it would seem he is.

Airiness floods your head and that same pressure is beginning to tighten up in your gut when he grazes his teeth softly against your clit, redoubling his efforts and diving down to fuck you with his tongue, caressing the top of your slick walls with it. He groans as you reach one hand down and tighten it in his hair, ruining the bun he’d had it in. Aemond takes it in his stride, shuffling closer to you and nuzzling his nose against your core, providing pleasure in both ways with the way his sharp nose keeps butting against your bundle of nerves.

Tugging slightly on his follicles, the coil in your belly winds tighter, and you feel your body sinking repeatedly onto him, moving your hips in micro-movements to increase the contact.

“Fuck - Aemond -”

He smirks against you, giving one fat stripe over your folds before breaking away briefly, “You gonna cum for me, princess?” he asks quietly, before moving back in to pleasuring you.

You’re only able to get out hard pants before finding the energy to reply, “Yes, yes…” you chant, your hips finding him over and over, chasing that high.

Aemond pulls away, moving to stand quickly and crashing his lips to yours, his tongue moving against yours and allowing you to share in the heady, exciting taste of your arousal. You moan softly into his mouth, fisting his shirt to pull him closer, putting all of your disappointment at being denied your peak into kissing him back, nipping at his bottom lip harshly as he pulls away.

Instead of looking annoyed at how clearly annoyed you are, he simply smirks, his tongue darting out to clear his lips of any arousal or saliva, soothing where you’d bit him.

“Patience, princess”

He spins you around again before you have a chance to bark back, pushing you over the ledge with a hand flat on your back. Your skates bang against the side and you nearly lose your balance, before Aemond presses his legs against you to keep you stable.

“What the fu-ow!”

Heat blooms on your ass when Aemond slaps it, soothing it with his palm afterwards. It aches there but also between your legs, where more arousal has gathered, desperately needing friction. Or just something.

Aemond huffs a laugh, managing to pull down his sweatpants just enough to sheath himself deep inside you in one smooth motion. The sudden intrusion has your walls stretching to accommodate his size, the slight prickle of pain stoking the fire that had been neglected in your belly. You gasp, grappling forward as he bottoms out and begins immediately pistoning into you, spearing you apart on his cock like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“ - fffuck, baby - so fucking tight-” he breathes between thrusts, his hips smacking harshly against yours, “ - so fucking wet for me, always so wet for me, aren’t you-”

You can only manage staggered moans in reply, your body constantly hurtled forward by the brutal rhythm of his cock driving into your heat over and over. You hope to any god out there that he doesn't actually want a proper reply. You’re not sure if you’re even capable of that right now.

“I like fucking you in your skates, with all your clothes on -” he breathes hot against your ear, leaning over and changing the angle, so he hits impossibly deeper, “-just my dirty, little cockslut, aren’t you-”

“-Aemond, please-”

“What” he replies harshly, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. He almost seems frustrated with how erratically his hips push against your backside, with the sounds to match, “gods, you’re so fucking needy for me - just like to be properly fucked, don’t you, princess -”

Your skates drift across the ice with every movement, breasts pressing near-painfully into the ledge. Being fully clothed like this, while you’re meant to be working, feels so dirty, so erotic, that it fans the flames inside you, pushing an all-consuming orgasm through your core, numbing into your limbs, with a wild cry of his name.

“That’s it, good girl - love it when you cum for me, fuck, love being inside you - lov-” he babbles incoherently, before his own voice strains, your core squeezing him so tightly that he spills deep inside you, filling you with his warmth.

You feel his heaved breaths at your back, trying desperately to suck the air back into his lungs.

He stays nestled inside you for some time, only moving away and pulling out after a long moment. You whine softly at the loss of him, hearing the fumbling of him pulling his sweatpants back up. You do the same, covering yourself on shaky legs, feeling the thrum of your own heartbeat through your core.

He’s quiet.

“Aemond?-”

Before you can really ask him what’s wrong, his arms wrap around you from behind. It’s a far cry from the way he was holding/fucking you earlier. It’s soft and tender, like one wrong move and he thinks you’ll break in half. He holds you close, your back pressed against his chest, where you can feel the steady beat of his heart, calming down.

His hands clasp at your front, his chin resting at the crown of your head.

“You okay?” you ask, covering his hands with yours, soothing his hand with your thumb. The action makes your stomach roll, an unfamiliar feeling being stoked within.

You feel him nod.

“Yeah, yeah…fine” he says, barely above a whisper.

Even though he’s not convincing anyone, you don’t prod or pry for more information. You know him well enough that he’d appreciate just your understanding and silence. So that’s exactly what you do.

You just stand, in a comfortable silence, pressed tightly against each other.

Eventually, he begrudgingly did start practising the finals routine with you. And though both of you were pumping hot in your blood with lust after the quickie, there was always, always something unsaid. You could tell there was something Aemond wanted to say, but didn’t have the courage to form the words.

The last time either of you were at the ice rink at his home, the shared touches were electric, almost painful, and there was then an underlying hostility.

But now.

It felt completely different.

And you didn’t know what to do.

The press were onto you. Both of you, like hounds. Like they could smell something was going on. They’d even started constantly hanging around outside the security gates, waiting for someone to come out, or to catch a glimpse of the supposed couple.

Sat on the bench, unlacing your skates, you look up at Aemond as he pulls on his shoes.

“Just gonna freshen up before lunch, see you inside?” he asks, pulling on his jacket in preparation of being rained on.

You can hear the rattling of the incessant raindrops on the metal roof of the ice rink.

You spare him a smile and nod, “Course”

You don’t know why it surprises you, but he bends down, one hand tugging your face up to his to press a tender, almost loving kiss, as quick as it is, to your lips. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It has you frozen in your own body as you watch him walk away, slipping out the door, the rain pelting on the ground outside becoming briefly louder as it swings shut, dropping you into silence.

Your lips are warm from him, a deep point in your belly is also.

Just as you slip your shoes on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Before any other feeling, a lingering sense of unease rolls through you.

Larys Strong has shared a link with you.

Swallowing thickly, you stare at the screen for what feels like hours. And then a follow up email, just with text.

Here is all I have.

With a shaky breath, you swipe his email away and click on the link, which takes you to a Google Drive. Anxiety twists in your chest, feeling very much like you are doing something you shouldn’t. But the not-knowing is driving you crazy, so the loading bar at the top of the screen somewhat aggravates you, impatience humming in your blood.

Two folders.

_Floris Baratheon Incident

And one with your name.

With shaky thumbs, you decide to click on Floris’ first.

Several screenshots of conversations, email exchanges, text messages, even a voice message.

Do something to her skates.

O.H

You immediately recognise the phone number as his.

Otto Hightower sabotaged Floris Baratheon.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, dread rising with the anxiety.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He had not only wanted Floris out. He was willing to physically harm her, pay someone else to do it, so that her contract would be broken.

The voice recording is largely muffled, making you press the speaker side of your phone right to your ear. But from the sounds of it, it’s Otto.

“I know it’s good to have a Baratheon on our side of the competition, but Floris is nowhere near good enough to launch Aemond into the Olympics. While she likes him, he doesn’t like her. We need some kind of…integrated relationship if we’re going to convince the judges. There’s nobody there on our side anymore, since Viserys died”

He goes on, the recorder muffled. Perhaps in someone’s pocket.

“I can’t break her contract without paying her. She needs to be gone, as soon as possible”

The tone of his voice. Talking about Floris like she’s not a person, makes your blood run cold.

And that’s all there is in that folder. Such a short conversation, like they were just talking about the weather, but really they were planning on how best to ruin a young girl’s life, career and hobby. All for the sake of not paying her because they didn’t like her chemistry with Aemond…

Which begs the question.

Why you?

You don’t really want to admit how sick it makes you feel to see how many things there are in the folder titled with your name. It feels…intrusive. Like people know secrets about you that you, or even Rhaenys, doesn't even know.

After all figure skating isn’t just a career, it’s what you love.

You don’t want them to ruin that for you.

You can feel your breath pick up, hot tears sitting behind your eyes, and the beginnings of a migraine slipping into your head. Low background.

Bad circumstances.

Is that really all you were? A fucking pity choice?

Not because you were just good at what you did?

Not just because they wanted your skills.

But because they wanted to raise someone they deemed lesser to their level, for sympathy votes.

Bile rises in your throat at that.

Everything had been meticulously planned. Every movement. Every placement.

Everything.

The magic of that first night with Aemond feels ruined.

You feel preyed upon. By Otto and whoever he was collaborating with to make this happen, as if they were right there listening against the door and taking turns looking through the keyhole.

And then Otto’s words almost a week prior…

‘It is just business. Aemond knows this’

Surely…he couldn’t have been in on this the whole time.

Right?

You grip your phone tightly, hearing the case crack in your grip.

There is…humiliation. Betrayal.

But also anger.

You don’t even register the hammering of rain against your face as you stride past the garden, clad only in the exercise clothes you had been in all morning. By the time you’ve slid the doors forcefully aside, your hair is half-soaked, your leggings as well, blood feeling like fire with the anger that courses through you.

You know he's here tonight.

He's always lurking about somewhere.

You push the doors to the library open, the oak banging against the doorframe with a rattle. Otto looks up from his desk with surprise, with an expression that immediately reminds you of the subtle, yet annoying way Aemond used to look at you, before his eyebrows lower and his lips curl upwards, as if amused.

"Caught out in the rain?" He asks, chuckling, completely ignoring the frown your face is set into.

Phone gripped tightly, you take your time walking in before you're at his desk, chucking the device haphazardly in front of him. The list of screenshots litter the screen.

"What the fuck do you call this?"

Otto takes one sweeping look at your phone, not really even reading any of them.

But somehow knowing full well what they are.

"Is there a problem?"

"Is there a prob-" you scoff, laughing incredulously.

If you don't laugh you'll cry.

"First of all, fucking sabotaging Floris' skates?" You throw the words at him, "she could be permanently injured! Her career could be-"

"She had no career" he interrupts, which is slowly driving you mad, "she could not take criticism. Thinks she's better than she actually is"

"Oh, and that's an excuse, is it? She broke her fucking ankle. She might never skate the same and you treat her like…well you treat her like a fucking commodity, like you do the rest of your family!"

"How I conduct business with my family is of no matter to you"

Your hands brace the desk, not backing down one bit.

"I am not your fucking family" you warn, "which brings me to that. Low birth? Common? Bad circumstances? Who the fuck do you think you are exactly!"

"I scouted you for your skills"

"And hoping that me and Aemond would fuck into the bargain. Improve his image, did it?"

"That was merely a bonus"

"Is this what you do to all the women in your life? Force them into the arms of someone else so you don't have to deal with them? So that you can climb higher without having any talents of your own?"

Otto's eyes narrow.

"You don't know a thin-"

"I know you forced your own daughter into the arms of a fucking judge, and she faced the repercussions.

I know you forced Helaena to skate with Aegon, even though she'd be happier doing Singles. But she's too nice for her own good to really hate you for it.

And I know, you forced me to work with Aemond, just hoping, just praying, I'd be stupid enough to throw myself at him. You must have been shaking in your fucking boots when he didn't like me at first"

Otto seems more than anything to be annoyed that you've interrupted him.

"And what do your grandsons get? Aegon fucking hates skating and Aemond-" you scoff, "-he was emotionally abused by a woman decades his senior and you forced him to talk to her"

Otto is quiet.

"Gods forbid Daeron ever chooses to compete professionally. He's the only one who doesn't hate you yet"

Otto stands quickly, brushing your phone back towards you.

"If you release those screenshots my lawyers will destroy you" he warns, "you'll never be signed again, and you'll certainly never make the championships again, I'll make sure of that"

Your mouth opens to bark back.

"And you'll never see Aemond again"

But that makes you freeze and go cold all over. And it might not be the rain sticking to your clothes.

"No contact. Nothing"

You swallow thickly, clenching your fists. Anxiety and fear rolling through you. Your heart drops into your stomach. And Otto wears a victorious grin, which only serves to make you want to vomit.

"You used me for fucking pity" you say, voice strained, trying desperately not to cry.

"And I made you a champion," he responds coolly.

Is that all he ever fucking thinks about?

Winning?

Even at the cost of his family hating him?

"I'm not entertaining this"

Otto chuckles, "You are bound by the terms of our contract. And I'm sure there's plenty of…other reasons why you'd want to stay anyway"

How could he weaponise Aemond at you like this…

You take several steady breaths.

"Fuck you. And fuck your contract"

"What the hell's going on?"

You swing around quickly, heart dropping at the sound of Aemond's voice. He stands against the doors, looking worriedly between the two of you, his eye wide and concerned. The ends of his hair are wet from the shower you suppose he's just taken, looking much better than you, as the rain drying on you makes your hair frizz up.

Wound tightly with both anger and betrayal, laughing is the only thing you find the effort to do, confusing both the men in the room.

"Yes, why don't you tell Aemond what you've just told me?" You smile, eyes filled with tears in Otto's direction, snatching your phone from the table just as he's about to do the same.

"It is no concern of yours, Aemond" Otto replies distantly.

"If it concerns her then it does concern me"

When Aemond says that, any warmth associated with the affection you have for him turns to dust. Just the sheer weight of the situation makes your body feel like lead, incapable of letting any light in.

"I can't fucking stay here, not with him" you shake your head, the situation entirely overwhelming, trying to just get as far away from Otto Hightower as possible.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby - please -" Aemond crowds you, intending to help, his hands on your arms to try and make you just talk to him. His features are set in worry. It's somehow endearing.

But with everything that's happened it just feels like too much, like the walls are closing in on you. Like one touch and you'll explode.

"Please, Aemond, I can't stay here after all he's -"

You don't even have the strength to finish the sentence before floods of tears pour down your cheeks, your throat tightening up.

How you even find the energy to swing the front door open is beyond you.

The last thing you see before walking away from the Targaryen House, is Aemond in the doorway, looking out at you walking through the rain. He wears a look of sadness and panic.

You only briefly hear the echo of Alicent berating someone deep within the house, her malicious, emotional screams bouncing off the walls. You see Helaena, joining Aemond's side, her face sullen. And Aegon, sat in an armchair, looking not at all surprised at the situation, with his hands clasped in his lap.

You can't pretend it doesn't hurt your heart to leave. But you simply cannot be in the same vicinity as Otto right now before doing something you regret.

Without Arryk or Criston's car, you're resigned to walk in the pouring rain to the security gate. Almost not minding the rain compared to what's going to happen.

The press, waiting outside with their raincoats on, all scramble to their feet. Camera flashes clicking loudly against your ears, crowding your space even further, uncaring of personal space. Microphones and voice recorders join them a moment later, accompanied by a waterfall of questions.

With Aemond, he could work the press easily, paving a path wherever he went by virtue of his position in the industry. But now, by yourself, it pains your chest like a stab straight to the heart, the notion that now, as you fight off the press to pave your own escape, tears rolling down your face, that you are very much alone.

"The number you have called is currently unavailable. Please try again later"

You choke on your own tears and breath. Four times you've called El, to ask if it's okay to come back to the flat you used to share.

Your mind was so blurry, and messy, you'd forgotten she was on holiday with her family. The annual Baratheon get-together. And perfect weather for it too.

For a brief moment, you're almost mad she's not here.

But know that it's just because how utterly lonely you feel, and she'd always been there before to offer a shoulder to cry on. An instant ramen to make. A shitty movie to put on. All to make you feel better.

In the rain, everything looks different, but especially through the misty gaze of the tears that glaze your eyes.

You bend down to slip the spare key from under the doormat, relieved it's still there. She'd probably forgotten about it anyway. It takes a few genuine tries with your rain-slick hands to get the key into the door, but you manage.

Only to be hit immediately with the nostalgic smell of your apartment.

It'd been so long.

It makes you want to cry even harder. It feels warm. Not at all the cavernous, marble, almost clinical feel of the Targaryen House. But cosy, comforting, like a big warm hug, despite nobody being in.

It smells like those Fresh Cotton candles she loves, the basic bitch.

You laugh sadly at that.

You miss her.

The normality. Her late night voice memos. You miss all of it, before everything became so complicated.

Even though you have the whole flat at your disposal, you can't find the energy to do anything useful like cook or shower.

So with rain soaked clothes, sticking uncomfortably to your skin, you just curl up on the sofa, the TV turned down low, just as a means of filling the silence. You almost don't want to go into your room. Seeing it all empty will just upset you even more.

You ignore the frequent buzz of your phone on the sofa, pulling the blanket up to your chin, just entirely numb.

The rain taps incessantly on the window, the way it hits the concrete with such velocity has a faint mist rising from the streets. It's all so grey outside, with only the hum of passing cars and their warm headlights to fill the colourless space as the sun, hidden behind endless clouds, gives way for darkness.

You sigh, feeling your throat tickle with the onset of a cold, probably from walking home in the torrential downpour.

It's so quiet you barely hear it. And the third time it happens you furrow your brows and look over at the door.

Perhaps El wasn't able to go after all?

You wipe your face, striding over the fallen blanket piled on the floor, with no energy to pick it up, and shuffle to the door, undoing all three locks that you and El had installed after an attempted break-in.

The uncomfortable humid waft of the outside is the first thing that hits you, as well as a spray of hot rain.

The second is cold.

Cold all over.

Aemond stands, or rather slumps against the doorframe, one hand rested flat against it and completely out of breath, as if he’d been rushing.

Aemond Targaryen, who hates going out in the rain, hates getting his hair wet, hates walking anywhere that isn’t necessary, prefers to take Arryk’s care even a few minutes down the road and absolutely hates not looking his best, stands there completely drenched, just entirely quiet. Rain has soaked through his clothes, sticking to every square inch of his body.

Like him, the air is taken out of your lungs as well. Frozen in place, and unable to utter a single thing as your throat closes up once again.

Aemond can’t seem to say anything either, he just looks down at you, his expression not unreadable, but so unlike him that you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen it.

Except you absolutely have.

That night Otto forced him to speak to Alys Rivers, he wore an expression of panic.

Shoulders rolled forward to appear smaller.

Eyebrows furrowed in worry, his good eye downcast and sullen.

The expression of being entirely lost.

He’s still being pelted with rain when you step forward, dissolving entirely into silent tears, your arms holding his torso so tightly, you’re surprised he reciprocates.

Everything else fizzles out. And you hate how cringy it sounds in your head, but all there is is just you two, and this moment, his arms, wrapped snugly around you, almost entirely encompassing your form. Such tenderness from him he has only afforded you a handful of times.

But this. This is something else. Not just tenderness.

But neither of you dare to approach that.

It just feels too good to be around him, to have him like this. You don’t want to think about anything else.

Aemond feels how you tremble, trying to hold in the sobs, so much that it hurts in your chest.

“Oh, Princess…” he soothes, one hand moving up to stroke the back of your head, your face firmly planted against his neck.

You wonder, in the hours since you stormed out, what he now knows.

So you don’t open the floodgates just yet.

Giving one last squeeze, you pull away, wiping the rain and tears off your face with the back of your hand and gesture inside.

“You want to come in?..”

He almost looks shocked you’ve asked, but understanding that both of you need to talk.

As if by habit, Aemond toes off his shoes before he shuts the front door behind him, following you into the warm, cosiness of your shared apartment with El.

Instinctively, you load the kettle with water and click it on, a few silent seconds passing before it begins to hiss with life.

“Where is she?” he asks, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking around at all the little nick-nacks on various shelves. Not cluttered, but busy enough to feel like a home.

Your turn, having been staring at the kettle, “What?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, the wet fabric dragging across his skin, “Your flatmate. El, right?”

How did he remember that?

“O-oh, um…she’s away with her dad” you reply, swallowing thickly with nerves and turning back to pour a mug of tea for yourself and a coffee for Aemond.

You don’t see it, but there’s a subtle smile on his face as he watches you, for not having to ask him how he likes it.

“Thanks” he says softly, as you slide a mug over the counter in his direction.

Seeing Aemond in this kind of environment is nothing short of weird.

Having seen him in environments professionally, such as ice rinks and competitions, as well as being inside his home, surrounded by space and expensive items, gives you an impression of him akin to a celebrity, someone out of reach.

But here, in the tiny apartment, lit with brown and amber hues, where the living room and the kitchen are quite literally the same room, he looks so comically tall and broad, he almost swallows every bit of the room he’s in.

But it’s nice, seeing him in a different light.

He seems different.

He leans on the arm of the sofa, facing you in the kitchen, taking a scalding sip of his coffee, which is nowhere near drinkable, and then leaning over to pop it on a coaster on the coffee table.

It’s hard to contain the smile that drifts onto your face. At least he’s kept his manners.

And then, Aemond clasps his hands, sighs and does that thing where he tries to look small again.

“Just after you left, Alys came to the house”

Just like that, your heart is frozen again. But instead of dread, there’s anger.

But not at him.

“Why?” you ask, warming your hands with the mug.

Aemond shrugs, not meeting your gaze, “Probably to cash in on whatever petty shit she can get her grubby hands on”

You’re glad he speaks about her with some level of aggression. She deserves more than that.

"She probably saw the articles. Pictures of you leaving. Thought she might be able to worm her way back in somehow now that Otto is on his ass" he adds.

Fuck. They work fast.

Maybe it's for the best you didn't check your phone. It's probably Rhaenys, wondering what the fuck is going on.

Brief embarrassment runs sharply through you.

He takes a breath, “Otto told us everything”

You raise an eyebrow, “us?”

He nods, “All of us. Mum. Aeg, Hel”

You blink, your throat feeling sore from not letting the emotion out, keeping it bottled inside until you have the answers you want.

The answers you need.

“Did you know?” you ask, voice wavering. Feeling awful for even suggesting it.

Aemond looks up at that, his mismatched blue eyes reflecting the warm amber light of the room.

“I knew…that he was scouting, and had his eye on you to replace Floris” he answers slowly, watching your face, careful about his words, “but, honestly, that’s it, baby, I promise”

The term of endearment has your tummy doing a tiny backflip.

You let that absorb for a moment. Grateful that Aemond is affording you the silence for it.

Clearing your throat, “But you didn’t know why?”

He shakes his head once.

“I hate to ask it, it’s just becau-”

“Because I said all that shit about, class and…who you were, I know” he interrupts, but with a voice that softens, “and I understand why you’d assume that I knew”

He stands, taking short, careful steps towards you, his fingers playing with each other, “But I promise, I didn’t know…any of that shit. I admit, I could have done more, and I could have been better to you from the beginning, and protected you from all this.

And I’m sorry for that”

You look up at him, breath hitching for a moment having not realised how close he is.

“And I will always be sorry for it” he adds, discreetly reaching for your hands.

His gaze is downcast, looking at your hands in his.

“There’s so much I need to tell you”

You realise that this isn’t just going to naturally occur.

That he is asking for you to listen to him. That for so long, nobody bothered to ask how he was, or how he was dealing with everything. The abuse from Alys. The chronic pain.

Nobody had ever really asked him.

And after everything, how could you not?

He at least deserved to get it all off his chest.

“Let’s sit down, okay?”

You sit on the sofa, nibbling on your thumbnail as Aemond speaks, surprisingly animated, and without hardly taking a breath. Only doing so every now and then to sip the rapidly cooling coffee.

He starts essentially from the beginning. The situation with this father. The absentee. Who couldn’t give a shit about the four children he had with Alicent if he tried. Often he forgot their names and pretended sometimes, as if they didn’t exist. Eventually, Alicent was not exempt from this behaviour.

You learn that this ‘friend’ Alicent was referring to so lovingly when you returned from the semi-finals, was in fact Aemond’s older half-sister, Rhaenyra. He explains as much as he can from his own perspective, tagging it all off with ‘well, how would you feel if your best mate started getting it off with your dad?’.

Point taken.

Rhaenyra never went professional. She moved abroad, remarried, had more children.

But not before kicking the wasp’s nest, as Aemond put it.

You, of course, know of Jace, being friendly with him and seeing him every now and then, practically in the same line of work. But even less about his younger brother, Luke, since he was several years younger and still unsure about the industry.

After all, once you're in, you're in.

But you didn’t realise that Aemond was related to them in some capacity.

And that when they were all children, having grown up together, after a largely innocent duel using fake, wooden swords, Luke, no more than a child who didn’t know any better, bought an actual knife. A steak knife, no less. One that Aemond vividly remembers, as the serrated blade tore through his skin after a scuffle.

Of course, Aemond knew it was accidental, but that wasn’t exactly the first thought running through his mind at the age of 10.

Rhaenyra paid the medical bills and swiftly left the country on the first flight out, but not before some choice words were had between her and Alicent first.

It sounds spectacularly messy.

And Aemond had been stuck in the middle of all of it. Having lost sight in his left eye, a scar lining his face, spent weeks in hospital without his own father there and a new chronic condition as a result.

No wonder he’d felt so alone.

Like any of the siblings, figure skating was impressed on them from an early age. And Otto, as per Aemond’s explanation, had jumped at the opportunity when Aemond was doing well despite not having sight in one eye. So much so, that he’d spent a large part of his formative years just competing. Not doing things that a normal teenager would do.

Having to grow up far too quickly.

He’d started wringing his hands at this point in the story. The tell-tale rolling of his shoulders forward and his leg bouncing with nerves.

“I regret the day I arrived in Harrenhal. Shit ice rink anyway”

Enter. Alys Rivers.

By his description, she’d clocked him the moment she saw him. Even now, he says, he does a double take whenever he sees a woman with long black hair, his heart going fast.

He doesn’t go too in-depth. Only that she made him feel validated at first, said all the right things.

Did all the right things as well.

But he wasn’t ashamed to admit that. He was more ashamed at how much he had bought into it all those years ago. How she’d attempted to make herself like a barrier between him and his family, especially Alicent, and for a long while, it had worked. He hadn’t stepped into the Targaryen house for months, spending every waking moment with Alys and only Alys any moment he could get.

What shocked you the most, was how it managed to last even six months.

He had said that she’d been his first sexual partner, and that she used that against him multiple times but he never really saw it until afterwards. Said that ‘she was the only one who was going to love him. Because she loved him unconditionally, despite his deformity’.

That made you feel ill.

How could she say something like that?

It had all ended quite forcefully. Otto had discovered that Alys had managed to get a hold of Aemond’s bank details, taking little bits and pieces from the shared company account, before getting too ahead of herself, and withdrawing large chunks at a time. Eventually exposing her long-standing behaviour.

For a while, Aemond tried to justify it. Saying they were gifts.

It was only when he returned home and Alicent broke down crying, that he said he’d finally sobered up, after months of being forcefully drunk on Alys Rivers.

Otto was less sympathetic. Urging him that ‘as a man, it is your responsibility to deal with this on your own’.

“He knew the pregnancy thing was bullshit…” Aemond carried on, the blanket somehow ending up on his lap, shared between you, “...but she was trying anything and everything to shake the allegations that she was ever stealing from us, from me, rather”

He sighs.

“She just wanted to get anything she could out of me” he adds, his voice wavering, “and she would’ve done…’til there wasn’t any of me left”

You shake your head, “Otto was cruel making you talk to her”

Aemond swallows visibly, moving his shoulders at the memory.

“I said I’d cut off ties with Otto as soon as I can”

Your eyebrows raise, the empty mug almost falling out of your lap.

“What?” you half-shout, “Aemond, I-I don’t want you to just do this because of-”

“It’s not just that, it’s fucking - it’s everything he’s done to us” he adds, his gaze meeting yours, as if to emphasise, to make real everything he is saying, “-everything he’s done to me. Aeg. Even Mum…”

You can tell by the way he trails off, that it’s a sore subject. Perhaps one broached many times, but never resolved.

He fucking loves his mother so much. Empathises with her pain like he shares in it. Sometimes his long, sad expression, reminds you of how she often looks.

“I’ve wanted to for a long time” he mutters, “I fucking hated you for it then, but you were right, I never liked it. I just did it because I thought it would…achieve something, I don’t know”

You know what he means but daren’t not say it.

He thought that pursuing it professionally would buy his love. Both his father, then Otto.

One he’s not had from any male figure in his life.

You swallow over the lump in your throat. It must be so much weight on him. And it shows, in how light he looks even now, telling you the very bare minimum.

“What he did to you was the last straw…”

Your eyes flit up, to meet him. That same rolling feeling spreads over your tummy, like opening the curtains on a sunny, summer morning and bathing yourself in light.

His look right now is both intense and soft at the same time. Willing you to believe him in case there’s any indication that you don’t.

“...Mum was in floods of tears when she found out. Said you were good and kind. That you never judged us. Never judged her” he adds, words breaking with emotion in between.

You huff, playing with your fingers "high praise then" you joke.

But he smiles despite it, “...she loves you, you know”

That cracks a smile from you. The first one in hours. Your cheeks burn from the tears and rain on it, and yet it feels nice. You watch with barely-concealed, softened joy as Aemond cracks his own smile, one side of his lips turned up just ever so slightly, in his classic Aemond-esque sort of way.

You wouldn’t trade that smile for the world.

“I do too”

Air is sucked from your chest, mouth entirely dry, as the sheer heft of what he’s said begins to sink in.

Did he really just say that?

Am I in a fever dream?

He nods, "I think I have for a while"

You want to speak, to hug, to kiss him, but nothing will come out. Your body won’t move in accordance with your brain, and your hands get pins and needles all of a sudden. Without you realising, warmth seems to have made its way down your face, dripping off your jaw.

All the while, Aemond just sits there, watching your reaction.

Fuck.

You love him too.

And before you even know it, in place of words, your lips are pressed desperately against each other, hands clamouring for any bit of clothing or skin you can find. Aemond groans as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss and allowing tongues and teeth to wrestle against each other. His hands cup your ass as he tugs you over his lap, breathing heavily into your mouth with each break for air.

Instinctually, your hips grind on him, feeling him harden instantly beneath the damp sweatpants, your hand reaching down to stroke his length to full mast with your palm.

His hands are everywhere. Thighs, waist, breasts, tangled in your hair. While his lips map out your entire body where he can from this angle, leaving marks with his teeth over the column of your neck, still rippled to attention from goosebumps. You squeeze around him with your thighs, directing all your want into just that movement, to tell him how much you need him.

“Bedroom” he breathes, “where?”

You answer as your hands dip beneath his shirt, smoothing over his tacky skin, feeling his muscles contract.

“Down the hall, first right, but there’s no bed sheet-” you gasp as he lifts you, pressing needy, open kisses to your swollen lips.

“I don’t need fucking bed sheets for what I’m about to do to you”

Aside from when he deposited you on the bed, the mattress squeaking comically, making you look at each other and giggle like two little love-sick teenagers, Aemond is entirely soft, tender, taking his time like this is the last moment he’ll ever get to properly be with you.

Even the act of undressing is painfully slow and sensual, despite the clear hunger in both of your gazes. Everything he does now, has your stomach fluttering pleasantly. Irreversibly.

And it’s something you’ll never get sick of.

He was never one for making too much noise in bed. But here, as his cock pistons into your desperate heat over and over, your former bedroom alight and hot with sex, Aemond whimpers, whines and groans, depending on what’s going on, right against the crook of your neck. One hand on your throat, his fingers encircling it and tightening the closer he gets to the height of his bliss, pleasantly robbing your brain of just the right amount of air to feel like you’re floating.

Your orgasm builds embarrassingly fast, from everything, the heat of the moment, him.

And doing this knowing he really wants to.

Nearing the peak of your pleasure, his thumb snakes between you and rubs your clit in tight, careful circles, hurtling you towards the precipice. All while his pelvis smacks with the sound of your arousal against yours, with your legs pulled tightly around him, and his grip not letting go.

With each thrust of his cock into you, he kisses your neck, and utters.

“I love you”

Then your jaw.

“I love you”

And finally your lips, just as your pussy tightens around him.

“ - fuck - I love you -”

He pulls his head up to look down at you just in time to watch as you fall apart, white-hot pleasure running like fire in your veins as your pussy flutters around his cock, taking him over the edge with you. His hooded, lusty gaze focussed entirely on you, until his brows furrow himself, lips hanging apart only slightly, as he finishes deep inside you.

The only sound is hurried breaths, and every now and then the mattress squeaking as a result of only the tiniest of movements.

Aemond huffs, leaning up on his elbows, the chain slipping out beneath his shirt and dangling in your face, the chill of the metal against your chest making you shudder. His hair, already having been ruined by the rain, hangs in lazy wavy strands around his face.

An exhausted breathy laugh falls out his mouth, his warm hand making its way back up to your face, sighing as he sees you lean your cheek into it.

He looks so perfect like this, is the first thing that comes to mind.

But the words that come pouring out your mouth are completely and entirely natural.

Really, the point of no return.

The only moment Aemond Targaryen remembers of his life before loving you, is when you say so clearly, with such devotion, adoration and care.

“I love you too”

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514

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batbabydamian · 4 months

Note

Hey, I started reading Robin son of Batman because of your recommendation (I literally have a print of your post on my phone to not forget lol). Honestly? One of the best things I ever read!!!

Thank you for opening my eyes! Damian has been one of my favorite characters for over a year, but I didn't read/watch much of him because of school, life (and probably an executive dysfunction in the mix).

Maya is incredible. I loved her.

I haven't finished all the issues yet, but do you have any other recommendations?

WAH this makes me so happy, i'm glad you still gave it a shot even with how busy life is!! ;v;

i’d love to give reccs, and i’ll try to go a beginner friendly route! tbh you can pick up whatever here, but since you've read R:SOB i’d immediately follow up with Batman and Robin (2011) #1-8! this first arc is what’s referred to in Maya’s introduction, and it's just. so good.

Main Books

Batman and Robin (2009)

Dick as Batman with Damian as his Robin!

#20-22 Tree of Blood: Dark Knight vs White Knight arc is done by Tomasi and Gleason, the team for the next Batman and Robin series

*Batman and Robin (2011)

Bruce and Damian figuring out their relationship as both Batman & Robin and father & son

imo you can enjoy the ride and read straight through this but i’ll add context to avoid as much confusion as possible since there’s the occasional tie-in or offscreen events, like Damian’s death nbd

Batman Incorporated (2012) #1-10

events leading to Damian's death - affects Batman and Robin (2011) from issue #18

kind of a tough read especially with how Talia's written, but a lot of iconic bits like Batcow, Damian's vegetarian declaration, Alfred the cat, "We Were the Best, Richard."

Robin (2021)

another self-discovery adventure, particularly after Alfred’s death and a fallout with Bruce (and questionable writing choices from his last Teen Titans run)

Batman and Robin (2023)

currently ongoing! after a number of events, Bruce and Damian are back as a duo

Damian Dynamics!

Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7, 10-12

arc where Damian meets one of his first Gotham friends, Colin Wilkes

Batgirl (2009) #5-7, #17

Steph and Damian dynamic! "the bad cop, worse cop" dysfunctional duo

Red Robin (2009) #13-14

early Tim and Damian dynamic that of course includes fighting haha. funny enough, accidentally my first intro to Damian LOL

Teen Titans (2003) #89-92

Dick!Batman has Damian join the Teen Titans. Start of Damian and Rose Wilson dynamic that’s extended in Robin (2021)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Damian meets Cass and has a brief team up

Gotham Academy (2015) #7

Damian meets Maps Mizoguchi! they have a few other meetings, but outside of that the series itself is a great read!

Robin War Event (2015)

Robin War (2015) #1, Grayson (2014) #15, Detective Comics (2011) #47, We Are Robin (2015) #7, Robin: Son of Batman (2015) #7, Robin War (2015) #2

Duke and Damian dynamic! not exactly beginner friendly but these are the main issues in order for the event! you can also read the TPB version for everything including Tie-Ins

Nightwing (2016) #16-20, #42, #43

#16-20 Nightwing and Robin arc!

#42 Dick on a mission to save Damian! the one appearance of "Wiggles" the dragon

#43 Dick, Roy, and Damian team-up

New Talent Showcase 2018 "Catwoman: Pedigree"

Selina, Damian, and Alfred the cat

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding - Robin vs. Ra's Al Ghul (2018)

Selina, Damian, and Cheese Viking - Damian's fav game shown in Nightwing: Rebirth (2016)

Monkey Prince (2022) #1-4

Marcus Sun Shugel-Shen's main comic, but Damian features as a fun dynamic here before they're in more serious circumstances in Batman VS Robin (2022)/Lazarus Planet event

Superman (2016) #10 - 11

the beginning of the Super Sons! featuring Maya!

Super Sons (2017)

solitary arcs but there’s a few event tie-in issues later

Adventures of the Super Sons (2018)

literally more Super Sons adventures lol galactic shenanigans yeehaw

Challenge of the Super Sons (2020)

Super Sons time shenanigans feat. the Justice League

Robin 80th Anniversary (2020)

"Boy Wonders" - brief Damian feature as Tim considers his next step in life

"My Best Friend" - Jon's thoughts on Damian and their dynamic

"Bat and Mouse" - refers to Damian's unfortunate Teen Titans (2016) run at the time of release which follows up with Teen Titans Annual #2 where Damian briefly gives up Robin

Extra Comics!

Superman/Batman (2003) #77

Kara and Damian in a Halloween team-up! also the appearance of "Li'l Matches" lol

DCU Halloween Special '09 "Cavity Search"

Damian out on a solo mission for Halloween night. Immediately after is Tim's Red Robin story "Then and Now: Our Father's Sins" which is more somber in contrast but also a good read!

DCU Halloween Special 2010 "Robin the Vampire Slayer"

a Dick!Batman and Robin story featuring the vampire Andrew Bennett

Cursed Comics Cavalcade (2018) "The Devil You Know"

Halloween themed comic with a sweet short story of Damian alongside Solomon Grundy

DC's Terrors Through Time (2022)

"Trick or Treat" a Super Sons Halloween story

"The Haunting of Wayne Manor" Damian and Deadman story - in the end, Boston kinda refers to Nezha's possession of Damian in Batman VS Robin (2022) which was happening at the time of this release

Batman: Li'l Gotham (2013)

lighthearted series that instantly makes me smile with the silliness and Dustin Nguyen’s art i love this dearly

Secret Origins (2014) #4 "A Boy's Life"

a retelling of Damian's origin story

Detective Comics (2016) #1001-1005

Batman and Robin vs the Arkham Knight (unrelated to the game)

Truth & Justice (2021) #6/#16 - 18 Digital First version

cute story of Damian’s birthday! Juni Ba’s art is so fun!!

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration (2021) “Special Delivery”

short story about Damian! and poisoned pizzas. completely forgot the artist Sami Basri drew Rebirth Damian here before catboy Damian lol Cass’s story “Sounds” is also cute! Marcus makes his first appearance in "The Monkey Prince Hates Superheroes"

DC VS Vampires (2021)

Damian makes appearances throughout this elseworlds book, but the one-shot DC VS Vampires: Hunters (2022) is vampire Damian-centric!

Batman: Black and White (2021) #5

“Father & Son Outing” short story written and drawn by Jorge Jimenez!

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #20-23

#20 “My Son” Talia and Bruce focus

#20 - 23 “The Murder Club” 4 Parts

Tiny Titans (2008) #33, #39, #45, #47

a few appearances but SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM

*Batman and Robin (2011) reading guide

i'm mostly trying to avoid the "what did i just walk in on?" kinda feeling when i first started reading comics LOL i'll list the comics where events take place, but you don't necessarily have to read them to go through this book since things are usually explained as quickly as possible in the first page or so

#0 Someday Never Comes

Talia and baby Damian before he grows up to meet Bruce

#1-8 Born to Kill

just an incredibly solid arc for Bruce and Damian!

#9 Court of Owls Tie-In Issue

Damian VS a Court of Owls Talon. While Bruce is occupied with a home invasion of Talons, Alfred makes a call for allies to protect targeted Gotham public figures from Talons. During Batman (2011) #1-11

#10-12 Terminus

Damian challenges the previous Robins sans Steph

Batman Incorporated (2012) is occurring at this time where Talia has placed a bounty on Damian and there's small mentions of that

#13-14 Eclipsed/Devoured

mostly solitary arc! end of it leads into the Death of the Family event

#15-16 Death of the Family Tie-In Issues

Damian and Joker face-off... Alfred's been kidnapped by the Joker, and Damian goes looking for him. During Batman (2011) #13-17

#17 Life is but a Dream - Death of the Family Epilogue

a sort of subconscious check-in through the dreams of Damian, Alfred, and Bruce. Nightwing (2011) #17 features Damian encouraging Dick after Death of the Family events

#18 Undone "Requiem"

Bruce dealing with Damian's death from Batman Incorporated #8

other reactions to Damian's death: Dick in Nightwing (2011) #18, Tim in Teen Titans (2011) #18

#19-23 Denial, Rage, The Bargain, Despair, Acceptance

Bruce through the stages of grief with some batfam appearances in each. also introduces Carrie Kelley into continuity as Damian's acting tutor.

Batman (2011) #19-20 also addresses Bruce's loss

#23.1-23.4

these could be skipped - villain stories, also related to Forever Evil event.

#24-28 The Big Burn

optional Batman and Two-Face/Harvey Dent arc, #23.1 is part of this story!

Damian's resurrection and return

#29-32 The Hunt for Robin

Ras took Talia and Damian's bodies from their graves, and Bruce goes after him.

-> Robin Rises: Omega

continues events from #32. if you don't want to jump to this, basically, Glorious Godfrey and a bunch of parademons from Apokolips are here for a chaos shard which Ra's put in Damian's sarcophagus. at some point, Bruce gets a hold of the shard where he sees a vision that leads him to believe Damian can be resurrected. Godfrey ends up taking the shard, along with Damian's body since it was emitting the same energy.

#33-37 Robin Rises

Bruce hellbent on retrieving Damian from Apokolips and reviving him

-> Robin Rises: Alpha

necessary to read and continues events from #37! Damian's back with a bang lol

#38-40 Superpower

Damian adjusting to having superpowers and being alive again

Annual #1 2013 Batman Impossible

sweet (and funny) one-shot of Damian sending Bruce on a meaningful scavenger hunt around the world while Damian gets to be the cutest Batman for a bit

Annual #2 2014 Batman and Robin: Week One

one-shot takes place during Damian's absence. after Bruce and Alfred find a mystery gift left for Dick, Dick recounts a story he had told Damian from his Robin days.

Annual #3 2015 Moonshot

one-shot Batman and Robin adventure on the moon!

...and of course after Batman and Robin (2011), Damian's story continues in his first solo Robin: Son of Batman (2015)!

#damian wayne #ask #sorry for R:SOB promo again but i need this title attached to Damian's name as much as B&R 2009/2011😭#thank you for the ask anon!! really am so happy you were able to find the time to read RSOB and enjoy it!! i genuinely cheered 😭#i hope some of these comics give you many emotions and/or a smile!! <3 #if anyone would like to correct something or include some Damian comics please feel free to comment or add to the post!!#sorry if the reading guide is an intimidating wall of text hhh after i finished it i was like...this does not look beginner friendly LOL 😭#Damian's Teen Titans run is beginner friendly but it's so frustrating to read his character being regressed especially after RSOB #ig i would only recc the first 5 issues just for Mara asdsfg #super/bat 77 comic rlly made me wonder how Williamson could've made Damian sound so stiff now compared to his first time writing him?? rip.#also i love how there's so many Halloween stories here lol #maybe?? i'll do a guide for Damian's intro since those were the most confusing for me when i really got into his comics #i think his most recent appearances are a bit easier to figure out on your own but i don't mind doing a guide for that too if needed!#OOF tags got long lol i may be a bit nervous posting this bc i'd like ppl to read more Damian but worried i may have goofed somewhere #but hopefully this is helpful to anyone curious about peeking at his comics!!

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calder · 5 months

Note

hello! i stumbled across your blog very recently and am curious as to what the tag v13 means- sorry if you’ve answered this before, i’m on mobile!

fallout is based on wasteland. wasteland is based on a canticle for liebowitz. a canticle for liebowitz is about catholics bickering about fiction in the dust of america for hundreds and hundreds of years. it is about religion and the concept of a dark age

VAULT 13: A GURPS Post-Nuclear Adventure was the ip's name in the conceptual phase. the very first VAULT 13 worldbuilding pitch doc--a timeline--spoke of a Dark God, a term deployed throughout Fallout but only contextualized in the fallout bible, which does not actually use the term. Laura has a special voiced line just for Tell Me About: Dark,God: "The what?"

Project V-13 was interplay's original Fallout Online, which was cancelled by the publisher bethesda like fifteen years ago now.

pylon v-13 is a location at the end of Fallout 76's map where a character from Project V-13 built a time portal and disappeared. it is the most cursed location in the game

by accepting its premise, we arrive at v13 lore, the rejection of canon in light of canonical time travel and multiverse, which has always been a thing, and is also literally a joke. it's the realization that fallout is defined by creativity, interpretation, expression, and argument. it is the understanding that non-canon lore and controversial lore are basic and vital pieces of the history of the setting. and it's the begrudging admission that fallout is a cultural legend, irreplaceable and beyond anyone's control. fallout makes sense to everyone and demands our imagination. it always will

enabled by all the most hated and rejected lore, my characters are time-travelling supervillains who know the things i know, and scour the wastelands endlessly to expand their knowledge. this diegetic headspace and cosmology is a lens i use to explore the concepts of conspiracy theory, paranormal thought, religion, and occultism, all of which i am deeply critical of. i have learned a lot about these matters because i was able to fully engage with them in the context of fallout.

also the talking deathclaws lived in vault 13 and the courier carries the vault 13 canteen. there's also some esoteric shit about 13 high priests, 13 ghouls, and 13 landmarks. it's a pretty specific throughline. it's there if you're mad enough to look for it. and we'll never really know what it means if anything

thats what it means. to me

another thing i always say is. any setting where humans don't see ghosts is a strange fantasy. humans have always seen ghosts. don't mean ghosts are real. just means folks see ghosts. and at some point you gotta talk about it

hope this isnt complete nonsense

#x #v13 #meta #fanon #3000

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bvtbxtch · 5 months

Text

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Part 4: The Aftermath)

Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word count: ~6.8k

A/N: It's TIIIIIIIIMMMMMMEEEE! Thank you all so so so much for the love on this little fic that could. This was going to contain more smutty smut smut, but I am going to do a part 5/conclusion to this fic and it will not take 4 months for it to come out LOL. I have been frantically writing for the past week, so I am v sorry I have missed y'all! Thank you for your patience!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The crunch of gravel underneath your half-laced converse was deafening. You finally felt free enough to let the small streams of tears waterfall down your face. Your ears were ringing with a choir of Eddie’s disappointed questions. You pressed your eyes shut to see Eddie’s warm eyes become dark pools of hatred. Eddie hated you, he must have; But how would you know? You burst through Eddie’s wobbly front door and bound down the steps before he could stop you - and lord, he wanted to stop you.

His feet were planted, like vines of insecurity had seeped through the floor and trapped him where he stood. He reached for you in desperation, instantly regretting the poison that had spewed out of his mouth. He had just had you, finally, and he shoved you away.

“What do you mean, that wasn’t the first time you and Steve kissed?” Eddie’s hands began to shake, everything around him moved in slow motion. Why would you do that? Why would you do that to him? You had him in the palm of your hand and instead of embracing him, you tightened into a fist and crushed him. His mind played tricks, replacing your beautiful glowing eyes with Chrissy’s bored baby blues, your kisses that were stamped on his face and neck now burned, reminding him of how Chrissy’s glossed lips used to trail the veins of his neck. As much as he tried to burn her from his memory, the remnants of her wrath scorched him.

You couldn’t meet the boy’s betrayed gaze. Your lips quivered in defeat. It didn’t mean anything. You didn’t want him to. You wanted to grab Eddie’s face and yell to him, that the time that Steve’s lips touched yours, you dreamt they were Eddie’s. That you pushed the quaff of Hair away from you and you ran through your front door, desperate to hear the rasp of your metalhead. But you didn’t. You retreated into your brain, like a black hole suctioned you through space. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t talk. The beautiful boy in front of you paced and pulled at his curled roots, his pasty face contorted in a pout. His glazed eyes made your own burn.

“What the fuck, Y/N? You- you try to fuck me in the bathroom at his house, you come home with me, you tell me you want me, when you’ve been kissing him all along? Do you like him? Did you fuck him?” Eddie’s words sliced through you. You heard him, but could barely register what was going on. Your brain screamed one thing only at you:

Run

So you did the only thing that seemed logical. With a betrayed look in your glassy eyes, you turned on your heels and stampeded for the door. The trailer’s small hallway seemed to stretch on for miles, your hand getting further and further away from the door. Your heart screamed at your brain to allow you to stop and curl into Eddie’s broad chest. You wanted to scream into his ribs so his heart could feel how sorry you were. But you wanted to hit him. You wanted to pound your fists against the walls and yell at him - this wasn’t anyone’s fault. You weren’t - and still aren’t Eddie’s girlfriend. He doesn’t own you and you don’t owe him anything. But your stupid brain shut off and carried you down the drab carpet of the trailer. Eddie watched you in silent horror - watching you slip through his fingers yet again.

The cool October air pushes your held breath out in a broken sob. You stand just outside of the Munson trailer door, hoping - pleading with the universe - that Eddie will cross the threshold of his safety inside and pull you back into him. But, he didn’t move when you went to leave. He let you go, just like he did before. You ruined what good thing you had coming for the two of you. With another crisp sigh, your shoulders shrank to your ears, you wrapped your arms around your torso, and you trudged along the gravel to walk yourself across town to get into your own bed and shut the world out.

The air, which was once cool enough to don only a light jacket, had become more punishing than when you picked your outfit this afternoon. Your breath fogged in front of you as you shivered your way down the side of the highway. You couldn’t help but let your thoughts grow cold with your body. Your sorrow turned to anger and resentment. How dare he? How dare he make you feel guilty when he did the exact same thing to Chrissy with you. How dare he get angry when he strung you along for so long. You hated to admit it, and maybe it’s why there was a ping of want in your chest when Steve kissed you, but you now understood part of Chrissy’s need to be desired. Steve wanted you when it felt like no one did. You had gotten a bit drunk on the power before the sobering idea of Eddie’s heartbroken face pulled you away from the moment. You just wanted Eddie to need you as much as you needed him.

You were so entangled in your own thoughts, you barely noticed the incandescent beams that cast your shadow in front of you. Your eyes tore from the gravel when you heard a soft voice call your name. A beautiful brunette with big blue eyes peered at you from her tidy station wagon.

“Oh, hi, Nancy.” you sniffled. You rubbed your nose and flashed the girl a tight smile.

“Are you okay?” Her sweet soprano lulled you in. You broke. You missed having a girl to talk to.

“Umm… no” you waffled.

“Get in.”

You only knew Nancy Wheeler through her reputation at school. Before she graduated, you knew her as the goodie two shoes who got straight A’s and was in every academic and writing club she could get her manicured hands on. She was nice to you, but intense.

What you didn’t know about Nancy Wheeler is that now that she had graduated and was working for the Hawkins Post, she found time to experiment with her wild side. You had gently got into her car and even though she offered to drive you home, she also begged for you to go to the opening of a new nightclub downtown.

“I don’t know, Nance. I’m literally in my outfit from Steve’s party.” Nancy waved her hand like she was fanning your words away from her.

“Not a problem at all. Most kids that were at Steve’s will probably show anyway! Besides, you have nice legs. Your skirt shows ‘em off.” She winked at you and with a small giggle, you conceded and buckled yourself in for an adventure with Hawkins’ sweetheart.

The ride there, Nancy probed about why you were crying on the side of the road. Your emotions spilled out of you like a bleeding wound, you couldn’t stop the hemorrhaging of feelings you threw at the girl who flashed her big eyes between the road and your face in utter awe of the twisted story you laid out for her. The only response she could let out was a small ‘holy shit’.

You let out a sad chuckle, and she grabbed your clammy hand resting in your lap.

“Fuck Eddie Munson, Fuck Steve Harrington, and Fuck Chrissy Cunningham. Johnathan is coming to pick me up and he’s gonna drive you home too. Let’s drink this whole problem away. The rest of the night isn’t about you, or some stupid boys.” Nancy’s gaze was mischievous, but you could tell that her words were sincere. You were ready to let Eddie and Steve melt away from you like a layer of candle wax. You were ready to illuminate just for you. No boys. No Chrissy. Just you.

The early morning of November 1 was full of weed smoke, fireball shots, and blaring music. The neon lights of the new dance club reflected off of your damp skin. Your body had been fastened next to Nancy’s in the middle of the dancefloor, while shot after shot flowed through your body. You thought you were tipsy at Steves? That seemed like nonsense. Your limbs felt fuzzy and limp, but the euphoric smile stayed plastered on your face. The only thing running through your brain was how loud the music was and how your throat burned from the shots. You grabbed onto Nancy’s bony hips and danced with her. You both laughed as you slotted your leg between hers and mimicked the desperate young couples on the dancefloor needy for some sort of action. The music ebbed while the DJ transitioned to the next dance track, so Nancy grabbed your wrist and led you back to the crowded bar. You both squeezed up to the bartop, bumping shoulders with a skinny blonde. It wasn’t until you turned your eyes to Nancy’s grim face that you knew something was wrong. You saw the girl mouth a small ‘fuck’ before you caught her eyes making contact with someone else’s right behind you. You mimicked Nancy’s fuck as you heard a shrill voice over the new thump of the next track.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N… Didn’t you leave to sleep with my boy like three hours ago?”

You felt your body go numb as you turned to face another pair of baby blues, but these were attached to a glossed scowl and a tall blonde ponytail. Your jaw tightened as she looked you up and down.

“Gee, for hanging out with total burnouts like the Hellfire club, you really don’t know how to hold your liquor.” You flinched at her cutting words. Your heartbeat quickened. Chrissy, the girl who used to support you through almost anything, the girl who used to support your friendships, the one who even pushed you to pursue Gareth so you could go on double dates with her and Eddie, now weaponizing everything you love against you.

“Fuck off, Chrissy. I’m not doing this.” You tried to push your body off of the bar, but the monster in front of you grabbed your shoulder and leaned into your ear.

“Why? Did you hear about how Eddie called me after you left his? How he told me how much he missed me? Let’s go outside and talk about it.” Chrissy dared. Your eyes darted to Nancy, her face screwed into an angry and concerned scowl. You cupped your hand to Nancy’s ear and told her about your plan to go outside with Chrissy. You reassured her you were fine. You told her you were finishing this once and for all. She questioned you with a glare, but you nodded in reassurance.

“Fine, Cunningham. Let’s talk if you wanna talk.” You let the girl lead you out of the club through the front door, once again, you were met with the cool November air, a stark contrast from the heat from the club.

You fully admit that hasty decisions made when drunk rarely end up being good decisions. In your brain, telling Chrissy to fuck herself was going to bring you closure. It was going to end your night on a win and you were going to dance the night away with Nancy until Johnathan dragged your tired bodies off the dancefloor. But that was an ideal world, not real life. You seemed to be ignorant to the fact that alcohol also amplifies the hold your feelings had on your heart.

“What the fuck do you want, Chrissy? What the fuck did I do to you now?” You scoffed. You tried your best to harden your heart, but the waver in your voice let Chrissy know that she had gotten to you. In her game, she had won. A sinister smile spread across her flushed face.

“I just wanted to give you a warning. Since you think that you can finesse my boyfriend away from me.” The girl spat.

“Ex-boyfriend Chrissy. Tell me why I was just with him and he said you were through and he wanted me?” Chrissy cackled at your rebuttal.

“Hah. I guess there is one thing I know about Eddie Munson that you don’t.” Chrissy stepped towards you. “Munson will do anything for a lay.” Chrissy spoke with such casualty in her voice it made your blood run cold. “I mean, you and I both know I definitely gave it up the first time he took me out, but I was desperate to see what the fuckhead was packing…”

“Shut the fuck up, Chrissy!” you wished your voice could be used as a forcefield to push her backwards. She did step back, however, impressed with the strength in your voice. But she laughed, she knew she had taken residence under your skin, it was time to play with all of your nerves.

“Why? Are you jealous of me, Y/N?” Chrissy sneered. “Are you finally ready to admit that you’re just angry that I got everything you ever wanted? I was the top bitch. I was the one that could have anything she wanted. I was the one that won prom queen. I’m so much bigger and better than you could ever be… Was Eddie just the final nail in the coffin for you?”

Chrissy’s words began to fuzz together. You can’t help but close your eyes to block her barrage further. You finally understood. You got who Chrissy Cunningham really was. It started as a chuckle, but grew into an uncontrollable laugh. When you opened your eyes back up, you were greeted with Chrissy’s confused stare.

“All this time… you thought I was jealous?” you couldn’t contain the amused giggle that kept escaping. Chrissy’s cheeks grew more flushed and her brows furrowed tighter with every passing second. “Chrissy, why would I ever be jealous of you? The only thing that ever mattered to you was you - a-and your fucking image! Look at the people you left in your wake! Who the fuck do you have left? Heather? Sarah? Where are they now?”

“O-oh please? Like you have fucking Nancy Wheeler? Big deal.” Chrissy’s voice wavered. She could feel her power and influence fading.

“Yeah, I do. I have lots of people in my corner. But I have myself. I may not feel that fucking fantastic about myself right now, but I know I’m a good person, and I know I deserve love. Do you think that about yourself?”

For the first time tonight, Chrissy was silent. It was only a beat, but it signaled her small defeat - even though she would never admit it to you.

“But, we kissed at the party today. He wants me back, I know it.” She pouted at you.

“You kissed him at the party. He then turned around and kissed me.” you spat. “I think you should take that hint-”

The words were stolen from your mouth as Chrissy’s hand made contact with your cheek. You felt instant heat on your face and your word felt like it was going to flip completely upside down as your balance was rocked. Shocked tears pricked your eyes as you stared in bewilderment at the girl who you once called your best friend stood there, knees shaking and chest heaving. She looked like she was going to throw up, her flush face now pale. You heard a sweet voice turned hardened highlighted by the dull bass of the club entrance.

“Back the fuck up, Chrissy!” Nancy barked. Chrissy backed herself against the wall and started to laugh.

“Get your bitch out of here, Wheeler. I’m fucking done with you both. You and Eddie deserve each other. You’re going to sit and rot here in this stupid town and I’ll be long gone.” Chrissy cried. She shouldered Nancy on the way out. Your chest heaved and you crumbled into the sidewalk, sliding your back down the cement wall of the club. The brunette’s small frame followed you. You sat in silence, only the faint womps of music interrupted the silence.

“Do you want me to go back in there and kill her?” She peeped. You gave her a hearty laugh. She eyed you carefully before joining in. You leaned your head on Nancy’s bony shoulder and let your shoulders heave. Before long, your shakes of laughter turned into silent sobs. You were so tired, so drunk and so unbelievably confused.

A blinding pair of headlights approached as the offending vehicle puttered to a stop. Before the lights were fully blinked off, a clump of footsteps could be heard on the concrete. Both you and Nancy and you both shielded your burning eyes, Nancy grabbed your wrist with her free hand and squeezed. A familiar, but not fully welcome tone calls your name.

“Get up. Let’s go.” The voice was hard, but a sniffle and a sigh book ended his words. You stood slowly, in amazement of the pale face before you. Just a few hours ago, his cheeks were red and his eyes glowed down at you. Now, his skin was dull, his eyes sunken behind puffy bags and a red nose. Your heart broke looking at him.

“E-Eddie? How did you know where to find me?”

As soon as Eddie had come to and realized you had left, he collapsed in on himself. He couldn’t help the tears that poured past his lash line. He pulled his hands into fists and threw a punch to his door as he burst through it. He flopped his body onto his bed and allowed his shoulders to heave as a sob wracked through him. Once again, he fucking froze. Once again, he let you walk away. Once again, he lost the one person he felt like he couldn’t live without. He felt like time had slowed, that he had simultaneously laid on his bed four hours, but mere moments ago you were in his arms. He cried and screamed until his lungs felt they would collapse and his throat was raw.

His realization kicked in. You left. Alone. In the dark. With no vehicle and no way of getting home without him. He jolted out of his bed and ran to the door, ripping his keys from the hook on the wall.

Eddie drove to your house and banged on the door, but there was no answer - all the lights were off and things were too silent for you to be home. He cursed under his breath and ran back to his van. He drove any walking routes he thought you might take: along the sleepy highway, down by Hawkins High or through the middle of town. He saw no signs of you anywhere. It was late. There were no stores open, bars calling last call, street lamps buzzing in a mocking whisper. He shouldn’t have let you go. He kept repeating it in his head and out loud. He shouldn’t have let you go. His silent drive prompted reflection. He had no right to say anything, especially after Chrissy kissed him at Steve’s party literally that night. He should have listened to you. He should have heard what happened. But his stupid insecurities got in the way. He wasn’t good enough for you, he knew that before tonight. But now this had really solidified it for him, you don’t deserve the shitstorm that he has brought to your life. You deserve to be happy, and have friends and have a boyfriend, and as much as he wanted that to be him, he knew that you very well could pick someone else, and he would understand. He mirrored your self-sabotage exactly, you both feeling less than.

Eddie began to grow desperate. If you got hurt - hell if something else happened, he would never forgive himself. He trailed around your favorite hang outs around town and gave up hope. He did have an idea of where else you might have gone.

The knock on the neat wooden door was loud and frantic. Gareth stumbled to open the door with sleepy eyes and a yawn.

“Dude, what the fuck? It's like 2 am!” Gareth chided.

“You were asleep?!?” Eddie grabbed at the collar of Gareth’s faded Metallica t-shirt. “You’ve been asleep this whole time?”

“Yeah, man! What the hell! I left Harrington’s shitty party early and fell the fuck asleep. What’s going on?”

With a whimper, Eddie let your name slip through his mouth before bursting into tears again. Gareth wrapped the tall boy into an embrace and shuffled him into his living room. The two boys sat on the couch recalling the events of the night, through sighs and shed tears from both of them.

“Dude, I need to ask you a serious question, and I know you know the answer… I think you just need to fully admit it to yourself.” Eddie looked at Gareth dazed, but sent him a small nod.

“How long have you been in love with her?” Even the thought of loving you sent heat straight to his cheeks. The thought of being able to touch you, to kiss you, like he had at Steve’s party without any reason made his stomach flop.

“I-” Eddie chewed on his lip. He felt like he had been enamored by you since you first met. When he saw you on stage during his first rehearsal in the theatre, he knew that you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. But love? That was scary. He didn’t love Chrissy. He hadn’t had a girlfriend before her. His family, other than Wayne, never showed him what love was. It felt like a foreign concept. But the fact that he was sitting on his friend’s couch crying over how worried he was, that was a pretty good sign right?

“I… think it was right before the play went up this year, when I got to spend so much time with her.” Eddie’s voice was quiet. He felt powerless, but not threatened. He was ready to fully give up everything for you now. He was ready to submit to his feelings.

“Why didn’t you tell her then and break up with Chrissy?” Gareth probed. His questions weren’t pushy. He was truly asking to help Eddie untangle the mess of thoughts woven in his mind.

“I-I tried to.. When I kissed her - that day in the theatre - I had this silent hope that she was going to just… know. She was just going to understand. She was going to feel all of the things I felt for her and she was going to ask me to leave Chrissy. And I would have, if she asked… but I was so scared of being burned by both of them, I tried to save both… and now look where that has gotten me.” Eddie;s head fell into his hands. Gareth put a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder.

“Eddie, she knew.” Eddie’s face flew from his hands to study the boy’s green eyes across from him. “She’s known all along, but both of you are assholes that are too scared to admit it. But think about it, Ed. She had so much to lose - too much to lose. You needed to make that move, so I am telling you, when we find her, you need to tell her. No more holding back. It’s going to kill the both of you.”

Eddie now understood why you had gravitated to Gareth so easily. He cared so effortlessly for you, and Eddie now realized how much he had taken Gareth’s friendship for granted. He couldn’t help but wrap the dusty blond boy into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Gare.” Eddie whispered, too scared to speak louder and erupt in tears yet again.

“Yeah, just don’t cry again, dude. I can’t take any more of your crocodile tears.” With a sniffle and a chuckle, the boys broke their embrace. Both of their attentions were grabbed from the living room by a shrill ring of the kitchen telephone. Both boys jumped off the couch and crowded around the receiver. A squeaky voice rang through the phone.

“Gareth??”

“Wheeler? What the hell are you doing calling me at 2:30?” The smaller Wheeler sibling was babbling and gasping for air on the other end of the phone. Your name came up between pants and a mishmosh of words.

“Slow down, Mike. What happened?” Gareth’s eyes were glued to Eddie’s. Eddie was whispering small encouragements to Gareth, pleading to pry any information out of the freshman.

“Nancy just called me from this new club downtown? She-she said that she was with Y/N and that I needed to call you to come get them! I think something happened!” It took Eddie no time to leave Gareth’s side and lunge for his keys. Gareth quickly thanked Mike and hung up the phone.

“Do you think I should come with you, Ed?”

“Nah, Gareth. I gotta do this alone.” Eddie’s face turned cold, stoic, scared. He was worried sick and felt a pang of nausea that Nancy had found you in a club of all places. With a pat on the back, he wished Gareth good night and hopped back into his car, trailing way too fast down the winding roads leading him downtown and into your arms.

Nancy’s voice snapped the tension between you and Eddie. You felt like a fist was squeezing your heart. You could barely breathe.

“I-I called Mike to get Gareth to come help.” Nancy looked at the floor, apologetic. You twisted your head to look at her, and you gave her a thankful squeeze on the arm.

“I had gone over to Gareth’s to look for you. I drove to your house and downtown and to the board game cafe… I just couldn’t find you.” Eddie’s voice had softened slightly. You felt the fist on your heart tighten harder. Eddie reached for your limp wrist with a brawny grip. He wasn’t going to let you slip away again.

“Let’s go please.” His eyes pleaded with you. “Wheeler, do you need me to drop you off?”

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Johnathan will be here soon, and I might have a bitch to fight,” Her smile was mischievous, but there were flashes of sorrow for you in her eyes.

“What does she mean?” Eddie flashed you a perturbed stare. Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you whispered Chrissy’s name. That was all you could power out of your rapidly weakening chest. It's all it took for Eddie to roll his eyes and rake his hand over his face. He wished he had the strength to walk into the club, grab her and give her a piece of his mind, but the only thing he had any energy left was to get you home safely, and never leave your side. Eddie pulled you towards his van as you blew a kiss to Nancy and hollered a sweet goodbye.

“Take care of her, Munson. Or I’ll have to kill you.” Nancy dared, her hands crossed over her dainty chest. Eddie offered her a small thank you.

“No, really. I’m a wicked shot.” Both you and Eddie stopped and turned to her in surprise. A small giggle escaped your lips. Nancy waved you both off and sauntered back to the front door that engulfed her in neon dance lights when she opened it.

Eddie silently opened your door and put your seatbelt on you. Neither of you could meet each other's gaze as Eddie’s strong arms reached across you. He closed the door and you let out a sigh of relief in the moment you had alone in the dark van. Eddie restarted his van and pulled away from the club. The radio was uncharacteristically low, and although Eddie had found you in one piece, he refused to turn it back up. You rode in silence down the streets of your neighborhood. Eddie’s stare would flicker from the dark road to your figure every few seconds. He needed to make sure you were real, that you were actually there with him. You fixed your weak body against the passenger window and glued your stare to the passing trees. The windows of your neighbor’s houses sneered back at you just like Chrissy did.

“I was worried about you,” Eddie muttered. “You shouldn’t have run off like that.”

As relieved as you were that you were driving further and further away from the club and Chrissy Cunningham, the more confused and angry you grew at the boy who took you away from her. You couldn’t help but let a small chuckle leave your lips. Eddie scoffed back at you.

“You shouldn’t have let me leave in the first place” you hissed. No way. There was no way he was going to be mad at you. You folded your arms over your chest, willing yourself more metaphorical armor to protect your heart from all the conflicting emotions.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington.” Eddie’s plan was slipping through his fingers. He was panicking, and the only thing he knew how to do when he was panicking, was be mean.

“You should have never, ever kissed Chrissy Cunningham either, Eddie!” You shouted. Eddie opened his mouth to say something but screwed it shut into a scowl. The silence was deafening. For the first time since you got into his van that night, you looked over at him, your eyes absolutely absorbing him. He wanted to pull the van over and kiss some sense into you, show you that he definitely knew that he was never supposed to have been with her. It was always you. But you had shut down. You had given up on him, like he deserved. He couldn’t handle more heartbreak than he had now.

The aching silence came to a head as Eddie pulled the old van into your driveway. Without hesitation you reached over for your seatbelt and opened the creaky door. Time slowed down for both of you, both desperate for the other to give in and just stay, to just collapse into the other. But, you were too hurt and Eddie too guarded. Eddie felt his body freeze when you looked at him (for what felt the last time) as you slammed the passenger door closed and trudged to your front door. Your face fell into a frown and tears flowed, for what you hoped would be the last time in a while.

You fumbled in your purse for your house keys. You finally found the small keychain that Eddie had gotten you from Corroded Coffin’s one day trip into Indianapolis to hang flyers, and you couldn’t help but let your shoulders slump more. Eddie’s headlights illuminated the door. You pushed your keys in, but saw a large shadow approaching your door before you could turn the knob. Your glassy eyes panned up to watch Eddie wildly bounding up your porch steps to your door. The vice grip around your heart loosened as Eddie’s face contorted into a frown. There was hope in his eyes, it was small, but you could tell that there was a glimmer. You dropped your hand.

“I have watched you run away too many times. I can’t let you slip away again.” Eddie wept. His hands flew to your cheeks and ran small circles over your skin. He looked expectantly at you, hanging on every move you made. His palms burned into your skin, you could feel his heartbeat like a bass note through an amp; your body absorbed his energy and you couldn’t force yourself to move away, like it would be disturbing all laws of nature if you did.

“Please don’t let me leave again” you breathed. Before you had time to react, Eddie’s mouth was on yours, the place where he truly felt it belonged. All tension you felt in your body melted away and you felt how truly weak you were. Eddie’s arms engulfed you in a wave of warmth - you were home. You willed your lips off of his and peered through your thick lashes. Thick tears trailed down Eddie’s cheekbones. You pushed your door open in a silent invitation. Too scared for his hands to leave your body, his hands slid to your hips and pushed you through the frame into darkness, peppering kisses against your lips. Eddie spun you and the weight of your bodies pressed the door closed.

As soon as you were fully enveloped in the dark quiet of your home, you pulled Eddie closer into you. What once felt so unsteady, like paper floating through the air, was solid. The impact was like an anchor sinking your heart to the bottom of your stomach. Your back pressed against the cool wood of your front door; Eddie stealing your breath made your head spin. The fuzzy feeling the alcohol had given you had long gone, and Eddie’s lips trailing from yours to your collarbone sobered you completely. Your senses were deprived. The only thing that you could make sense of was the boy in front of you. The only thing your body was responding to was. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

Too close wasn’t close enough and the trails he left across your neck became desperate. Your breath hitched as your hands found purchase in his thick curls. You felt Eddie’s soft moan breathed against your goosebumped skin. His strong hands wrapped themselves around your sides under your sweater. His calloused fingers sent shockwaves through your abdomen. Eddie slotted his leg between yours and pushed himself in closer. As desperate as you were, Eddie was tenfold. He wished that it was possible for the two of you to devour each other and become one. Each blazing kiss he planted to your complexion, he sent a manifesto of how much he cared about you, and how he never dared leave you again. You received his advances openly, pushing your chest into his. Eddie’s mouth traced back up to yours, both of your desperate to tell each other just how much you needed one another without speaking.

Eddie suddenly pulled his kiss chapped lips away from yours. His chocolate brown eyes bore into yours, he was studying every little detail of your face. His brows furrowed together in melancholy.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“I… I just… I want to remember everything about this moment, just in case I don’t get to do it ever again.”

“Eddie, why-” The boy cut you off with a small sigh and a quiver of his bottom lip. He pushed himself away from you, now feeling like your body was a black hole, ready to destroy him at whatever cost. You had been drinking. You had to have drinks to kiss him at Steve’s house. The waves of uncertainty washed over him like a tsunami. Your chest tightened at the whiplash, but the boy looked scared. His big eyes were glassy and his cheeks rosy. He chewed lightly at the lips that were just on you.

“Because I don’t deserve you. And I’m scared you’re going to wake up and think that this was the worst decision of your life.” Eddie’s eyes could barely meet yours. With a quick flash of a self-deprecating smile, his face was trained to the floor. You couldn’t help but wrack out a heartbroken chuckle.

“You don’t trust me? You don’t believe me when I say that I want you, Eddie? That I want to be with you and that has been the only thing that has occupied my fucking mind since I fucking met you!” you raised your voice. You felt conflicted. What did he need? You kisses weren’t enough, your words weren’t enough. Tears flowed freely again.

“I, just don’t want you to regret this, sweetheart. I wouldn’t fucking choose me if I were you…”

“God fucking damn it, Eddie! Why can’t you just listen to me!?” Eddie’s jaw clenched at your scolds.

“Don’t fucking yell at me! Last time I checked, I should be the one that’s mad! You worried me sick! I ran around the whole city looking for you, and I didn’t care if you were falling back into someone else’s arms, I just needed to know that you were okay because I lo-”

“The only reason I god damn ran away is because I couldn’t stand you shoving me out! I couldn’t handle your rejection yet again because I fucking love you-” The words flew out of your mouth like the tears on your cheeks. All the noise of the two of you yelling ceased and it was your turn to stare holes into the floor. The room felt like it had shrunk 10 times smaller and the temperature rose. Your cheeks were on fire, and you couldn’t felt your fingertips. As long as you had felt this way for Eddie, you were always too afraid to admit it out loud. Even though Gareth had probed you about your feelings, you didn’t dare say it out loud to him - or to anyone. Feelings were too scary. Compartmentalizing your feelings felt easier. But now, everything had changed because you loved Eddie Munson and you told him and now he stood in front of you saying nothing.

“Please don’t joke like that…” His voice was small. You flicked your eyes to see his figure taking cautious steps towards you. “I can’t take it if you don’t mean that.”

A simple whisper of his name let him know that you were serious. You began to shake as you felt the uncontrollable angst and relief of letting your feelings out.

You loved Eddie Munson, and you always would love Eddie Munson.

“Can you say it again, please?” For the first time, you heard the flamboyant, loud, exuberant person before you speak timidly. You looked to his pleading eyes and they gave you the courage you didn’t think you had.

“I…. I love you, Eddie. I think I have for quite a while.” You sobbed.

Eddie said nothing, but took your hand and pulled you into him. The moonlight illuminated his pale face that twisted into a small smile. He pulled you in for a kiss so saccharine sweet, you felt that you were going to get a stomach ache. His hands cradled your face like you were made of porcelain. He pulled away from you and rested his forehead on yours. Your hands mirrored his, longing to feel the apples of his cheeks pressed up in a smile. Silently, he led you up the stairs to your room, and pulled your sweater off your shaking body. He followed with his own shirt and pants. You slid your skirt and tights down your body. The two of you stood silently, raking in each other’s bodies. Eddie sat himself down on the bed and pulled your hands so you stood between his legs. His hands rested on your hips and yours on his shoulders. You leaned yourself down to press your lips to his again, needing another reminder that you, in fact, weren’t dreaming and that Eddie was going to stay. The metal head guided your hips so you were straddled over his lap and leaned back with an oof, so you were both lying horizontally on your bed. You both let out a small, nervous giggle. Your lips worked their way back to his’, tongues lazily snaking in and out of mouths, hands tracing new skin that hadn’t been seen before.

Eddie guided the two of you to your pillows, never allowing more than a moment of your lips being apart from his. His body had felt the most relaxed in a long time. Your touches sent fire through his nerves. You whimpered into Eddie’s mouth and he pulled away from you.

“I don’t think we should tonight, sweetheart.” Eddie whispered into you. “We’ve both had a long day, maybe we need to take the night to think about things.” Your face twisted into concern at the beautiful boy under you. He noticed your worry and flipped you over so he was on his side leaning over you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I always have”

Eddie spent the next hour with you breathing heavily against his chest, falling asleep almost immediately after he had invited you to lay on him.

Eddie, for the second time, would not get any sleep staying with you in your bed; but this time, the rogue tears that fell were full of adoration, and he whispered small ‘I love you’s at your dozing figure.

Eddie was happy if he never slept again, as long as his nights all consisted of this.

Taglist: @eddies-acousticguitar @mmunson86 @sadbitchfangirl @hideoutside @anxiousobserver @ali-r3n @brinleighsstuff @filth-fiction-archive @vintagehellfire @kirstinjayjay @poofyloofy @sluggzillaa@aol19 @dark-angel-is-back @keikoraven @emxxblog @adrenalineeerevolver @crybabyddl @lovemegood @cherry-pop3547 @munsquinns @cozmiccass @leelei1980 @darknesseddiem If you would like to be added to my taglist, please fill out this form and consider following!

Also, Steve Harrington fic ideas in the works! Stay tuned!

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thevalicemultiverse · 1 year

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A most extravagent mgfm'latghnah yar (or other December holiday of your choice) to you all on the other end of the tangled web of universes! May your joys be many and your woes few!

-From the Arkham household

*Attached is a picture of Dr. Daniel, N and Dommik dressed in festive clothing outside of their cabin.*

Forgotten Vows!Victor: [staring at the card] I -- I appreciate the sentiment about joys and whatnot, but. . .what is -- what?

Secundus!Alice: [raising an eyebrow] Did you serve these people at the shop, or. . .?

Secundus!Victor: [baffled] I have never seen them before in my life, because, trust me, I'd recognize them.

Catch Us!Alice: [patrolling anxiously around their current hiding spot, because who are these people and how do they know where they sleep]

Cuddlepile!Victoria: [staring] Um. . .is this some sort of prank from some of your friends, or. . .

Cuddlepile!Richard: I mean, I can ask March and Dormy, but. . .it's pretty bizarre, even for them.

Inevitable High School!Victor: [being forced to listen to a lecture from his mother about how he shouldn't be giving out his address to random weirdos, despite the fact he's said ten times he's never seen any of these people in his life]

Londerland Bloodlines!Alice: . . .I'm going to say that at least one of these people is a Malkavian and hope that explains everything.

Fallout of Darkness!Victor: [looking left and right] Who the hell left this in my mailbox? Is this some sort of weird prank, Deacon?

Technicolor Phase!Victoria: . . .I mean, it's a nice gesture, but -- Emily, could you take this with you back Downstairs and get Elder Gutknecht to take a look?

Technicolor Phase!Emily: Certainly -- I want answers as much as you!

Aperture Wage Slave!Victor: . . .if you really wanted me to have a happy Christmas, you'd drag me off to your dimension and out of this hellhole.

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astrojulia · 1 year

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When I started the astrology course I found out that you can be a researcher in the area and you can publish official works on any topic and here I am, already training for that. The logical thought behind this post was: we always liked games, when the first decks were produced it was crazy, so I encompassed all the planets for this. But of course I had some focal points, which were: Mercury talks about digital communication and logical reasoning; Mars speaks of sports and competitive activities; Uranus rules over electronics and gadgets; Neptune speaks of fantasy and imagination; 5th house is connected to all hobbies and 11th to technology and the online world. In the signs I focused on Aquarius, Gemini and Aries, but everyone can be included in this as well as the planets.

Neptune/Moon in the 5th house, Jupiter in 9th house, Cancer and Sagittarius placements may enjoy story games, with deeper characters they can relate to and become emotionally involved with the story. Suggested Games: Spiritfarer, The Last of Us.

Venus in the 11th house, like games that allow socialization and that everyone can have fun together: Suggested Games: Fall Guys, Mario Party.

Mercury in the 3rd and 11th house, likes games that allow interaction with other people but also allows you to lie/bluff in games to win: Suggested Games: Among Us.

Mars in 5th/11th house may like farm games. Suggested Games: Harvest Moon, Story of Seasons, Stardew Valley, Slime Rancher.

Mars in the 1st house, may enjoy games that allow them to express their individuality and create their own character. Sun/Pluto in the 8th house may enjoy activities that allow them to explore their own transformation and evolution, such as playing videogames that involve role-playing or creating and developing a character. Suggested games: Fallout, Skyrim, Cyberpunk 2077.

Pluto/Scorpio in the 11th may like games with replayability since when they like a game it stays the same for several hours. Suggested games: Monster Hunter, Hades.

Sun/Venus in 5th may like music games. Suggested games: Project Diva, Just Dance.

Sun/Mercury in 5th also like games that allow them to create and use their creativity. Suggested games: Animal Crossing, Minecraft, Okami.

Uranus/Sun in 1st/11th likes activities that involves social groups and allow them to connect with others in a laid-back way. Suggested games: Stopots.

Saturn in the 10th house may enjoy activities that challenge them to improve and achieve mastery, Suggested games: Dark Souls.

Lilith in 10/11th house in women it can show that this girl has always been interested in games, but since she is a woman, she is not allowed to play because it is not seen as a woman thing (10th) or that she suffered so much hate for being a woman and playing online (11th) that she may play alone. Suggested Games: any single player that you like, really, just play girl.

Sun/Jupiter in the 9th may like open world/sandbox games where they can explore and see new horizons. Sun/Neptune in 12th house enjoy games that allow them to escape reality and tap into their creative and imaginative side. Suggest games: Death Stranding, Journey.

Mars/Sun/Mercury in Leo/Aries may like games that require quick reflexes and decision-making, they also like competitive games where there can be a number one. Suggest games: Mario Kart, .Forza.

Venus/Moon dominant have preference for games that have rich, immersive environments and a strong aesthetic. Suggested games: Gris.

Mercury dominant may like strategic thinking and problem-solving, such as puzzle games or strategy games. Suggest games: Alice Madness Returns, Portal 2.

Sun/Lilith/Moon in 8th house/Scorpio may like games that can shake with their emotional, talks about taboos and dense topics and changes their worldview. Suggested games: Disco Elysium.

Gemini/Virgo in 5th/11th house may like games that you need to quickly manage something or somewhere, like cooking simulators. Suggest games: Lemon Cake.

Sun/Venus/Libra/Pisces in the 5th/7th/11th house may love any dating simulator. Uranus in the 7th also would like some unconvencional dating games that which merges dating simulator with other types of gameplay. Suggest games: Dream Daddy, Boyfriend Dungeon, Arcana Famiglia.

Mercury in Capricorn/Virgo/10th house may like games that you need mastery and discipline, such as fighting games or games with steep learning curves, or just games that you can make combos. Suggest games: Devil May Cry, Bayonetta.

Mars in Aries/Sagittarius/Scorpio may like games where you can shoot things but also get involved with the history and the characters. Suggest games: Mass Effect.

Sun/Mercury in Gemini may like games where you can have different types of gameplay in just only one game. Suggest games: Yakuza.

Saturn/Moon/Venus in Cancer may like games with elements of caregiving or raising animals or characters. Suggest games: The Sims, Cult of the Lamb.

Pisces Sun/Neptune/Uranus can like games that explore mystical or supernatural themes. Suggest games: The Witcher, Silent Hill.

Where your Aquarius falls can also show what you generally look in a video game: 1st - character creation and first-person games; 2nd - games with an aesthetic you like; 3rd - games with many characters for you to meet; 4th - cozy games; 5th - rhythm games; 6th - life simulator games; 7th - dating simulator,co-op games; 8th - deep story games, +18 games; 9th - open world games; 10th - roguelike or city building games; 11th - online games; 12th - sandbox games

Sun in the 6th house may enjoy games that involve organization and strategy, such as management or simulation games. Suggested games: Planet Zoo, Football Manager.

Moon in the 1st house may enjoy games that provide an emotional experience and allow them to explore their own feelings. Suggested games: Life is Strange.

Jupiter in the 5th house may enjoy games that involve exploration and discovery, with a focus on learning and expanding their knowledge. Suggested games: No Man's Sky, The Witness.

Mars in the 7th house may enjoy games action gamesthat involve teamwork and cooperation, such as multiplayer games or co-op campaigns. Suggested games: Left 4 Dead.

Saturn in the 11th house may enjoy games that require planning and strategy, and that involve long-term goals and rewards. Suggested games: Civilization VI, XCOM 2.

Uranus in the 5th house may enjoy games that are unconventional and challenge the status quo, with a focus on innovation and creativity. Suggested games: Katamari Damacy, Journey.

Neptune in the 7th house may enjoy games that allow them to escape reality and immerse themselves in a fantasy world, with a focus on exploration and discovery, as well some good interactions with the characters. Suggested games: World of Warcraft, Final Fantasy XIV.

Pluto in the 1st house may enjoy games that allow them to explore their own identity and transformation, with a focus on personal growth and development. Suggested games: Persona 5.

Sagittarius in the 5th/11th house may like games plataform games where the objetive is really clear, there can be challenges to achieve it, but what you need to do is straight foward. Suggested games: Donkey Kong Country 1,2 and 3.

Saturn in the 11th house may enjoy games that involve building and managing communities, such as city-building or simulation games that allow them see how this society grows. Suggested games: Cities: Skylines.

Pluto/Saturn/Mars in the 11th house may enjoy games where you cause mass destruction. Suggested Games: Plague Inc.

Sun/Pluto/Capricorn/Scorpio/Leo/Aries in 5th, may like games that allow them to feel powerful and in control, such as action or adventure games where they can take on challenging foes and overcome obstacles. Suggested games: God of War, Assassin's Creed.

Mars in the 11th house may enjoy games that require quick thinking and strategic planning, such as real-time strategy or fast-paced action games that test their reflexes. Suggested games: Starcraft II, Doom.

Jupiter in the 10th house may enjoy games that involve leadership and decision-making, such as management or simulation games that allow them to run their own company or organization. Suggested games: Two Point Hospital, Tropico.

Venus/Taurus/Libra/Pisces in the 1st house may enjoy games that allow them to express their creativity and unique style, such as fashion or art-based games that let them create their own designs and aesthetics. Suggested games: Style Savvy, Art Academy.

Mercury in the 1st house may enjoy games that involve problem-solving and critical thinking, such as puzzle or mystery games that challenge their intellect. Suggested games: Myst, The Witness.

Sun in the 11th house may enjoy games that involve socialization and teamwork, such as online multiplayer games that allow them to connect with others and work towards a common goal. Suggested games: Dead by Daylight, Identity V.

Sun/Mercury/Mars in the 3rd house may like mobile games that are simple to play and that you can play it while waiting for your bus, for example. Suggest games: Candy Crush.

Aquarius/Uranus in the 11th may like games that are simply chaotic and really different. Suggest games: Untitled Goose Game, Cruelty Squad.

Venus/Mars/Saturn/Virgo/Aries in the 6th house, Saturn in the 5th house may enjoy games that involve self-improvement and personal growth, such as fitness or education-based games. Suggested games: RingFit Adventure, Brain Age.

Mars/Jupiter/Sagittarius in the 9th house may enjoy games that involve exploration and adventure, such as RPGs or action games that allow them to travel to new worlds and discover new things. Suggested games: The Legend of Zelda.

Mercury/Gemini/Virgo/Aquarius in the 7th house may enjoy games that involve communication and collaboration, such as multiplayer games or co-op campaigns that require teamwork and strategy. Suggested games: Overcooked.

Saturn in the 5th house may enjoy games that involve discipline and focus, such as puzzle or strategy games that require patience and attention to detail. Suggested games: Tetris, Legends of Runeterra.

Sources: PSD by wildfireresources on deviantart Futaba Render Template by sorberts on tumblr Template by minikyuns on deviantart

#all about astrology #astrology notes #astro observations #astrojulia #natal chart #birth chart #astroblr #witchblr #astro community

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rwrbmovie · 8 days

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Prime Experience, Prime Video’s annual Emmy FYC activation, is back for its 2024 edition. Held at a new venue, NYA West, across the street from last year’s location, the event will let invited members of the Television Academy and Hollywood guilds get closer to some of Prime Video’s top series, movies and specials through in-world installations, interactive exhibits, show-inspired menus and panels.

Opening April 24 with an “Inspiration & Innovation” panel event featuring showrunners from across the slate, Prime Experience will runs through May 20 with a lineup of 12 screenings, panels, and additional special events.

Featured FYC panels will include Expats, Fallout, I’m a Virgo, Maxine’s Baby: The Tyler Perry Story, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Red, White & Royal Blue, The Wheel of Time, Amazon Music Live with Garth Brooks, Jim Gaffigan: Dark Pale, Jenny Slate: Seasoned Professional, Tig Notaro: Hello Again and For Love and Life: No Ordinary Campaign.

Recreated in the space are the post-apocalyptic world of Fallout, the Hong Kong night market of Expats, the New York City brownstone of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Gen V’s Godolkin University campus. Each interactive installation provides a glimpse into the show’s production design, cinematography, visual effects, casting, music, and hair & makeup.

Additional Prime Experience exhibits include life-sized manuscript pages from contenders in writing and other categories like Red, White & Royal Blue and I’m A Virgo; in hair & makeup, with a wall of portraits from programs like Wheel of Time, The Greatest Love Story Never Told and This Is Me…Now; and in sound and music, with a pair of listening booths with comedy clips from Jim Gaffigan: Dark Pale, Jenny Slate: Seasoned Professional, and Tig Notaro: Hello Again.

#omg!#prime is really going for it #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #Emmys #awards #prime experience

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tinfairies · 1 year

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The Fairy Garden

My Ko-Fi

Commission Directory

My Art Tag: tin art

My ask box and DMs are always open for people to come chat or be horny little freaks!

Don't like it? Block me!

Don't be a cunt.

Dark content including rape, self harm, suicide, murder, domestic violence, drug and alcohol abuse, necrophilia, cannibalism, incest and bodily fluids will be present here.

My only major boundary is scat. It just doesn't interest me.

Bestiality and pedophilia are entirely off the table. Yuck.

I do not consent to my writing or art being translated and/or posted to any other website or being fed to AI.

I go by Tin or Lu, I'm 23 years old.

Filthy American 🦅*eagle noises*

I am bi, enby and more fem presenting. I use any pronouns but use she/her by default since it's just easiest. (what I'm used to)

About Lu

I represent myself with bears, tigers and orange cats.

Lu's tumblr

Lu is similar to an alter ego or imaginary friend if you will. I blame shit on him and project my problems onto him. I use him so I don't have to feel negative emotions. He is my punching bag.

Lu is me and I am Lu and I am in full control of my actions and words.

Lu is represented by black dogs/wolves

I "talk" to him and he "talks" to me

Fun Facts

I have 2 kitties named Mercury and Jasmine and 2 leopard geckos named Mister Man and Dracarys

I do lots of art, I used to write a lot but I haven't had the muse for it lately

Mentally ill but who isn't these days (we live in a society fr)

Kink Stuff

Bisexual, switch. Lots of nasty, icky kinks.

BDSM, pet play, age play, knife play, cnc, dumbification, and piss are some of my top kinks.

A mommy dom, or a ma'am but I like being called daddy and sir too. I love puppy and kitty subs and littles.

I am a kitty sub and a little sometimes.

I like being a brat.

I can be a mean dom or soft dom depending on what my sub wants

Fandom List

(this list updates frequently and you're always welcome to pop into my ask box or DMs to talk about these fandoms!)

Anime/Cartoons: Hunter x Hunter, Death Note, Fruits Basket, One Piece, Black Butler, Hazbin Hotel, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Ouran High School Host Club, Princess Jellyfish, Bungo Stray Dogs

TV Shows: Supernatural, The Boys, Gen V, Alice in Borderland, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, Criminal Minds, Percy Jackson

Movies: Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Hunger Games, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, MCU, DCU, X-Men, Slasher/Horror Fandom, Star Wars, The Last Unicorn, Repo! The Genetic Opera, Twilight Saga, Phantom of the Opera

Video Games: Left 4 Dead, Fallout, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Borderlands, Resident Evil, Dead By Daylight, The Sims, Stardew Valley, Red Dead Redemption, Animal Crossing, Boyfriend to Death, The Price of Flesh, Sally Face, Fran Bow, Night in the Woods, Fear and Hunger

Misc: Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, Homestuck, The Vampire Chronicles, Lychee Light Club

Other Interests

Art, writing, history, archeology, anthropology, architecture, vintage era, edwardian era, medieval era, dinosaurs, cryptozoology, speculative evolution, science, mass tragedies, chernobyl meltdown, cults, fashion, historical fashion, horror, true crime, music, musicals

My Hunger Games/TBOSAS Masterlist

My One Piece Masterlist

My Hunter x Hunter Masterlist

My Old Masterlist

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lupinmoonlight · 10 months

Text

Submission Part 4: Edge

Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules Submission Part 3: Obedience

Summary - You sit in Professor Lupin's lap as he edges you with his fingers. You end up losing your v-card to him as well. (5,013 words)

Warnings - smut, teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, fingering, LOTS of "good girl" and "Yes, Sir", age gap obviously, loss of virginity, teasing, edging, mentions of bruises and marking, very light innocence kink if you squint, choking, my grammar (english is not my first language).

Notes - This is not proof-read. So sorry for being MIA. I was burnt out from university and stuff. I still am but I wanted to finish this. I also have 5 hours of sleep left before I have to get up as I am writing this lol. This one is a bit different as I tried to incorporate more of how Remus feels and thinks.

Left alone in the quiet confines of his quarters, Remus sat back in his armchair, his mind racing. He was more than aware that what he was doing was dangerous, was wrong. He was aware of the risks, the potential fallout if you were ever discovered. His career, his reputation, everything could be destroyed in an instant.

Yet, that day you came to him, desperate for guidance, for dominance, he couldn't say no. There was an undeniable attraction, a pull towards you that he couldn't ignore. He knew that if it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. Someone inexperienced, someone who could take advantage of your vulnerability, your innocence, and it filled him with a protective rage. He preferred having you explore this part of yourself with him, in a safe environment where he could ensure your consent...or at least that's what he liked to tell himself.

Remus had always prided himself on his self-control, his restraint. He was known for his moral compass, for his respect towards his students. But with you, all his rules seemed to evaporate. The intoxicating mix of your innocence, your submission, your desire, was too overwhelming to resist.

Every moment of your encounter replayed in his mind as he sat in his armchair. Your flushed cheeks, your trembling hands, the way you'd looked at him with such trust and submission. The memory of you kneeling before him, of you looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, was enough to make him hard again. The way you'd whispered 'Yes, Sir', the vulnerability in your voice, made his heart race. He could still feel the softness of your lips as he grazed his thumb over them, the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, could still taste you on his lips...taste himself on your lips. The marks he left on your neck and back, a visible sign of your shared secret, would be a constant reminder of his dominance, of what you'd done, of what you were about to explore.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling. He was in deep, and there was no turning back now.

You made your way to DADA the next day trying your best to look as normal as possible. You were normal after all, and no one had any reason to suspect you had been on your knees before Professor Lupin the night before, gagging around him and swallowing him down. You couldn't even let your thoughts wander there. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and walked in the classroom like the most normal student ever.

The moment you stepped into the classroom, his eyes fell on you. You did your best to look as innocent as ever, your eyes bright, your cheeks flushed with the morning chill. But the short skirt that hugged your hips, hiked up just enough to reveal laced stockings clinging to your thighs, told a different story, whispered secrets only the two of you shared. Your professor took a moment to appreciate the sight, practically devouring you with his gaze, his pulse quickening, his palms itching to touch, to explore. But no- he had to maintain his control- that was what you had asked of him, after all.

Throughout the class, neither of you could focus on anything else but each other. Every time he looked at you, his gaze lingered longer than it should, tracing the curve of your neck, the shape of your lips. He didn't care how obvious his stare was, how inappropriate it might seem, how predatory it was. He noticed the way your eyes lowered when your gazes met, the faint blush on your cheeks, the subtle shift of your skirt as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. Each small action was a dangerous dance on the edge of forbiddance. He wanted you, needed you. His mind was filled with thoughts of you. Of how he could take you right then and there, on one of the desks. And you, you would just bend over for him, self-respect completely forgotten, dignity gone.

After class ended, he found his voice, a low, steady command that made your stomach jump, your knees weak: "Y/N, would you stay behind for a moment?"

Once the room was emptied, the sounds of chairs scraping and students chattering fading away, you found yourself alone with him. He sat on the edge of his desk, his legs spread, silently inviting you to step into the space between them. The air was thick with tension, anticipation, the room suddenly too small for the two of you.

When you were within reach, he reached out, his fingers finding your waist, pulling you closer. He watched as your eyes widened slightly, your breath hitching as he pulled you against him. He could tell how he affected you, and he loved every moment of it.

"Look at me," he ordered softly, his gaze unyielding. When you hesitated, he repeated his command, his voice just a notch firmer, "Look at me."

Slowly, your eyes met his, hesitant yet trusting. His hand moved from your waist to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the lace of your stockings, causing you to shudder slightly.

"I want these on you tonight when you come to my quarters," he told you, his voice husky. It was an order, a declaration of what was to come. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir", you whispered, your voice shaky.

He smiled at you, a small, appreciative smile with a softness only he could mutter. "Good girl," he praised. "Now go, and behave yourself today."

With that, he released you and you walked away, your steps slightly unsteady, feeling intoxicated by the power he had over you. The arrangement was not supposed to hinder your academic success- yet, your mind was consumed by the memory of kneeling on the floor of his quarters, his length hitting the back of your throat. Everything had become a blur since then. Despite the rules he had established for you, you would never admit to him he had such an effect on you, the fear of losing the sweet feeling of being owned, dominated, too intoxicating, too good.

You were not surprised by your feelings. You were a horny teenager, after all. Inexperienced, desperate, touch-starved. And there was something about the way Professor Lupin held himself that made you want to surrender completely. He was attractive, yes. But it was more than that. It was the kindness in his eyes that made you know you would be safe with him. His quiet strength telling you he could be in charge, take control, make it hurt good, make you cry, make you beg, all the while making you feel like he was the safest, comfiest place in the world.

Remus, on the other hand, had not anticipated the thrill he would be getting from this, from you. For the rest of the day, he had found himself caught in a heady mix of anticipation and unease, his mind never straying far from what was to come this evening, from what he wanted to do to you, with you. The knowledge that what you were doing was ethically wrong, taboo, only seemed to amplify his anticipation. He was acutely aware that he was crossing boundaries he had set for himself long ago. Yet, the intoxicating allure of the forbidden made every stolen moment feel even more intense.

Later that evening, in the silence of his quarters, Professor Lupin sat in his armchair, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the armrest. He was nervous, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. He felt like a teenager again, debating what he was going to wear. Did it really matter? He doubted his clothes would stay on long enough. Still, he opted for something casual- comfortable grey trousers, a simple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a loosely tied tie hanging around his neck.

Your nervous knock on his door snapped him out of his reverie. He was by the door in an instant, pulling it open to reveal you standing there. Your eyes wide, and your cheeks flushed in a way that made his heart pound in his chest. You were dressed just as he had instructed, your short skirt revealing the laced stockings from that morning. The lack of any underwear was invisible to the eye but he knew, and the thought sent a jolt of excitement through him. Your blouse was slightly see-through, the white fabric revealing just a hint of the mark he had left on your back. You looked every bit the innocent schoolgirl that you were (or that you pretended to be), and yet undeniably alluring.

"Come in," he beckoned, stepping aside to let you enter. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, but not unkind, silently communicating his pleasure at your obedience. He guided you towards the armchair positioned opposite to his own.

"Sit," he ordered. You obeyed, your steps hesitant. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as you settled down on the chair, drinking in the sight of you in the outfit he had chosen.

"You look beautiful," he finally said. There was a note of genuine admiration in his tone, an honesty that was impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but blush. You wanted to return the compliment, but you couldn't find your voice, suddenly too nervous to speak. Your reaction did not go unnoticed and he gave a soft smile, satisfied with the effect he had on you.

"How was your day?" he began, his tone casual, as if you were merely two friends catching up yet his eyes were studying you intently.

"Fine, Sir," you lied hesitantly.

He noticed the hesitation immediately and raised an eyebrow. "Just fine?" He continued, his voice holding a note of intrigue. "Did you eat properly?" he continued.

You nodded, stuttering a "Mostly, Sir."

"And did you pay attention in your classes?" He asked. He knew the answer would be no, but he wanted to see if you would be honest with him.

You bit your lip, obviously flustered. "I...I couldn't concentrate...Sir."

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Couldn't concentrate?" He echoed your words, a hint of concern coloring his tone. "Did you complete your homework, at least?"

Again, you hesitated for a moment before responding a timid "I tried to, Sir."

There was a silence as he digested your words, his eyes boring into yours. "If this...arrangement of ours interferes with your academics, or your health, it will end immediately," he stated, his voice firm. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, a soft 'Yes, Sir' escaping your lips.

"Good," he approved, letting the stern façade slip away, replaced by an expression of anticipation. He took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, the nervous girl in laced stockings, awaiting his command.

"Come here," he beckoned, leaning back in his chair and patting his lap. The command went straight between your legs. You hesitated, not trusting yourself to stand, but you obeyed, moving to sit in his lap. His hand immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. The other hand rested on your knee, his fingers gently tracing the fabric of your stockings until they reached the line of lace adorning the middle of your thigh. He let out a soft, approving hum as he appreciated your obedience to his request.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice lowering into a whisper, stirring a thrilling shiver down your spine. His hand slid further up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt. He let his hand wander even higher, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin, noticing the lack of underwear. You squirmed, your body arching instinctively towards him. Your movements elicited a soft gasp from him and you could feel his length hardening against you.

The hand that was resting on your waist snaked up to your neck and then reached to gently grab your chin, turning your face towards him, his thumb grazing your lips, pressing into your mouth. You obediently started sucking on it, your eyes never leaving his. The sight of you, eyes wide and innocent, your mouth working over his thumb, made his erection twitch in the confine of his trousers.

He slowly withdrew his thumb, trailing it across your cheek, before tangling his fingers into your hair, tilting your head back slightly. His lips hovered mere millimeters away from yours, your breaths mingling. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. "Are you going to do as you're told?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to trust your voice again. He let out a soft chuckle, seeing how flustered he could make you with only a few words and touches. He tugged on your hair, pulling your head back just enough to expose your throat. He pressed the softest kiss below your ear, before sucking a mark there. His. His mark. His territory.

This was too much, you wanted more, needed more. You arched further into his touch, straining for a hint of contact, a fraction more pressure from his hand from his hand that had remained teasingly still under your skirt. But the man was not one to be rushed.

"Now, now. Have we forgotten our manners already?" he gently scolded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in an amused smile. His movements stilled completely, effectively freezing you in your tracks. He savored the sight of you: flushed, desperate, and teetering on the edge.

"Use your words, ask nicely," he urged you.

His directive sent a rush of warmth through you. You were flustered, your words stumbling out in a breathless rush, "Please..."

"Please, what?" he prodded, a soft chuckle escaping him again. The pleasure he took from your desperation, from your submission, was evident on his face.

Your lips parted as you drew a shaky breath, finally adding the one word he'd been waiting for. "Please...Sir," you stammered, your cheeks flaming as the words left your mouth. His eyes softened at your admission, his lips curling into a pleased smirk. Your squirms and tiny whimpers sent delicious jolts of pleasure through him, his hard length pressing insistently against you.

His fingers began to move again, trailing further up your thigh, ever so teasingly close to where you wanted him most. "Keep your eyes on me," he instructed you, watching as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Stay still," he ordered, letting his fingers dance around the most intimate part of you. The most desperate whimper escaped your lips, a sound that was music to his ears, pushing him to the brink of control. You involuntarily arched into his touch, making him withdraw his hand abruptly.

"Did I not tell you to stay still?" he reminded you, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Good girls listen, remember?"

"I...I'm sorry, Sir," you managed to stammer out. You felt his hand around your waist tighten, anchoring you firmly to his thigh, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on his fingers. This was his game, his rules, and you would have to play by them.

Satisfied with your answer, his hand disappeared beneath your skirt again, your breath hitching in anticipation. His fingers ventured further up, tracing the damp path his touch had created until one finger pressed at your entrance. His eyes studied your reactions, your pupils blown wide with desire, your chest heaving. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice steady despite the clear arousal in his gaze.

"Yes...Sir," you panted, your voice trembling with need.

His finger pushed further inside you, a low growl escaping his lips as he felt your warm tightness clench around him. His thumb began to trace lazy circles on your clit, his touch maddeningly slow. Your hands instinctively clenching onto his shirt, desperate for some form of stability. Your knuckles turned white with the effort of staying still. He set a steady rhythm that had you trembling, your body fighting the urge to move, to chase the pleasure he was so expertly teasing out of you.

He continued his rhythm, bringing you to the edge of release only to stop abruptly. He was enjoying this too much, the control, the power, the trust you had placed in him. He could feel his arousal pressing into you, the tightness of his trousers now bordering discomfort. But he ignored it. This was about you, about taking care of you, making you feel good.

"Sir..." you whimpered, the loss of contact making your hips buck up in search of his touch. But he held you steady, his hand on your waist keeping you in place. His rhythm was cruelly timed, just enough to build your anticipation before denying you release.

"Please...Sir," you cried out, the words a desperate plea.

He chuckled, his voice laced with an edge of amusement. "Poor thing," he cooed, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. "Look at you, so needy. Can't hold on any longer?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, ashamed of yourself for being so desperate, so vulnerable. But in this moment, it didn't matter. You were so close and you didn't want to dare reaching that sweet release without his permission.

"Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, pulling his fingers away once more and smirking at the whimper of protest that escaped your lips.

You were a blushing mess, your eyes pleading with him as you struggled to find your voice. "P-please...I n-need...," you stammered, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes?" he prodded, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the evident arousal in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking again. "I-I need to...to come, Sir. Please..." you admitted.

A low growl rumbled in his chest at your admission, the sound sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. "Good girl," he praised. His finger, slick with your arousal, ventured back inside you, this time adding a second one. You gasped at the stretch, the pressure, but he kept his pace slow, steady, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled.

"Relax," he instructed, his fingers moving in rhythm with the steady circling of his thumb over your clit. Your body obeyed, relaxing into the touch, and soon his touch was robbed of all gentleness, setting a pace that had you panting and moaning beneath him. The relentless assault had you whimpering, your mind focused on nothing but the waves of pleasure he was eliciting from you.

"Let go," he encouraged, a soft whisper in your ear. "You're such a good girl...let go for me."

With a final whimper, you let yourself succumb to the pleasure, your body convulsing in his hold as you rode out the waves of your climax. Your body arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his shirt. He didn't stop his movements until you slumped against him, completely spent.

"That's my girl," he praised, a note of pride in his voice. He withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to your lips. His eyes met yours with a silent instruction. You obediently took his fingers into your mouth, cleaning them with your tongue, your taste mingling with the salty remnants of your climax. He watched you, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you, flushed and sated and completely at his mercy.

"I think," he said in a low, husky voice, "we should move this to the bedroom." You swallowed thickly, your pulse racing, but nodded, letting him guide you up on your feet.

His room was a reflection of him. A large, comfortable looking bed sat in the middle, the sheets rumpled and inviting. Dark wood furniture filled the room, bookshelves lined the walls. There was a distinctly masculine scent to it, a mixture of parchment, leather bound books and something else, uniquely him.

He led you to the bed, his hand warm and steady on the small of your back. You could feel his gaze on you, it was heated, predatory. "Sit," he commanded. You obeyed instantly, perching on the edge of the bed. He stood in front of you, your eyes at the perfect level with the bulge in his trousers.

His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer. "I want you to see what you do to me."

His grip in hair tightened, the sweet pain making you gasp, your lips now mere centimeters from his erection clearly outlined against the fabric of his trousers. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight. It was a powerful thing, to know that you could evoke such a reaction from him. It was intoxicating.

He took a step back, his gaze taking in your shivering form. His hands reached out towards the buttons of your blouse, the touch making you flinch slightly. His fingers worked slowly, undoing each button with meticulous care. "Relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm as the material fell away, exposing your delicate skin.

Reaching behind you, he unclasped your bra with practiced ease, discarding the fabric with a flick of his wrist. You trembled, exposed and vulnerable, yet you held his gaze. His hands traced down your sides, stopping at the hem of your skirt. "These," he stated, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt and stockings, "stay on."

He gently pushed you, guiding you to lie down on the bed. His figure loomed over you as he positioned himself between your trembling legs. Your professor, still clad in his clothing, a cruel barrier between your bodies, pressed his hips into yours. The friction drew a sharp gasp from you, and you instinctively tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He was quick to catch you, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing your gaze back to him. "Look at me," he commanded. His hand slipped from your face, down to rest on your throat, his grip just tight enough to make you swallow nervously.

He stilled, studying you under him, his thumb pressing ever so slightly into your soft skin. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper against the silence in the room. You wanted him to dominate you, to control you, even if this meant giving you permission to breathe. Your response was instinctive, your hand reaching up to press on his, urging him to tighten his grip. But he simply smirked at you, "Use your words."

You swallowed, your eyes flickering with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Y-yes, Sir," you stuttered, the honorific rolling off your tongue, only fuelling his arousal. His thumb pressed deeper into your skin, feeling your pulse there.

Maintaining the pressure on your throat, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The tenderness of the action stood in stark contrast to the dominance he held over you, the grip on your throat sending jolts of pleasurable fear through your body. Breaking the kiss, he moved to straddle you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Deliberately, he began to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his neck and discarding it with a carelessness that had your breath hitching. He started on his shirt next, each button revealing more of his toned chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare skin, your mind foggy with the realization that you were probably the first student to see this part of him. Sure, no other student had been on their knees gagging around him, but seeing this part of him, like this, felt different. It was more intimate.

He caught your wandering gaze, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement. He took hold of your hands, guiding them towards the buckle of his belt. You hesitated, your eyes darting up to meet his, silently seeking his approval. A low chuckle escaped his lips, "Go on," he encouraged.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his belt, the metal clinking softly. Once you had the buckle undone, you moved to his trousers, pulling them open to reveal his black boxers. Your hands froze at the sight, your eyes looking back up at him, uncertain.

"Keep going," he reassured you. You swallowed, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, letting his erection spring free. He shifted back, pulling his boxers off completely before settling back between your legs. His bare skin against your was a new sensation, a very welcomed sensation. It felt warm, strangely soft, and safe.

His tip brushed against you, teasing your entrance, yet he made no move to push forward, causing you to whimper softly, your breaths coming out in short gasps. He stilled, his dominant façade melting away for a moment to reveal the gentle, kindhearted Remus Lupin you knew so well. He looked down at you, his gaze soft, "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his hand to stroke your hair comfortingly. "We can stop at any time if you're uncomfortable."

You loved that he was so caring, you felt safe, but you also wished he could read your degenerate mind. You didn't want him to be so gentle, so attentive. You wanted him to be rough, to use you, even if it was your first time. You shook your head- no, you absolutely didn't want to stop- a breathy plea of "Please, Sir," tumbling from your lips. Your hands came up to his shoulders, clinging to them in anticipation. The sight of you, so willing, so eager under him, had him teetering on the edge of losing control.

He started pushing in, slowly, agonizingly slowly. A groan escaped his lips, the tightness around him was almost too much. You held your breath, the unfamiliar feeling of being stretched causing you to tense up.

He paused, fully sheathed within you, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, "Breathe, love. Relax," he instructed gently.

At your needy whimper, he began to move, setting a rhythm that had your breath hitching in your throat. Your small noises of pleasure spurred him on. "You feel so good," he groaned, his hand moving up to cup your breast before resting on your throat once more, pressing down just enough to slightly restrict your airways.

You arched into him, your body begging for more. "H-harder...please, Sir," you begged, your words coming out breathlessly. His heart pounded in his chest at your plea. "Such a good girl for me," he praised, his movements becoming harder, driving you into the mattress.

He moved his hand to your hair, tugging harshly to expose your neck. His lips descended upon your exposed neck, sucking a possessive mark into your skin. His other hand slipped down, tracing the line of your thigh, over the lacy stocking that clung to your skin. "Mine," he growled, the statement punctuated by a particularly harsh thrust. His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer to him as he buried himself deeper within you. His rhythm was relentless.

Your breaths were becoming shallower, your body tightening around him. He could tell you were close, so close to that edge he had brought you to earlier. His movements became rougher, more aggressive as he began to lose himself in the pleasure of the moment. "Please..." you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies coming together.

His body was coiling tighter, the pleasure mounting as he thrust deeper and harder into you. "Come for me," he rasped out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. Your body tightened around him, your moans growing louder as you neared your second climax of the night. "That's it, good girl. Let go."

With a final thrust, he stilled inside you, his body tensing as he spilled his seed within you. The pulsing sensation was enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you in waves. You clung to him, struggling to catch your breath.

He remained still on top of you, your bodies pressed together, intimately connected. "Good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against your cheek as he planted soft kisses on your flushed skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at you. Your body felt heavy, exhausted. You could only manage a weak nod in response, your eyes still half-closed.

"Did I hurt you?" he pressed, his gaze lingering on the mark he had left on your neck. You shook your head. He watched you carefully, his eyes studying you for any sign of discomfort or regret. All he saw was exhaustion and bliss.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, the action causing you to let out a soft whimper in protest, leaving you feeling oddly empty. You barely registered his movements as he got up from the bed, only becoming aware of his absence when you felt the warmth of a cleaning spell between your legs. Your skirt and stockings were discarded, your body tucked under the comfort of his bed sheets.

He settled next to you, pulling you close to him, cradling you in his arms as he murmured softly "I've got you." He kissed your temple, the action tender and loving, a contrast to the intensity of what had just happened. As much as you loved being manhandled, owned, dominated, right now, this is what you needed. His heartbeat, steady against your ear, was the most comforting sound you had ever heard.

You knew this was not going to last forever, the reality of things pulling you out of your post-climax bliss. You would have to go back to your dorm soon, pretend to be a good, innocent little schoolgirl. But for now, you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #professor remus lupin #remus lupin smut #d/s #remus lupin x you #smut

274 notes · View notes

muttgreaze · 9 months

Text

If you find this post I'd like to follow any sensible fans of the following

1. Gwar

2. Mr Bungle

3. Oingo Boingo

4. Doom Patrol

5. The Residents

6. Fallout

7. Ween

8. Foetus

9. Grotus

10. Ziltoid

11. SouthPark

12. BioShock

13. Hylics

14. Dark Crystal

15. Taxidermy

16. Dorohedoro

17. H.R. Giger

18. Primus

19. Acid Bath

20. Postal

21. Hellboy

Thanks man V 🥩

219 notes · View notes

pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part thirteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you and joel make your reunion official, and deal with the fallout.

a/n: brO I will fully admit I struggled a bit with this one - it’s mostly unedited but I’m still happy with where we’ve ended up. ANGST CITY BABY AS PER USUAL. and my askbox is always open if you’d like to scream about it 😇

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, explicit sex, unprotected p-in-v (with a slightly throwaway solution), light choking, very emotional sex (heavily inspired by a scene from outlander 👀), Joel’s head has been fully removed from his ass and Liv is making the most of it.

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works!✨

You feel like you’re moving in slow-motion. Every moment feels drawn out, the emotion tripled, the touch more sensitive, the sound more clear. You’re committing every second to memory, refusing to let yourself think this is a dream.

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

Don’t stay away from me, you want to say it a million times over. Don’t ever leave me, don’t let this world swallow me whole without you by my side. You know for a fact you don’t say the words out loud, but he seems to know them anyway. “Never leaving you, baby. Never in a million years.” The words are whispered into your skin, mapped out along the curve of your jaw.

You’re both slow, getting up off the floor. The peals of laughter taste like sugar on his lips, and your mouth chases his, hands reaching, searching, pulling at fabric and pushing at limbs. He hauls you up against him, lifting one thigh until it’s bent over his hip, presses his weight into you. Your neck arches and his lips glue to your pulse, sucking a bruise, tongue soothing the ache it leaves.

Take me to bed.

He does. With one more hungry kiss, he pulls away, planting his hands and pushing himself up, sliding his lips along your collar before he’s gone, shuffling backwards, getting to his feet. He holds both hands out to you, and you take them, groaning as he pulls you up, tugs on your arms, sends you sprawling into his chest.

Joel bands his arm around your shoulders, the other around your waist, seeks out your mouth again.

Never stop kissing me. Never stop holding me.

The riot of butterflies zipping through you feels foreign, almost unfamiliar, but when he pushes his tongue past your teeth, memories rise to the surface, bright spots amongst the dark. Kissing in the paint aisle with coffee on your breath, in the bed of his truck beneath the stars, in the corner of the movie theatre in Austin, in the dead of night when you slept in his bed and sought him out with sleep in the corners of your eyes.

It all feels like a lifetime ago. It is, in a way.

The hand at your waist moves beneath your sweater, the flat of his palm against the small of your back. The mere touch of his skin to yours makes your blood shiver with anticipation and you curl your fingers in the front of his flannel, dark red striped with black. He adjusts his grip on you, slides both hands up your back, presses them to your shoulder blades, the soft pressure making your arms lift, wrapping around his neck, lips still glued to his.

His hands slide back down, rounding the curve of your hips, squeezing at the meat of your ass. He walks you backwards, out of the kitchen, towards the bed, and you waste no time taking over, turning until you’re the one pushing him, your legs crooked between his, boots shuffling together across the wood floor. When the edge of the mattress hits the back of his knees, Joel flinches, your mouths breaking apart.

“Liv, are you—”

“Joel Miller, if you ask me if I’m sure, I swear to god I will smack you with my baseball bat.”

He has the audacity to grin, a sly thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “You stashed the bat.”

You scoff, almost exasperated. “Shut the fuck up.” You almost roll your eyes, but he grabs you again, both hands on your face, fingers curling around your ears, sliding into your hair. You slide your own beneath the hem of his shirt, seeking out hot skin, but you freeze when your fingertips skim something raised, a line across his hip, unfamiliar. “What…?”

You half expect him to pull away when you lift the fabric, leaning back enough to get a good look.

“Joel—”

“Outbreak day,” he says, the words hushed, the tone in his voice making your eyes dart back up to his. His hands have slid down to your neck, and you can feel the edge of his thumb rubbing along the hinge of your jaw, the movement soothing. You let your fingers follow the shape of the scar again. “Bullet just skimmed me.” He inhales sharply, leans forward until his forehead is pressed to yours, his eyes shutting tightly. “Same soldier that…” The words trail off, but you put two and two together, taking a deep breath.

Same soldier that shot Sarah.

You move your hands away, instead focusing your fingers on the buttons of his flannel. “I like this shirt,” you murmur, tilting your face in his grip, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Might have to steal this one.”

“You have one of my shirts already,” he replies, his thumb moving up the slope of your cheek. “Saw it in your closet.”

You lift a brow, silently exhaling, grateful for the change of subject. “You went through my stuff?”

He catches your bottom lip in a gentle kiss, his mouth along your jaw a moment later. “Didn’t go through your underwear, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t be mad, if you had,” you reply, letting your lips curve into a wicked grin. He makes a grumbling noise, giving you a harder peck, and you nearly moan.

“You have my shirt.”

You nod. “I had another one, too, but I got caught in the bombings, and it got shredded.”

His brow goes hard, and your hands move to his belt, tugging at the buckle, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. The movement makes his face soften slightly, and he grumbles again, eyes screwed shut. “Don’t like the idea of you, out there, all alone, fighting for your fuckin’ life.”

“Didn’t have a choice,” you tell him, working the button of his jeans neck, letting your fingers graze the skin above the band of his boxers, through the happy trail of hair that leads beneath the elastic. “I had to get to you.”

“Were you hurt?” he asks, his voice a low rasp, and you nod, the tip of your nose dragged along his. “Show me.”

You pull back slightly, reluctantly letting go of his waist, crossing your arms and yanking your sweater over your head. Joel inhales sharply, dropping his hands from your face. He grabs your wrist first, taking in the jagged scar that runs the top of your forearm. “I was holed up in a bookstore when they started bombing,” you tell him, recalling as he lets his fingers skim your skin. It makes you shiver. “Lucky a damn shelf didn’t fall on my head.”

“I remember…” he starts, lifting your arm until your hand rests on his shoulder. He turns his head, leans his cheek against your wrist. “When I called that first night, you said that Dean…that he scratched you, or…?”

You nod, turning your scarred shoulder towards him. “That’s right. You told me to patch myself up.”

His fingers graze over the scar, following the lines in your skin. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, and your shoulder rolls back and he grips your hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his voice low, forehead leaning into yours. “I’m sorry I was an ass, I’m sorry I took so long, I’m sorry I—”

“Joel—”

“I’m never leaving you again, you hear me?” You’ve got both hands in his hair now, and the shine in his eyes makes tears crawl up your throat. “I won’t ever lo—”

“Joel.”

“I should have been here,” he says, his voice thick, and a tear slips down your cheek, hot as anything. “I should have protected you, I should have told you to stay in Austin, I never should have let you go.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, pushing yourself further into his grasp. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters, you understand?” When he doesn’t respond, you tug on his hair, forcing his eyes to yours. “You’re here now. We both are.”

The next kiss he offers destroys you. It’s like he’s devouring you, drinking the air from your lungs, tasting every inch of your mouth, pulling you back to the thrill and pleasure and love you felt in Texas so many years ago. There’s nothing slow about his movements now, hands roving your body, careful around your ribs, but mapping you out, relearning the curve of you. There are other scars on you, tiny marks collected outside the wall, too-close run-ins and that one time you fucking tripped and fell on your knife, but he doesn’t ask about those, too preoccupied with your mouth.

After a while, he sinks down, sits at the edge of the mattress. He spreads his knees wide, brings you between them, undoing your jeans with ease, pushing them down your legs. He leaves a hot trail of kisses along your waist, hooks his fingers in the elastic of your underwear, pulling them down too. Joel’s head dips lower, one hand pushing your legs apart, and you gasp when he licks at you, nose buried right between your thighs.

You gasp, tugging on his hair, and he pulls back, eyes on your face, lips shiny already. You’re quivering, having him this close again. “D’you have any idea how much I’ve missed the taste of you, baby?”

The words alone are enough to make your knees go weak, and you open your mouth to say something, but only a moan comes out, his head lowered to you once more, both hands an iron grip on your hips. It’s ecstasy, the feeling of his mouth, the press of his fingers, the softness of his hair. It makes your toes curl, makes stars shoot across the backs of your eyelids.

“Joel.”

He moans into you, and you pull hard on his hair, gasping for air when he detaches from the nerves between your legs. You feel staticky, your fingers and toes tingling as you tilt his head back, bend down to kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue. You go to lift your leg, to plant your knee on the bed beside him, but Joel stops you, getting to his feet.

“What—”

His fingers fly down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning as he goes. Your chest is heaving, eyes darting all over him as more bare skin is revealed. You can see the scar just above his hip now, raised and shiny. He has other scars, just like you, tiny marks and wounds, proof of life, proof he survived. You can’t help but reach for him, running your palms up his chest as he shrugs out of his shirt.

Joel kisses your forehead as he drapes the shirt around you, helping you slide your arms through the sleeves. Faintly, you hear the soft thud as his jeans hit the floor, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he sinks back down onto the mattress. He curls his other hand around your leg, tugging at your knee until it’s fit against his hip. You adjust your weight, lifting the other leg to match, and settle into his lap, feeling the light scratch of the hair on his legs against your thighs, the prod of his covered cock against your core.

“D’you need me to—” he starts, but you shake your head, cutting him off, your faces so close together that your nose brushes his again.

“I just wanna feel you.”

Joel watches, eyes heavy-lidded and pupils wide, as you grab his wrist, lifting his hand to your mouth, laving your tongue along his fingers, tasting the salt on his skin. His gaze is glued to your lips, your tongue, and when you slide his index and middle into your mouth, your eyes lock to his, and his grip on your waist grows impossibly tighter.

You lean up slightly, lifting your weight off him as he pulls his hand from your face, slipping between you, freeing himself. He fits his face into the curve of your neck, sucks at the thin skin over your pulse, and you let your eyes slip shut. Your fingers curl in the cuffs of his shirt, the fabric worn soft between your knuckles. You’re surrounded by the scent of him, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of him.

His hand drags slowly against you, making your back arch when you sink back down, feeling the hot press of him inside you, scrabbling at his shoulders as his mouth moves up your throat, seeks out your lips once more. You’re gasping as you seat yourself fully, his cock filling you to the hilt, and Joel kisses the noises right out of you, moving both hands to your hips, guiding you along him.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, teeth nipping at your lips, moving along your jaw. You’re a mess, the feeling of him, of being full of him, after so long is so achingly familiar that all you can do is hold onto him, pushing both hands through his hair, keeping him as close as you can. It’s a stretch, there’s no denying that, just riding the line between pleasure and pain, but you don’t care, letting your knees slide wider on the bed, letting yourself sink deeper into his embrace, letting him push agains tall those devastating places buried inside you.

It makes you feel alive.

“Missed you,” he breathes into your skin, hips jolting up into yours with every drag of his cock. “Every fuckin’ day, every fuckin’ minute. Never stopped thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“Joel—” you croak out, that coil in your belly snapping tight when you feel his teeth scrape beneath your jaw, one hand dipping back to grab a handful of your ass. But every movement is slow still, a drawn-out instant that blurs the line between past and present.

It sparks something in you, something that’s been waiting to be unleashed for God only knows how long. A near toxic mix of anger and longing and pain and love, emotion spilling out of you unbidden. You shove at his shoulders, catching him off guard as he falls back. He reaches for you, and you bat his hands away, planing both of yours and chest and grinding down on him.

“You were an ass to me, Joel Miller,” you grit, pleasure setting your nerves alight. You can feel your orgasm barrelling towards you, but you hold back, bearing down on him, revelling in the sound he makes when you clench tight.

“I know,” he starts to say, his voice gravelly. “I’m sorry, baby, I—”

You move one hand from is chest to his jaw, your fingers spread along the side of his neck. You lean forward just enough that his eyes meet yours, and everything in you buzzes at the lust-filled look in his eye, his parted lips, his heavy breaths. Something possessive and feral makes your heart racket.

“You ever treat me the way you have these last few weeks again, and I swear to God—” the words are punctuated by deep rolls of your hips, long drags that make his chest stutter, “—I will make you regret the day you met me, you understand?”

“Liv, ba—” he starts, and you squeeze your fingers either side of his throat.

“Do you understand?” you repeat, and lift yourself off him, until just the tip of him is notched inside you.

“Yes,” he breathes, and you slam back down, mouth seeking his, drinking down the groans the spill out of him. Everything in you is tingling, white sparks behind your eyes, your blood singing in your veins. He grabs hold of your wrists and leans up, chest pressed to yours, a grunt on his lips and a gleam in his eye.

The world tilts, and your back hits the mattress, Joel still pressed deep within you. He moves up the bed with you, covers your body with his own. He cages his arms around your head, pushes the hair back from your face. You drag your nails up his back, dig them into his shoulder blades slightly. You want to mark him, you want to shout his name until your lungs give out, you want to—

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs to you, his mouth an inch from your ear, hot breath fanning your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “My brave girl.” He rolls his hips, and your back arches off the mattress. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

You croak his name, tossing your head back as the familiar feeling creeps up your spine, the world being yanked out from under you, everything going impossibly tight and good and—

He grits out your name as you cum, your nails dug so hard into his back you’re sure you’ll draw blood, but Joel doesn’t seem to care, continuing the slow drag of his cock against your every nerve, his face fit into the curve of your neck, peppered kisses at your pulse. It’s just as intense as you remember, with him, that feeling of weightlessness seeping into you, everything relaxing as he keeps moving, seeking out his own pleasure, and you can’t help but clench, spurring him on.

At the last second, he pulls out, making you both groan, cumming hot across your bare stomach, just missing the fabric of his shirt. He slumps sideways, falling onto the mattress beside you, keeping his arm across your body, fingers wrapped around your bicep.

“M’sorry,” he grumbles, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Wasn’t sure where to…”

You just laugh, moving his shirt out of the way. “It’s fine, Joel,” you murmur, reaching out and stroking your knuckles along his cheek. “We’re good, just for future reference.”

His brow raises slowly. “Hmm?”

“McCoy has a few…habits,” you tell him, sighing when his hand moves up to your face, cups your jaw. “I smuggle his shit in from the outside, and he gets me the pill from the pharmacy in exchange.”

“Why would you—” he starts to ask, but cuts himself off, eyes slipping shut. “Right. Cowan. Of all the guys you could have…”

You slide your head closer to his, until you can kiss him softly. “It doesn’t matter now. None of it.”

Joel grunts, pulling you even closer still, a hotter kiss pressed to your mouth, tongue tasting yours. “You were the only thing that ever did.”

“You’re a romantic, Joel Miller,” you grin, rubbing your nose against his.

He grins back. “Only for women who put their hands around my throat and threaten me like you did.”

You chew your lips, heat sparking between your legs again already, turned to flame when he releases your jaw and lets his hand rest on your thigh instead, fingers curling along your sensitive skin. “Oh, you enjoyed that, did you?”

“Fuckin’ right, I did,” he grumbles, and then his mouth finds yours once more.

You’re up just before the sun is.

You don’t bother with the clock, turning back over, burrowing deeper into Joel’s side, the blankets covering you both. He’s sprawled on his back, one arm beneath your head, the other resting on his stomach. It makes you smile; some things never change, and you’re grateful as hell for that.

The pair of you never left the bed last night. After you cleaned yourself up from the first round, it had very quickly devolved into a second and third. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t keep yours off of him, touching and exploring each other until the last dregs of sunlight disappeared. He made you feel things you’d thought were long forgotten, mere memories of what you’d shared in Austin, renewed completely, leaving you reeling.

You lit candles along the windowsill, played music low on the radio — a copy of the same Led Zeppelin cassette you’d once played in Joel’s truck — and polished off the bottle of whiskey. And you talked.

For hours.

You talked until your voice grew hoarse, and Joel’s just got more and more gravelly with every story he told. There were things he still wouldn’t tell you, things he said he was ashamed of, but you understood. There were some stories that required more than just whiskey, ones you weren’t ready to share. You weren’t the same people anymore, but a combination of new and old, survivors, people who had done what they had to to make it out alive. Make it back to each other.

Joel refused to let you out of his grip, and you were more than happy to oblige, content to stay perched in his lap as you spoke. His hands wandered, along your ribs, over your stomach, brushing the hair back from your face. You returned his touch in kind, palms riding the curves of his chest, the width of his shoulders. Your attention veered off more than once, distracted by his fingers sliding between your legs, lips finding yours, rasped words in your ear.

God, I missed you. Love you. Need you.

And now, waking up, your body not so shockingly aches for more. You cuddle closer, humming happily when his arm curls around your shoulders, head turning and his lips moving across your forehead. You sling your arm across his stomach, rubbing your thumb across his hipbone. His legs flex beneath the sheets, tangling with your own, dragging you closer.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his eyes still shut, removing his hand up and down your arm.

“Hi,” you whisper back, lifting your jaw to kiss at his scruffy one. “It’s early, go back to sleep.”

Joel groans, burying his face in your pillow, his head ducked beneath yours lips near your ear. “W’bout you?” He squeezes your shoulder. “Stay.”

You have time to make up for, questions that still need answering, decisions to make. You want to assume that he’ll stay with you here, in your apartment, that the bed that has only been your own thus far would now belong to you both. Waking up like this, beside him — a luxury you’d never allowed yourself to grow used to back in Texas — nearly makes up for it all.

But with the threads of sunlight just starting to spark the sky, Joel beside you, the phantom feeling of him all over you, the heaviness of all the whiskey looming in the back of your throat, the guilt comes too, the unfairness of your situation, to one specific person.

Nick.

Joel had asked only once. Only one question, only one thing he was curious to know. And the answer had come so quickly, fallen out of you so fast that the guilt had started there, only to be pushed away by Joel, not by his words or his reassurances, but just his presence.

Did you love him? Do…do you love him?

No.

The answer was easy. And, you hadn’t lied to Nick. You’d never said the words, no matter how many times he’d had that gleam in his eye, when you disappeared out the fire escape, or ran into him out on patrols. It would have been a lie, plain and simple, and you refused to be that person. You had wanted to give him more, had felt like it was something deserved, even if it wasn’t something you were able to give. After five long years, you’d started to resign yourself, half convinced that no one was ever going to answer your radio messages, or walk through those gates, back into your life.

But then…Joel did.

You have to end it, with Nick. Officially. There’s no getting around it, and part of you wonders if he’ll see it coming, if he’s expecting it. In the weeks that followed him bringing Tess and Joel through officially, your stint in lockup, the beating from Angie, you’d made yourself scarce. The weight of Joel’s indifference was one thing, and the last thing you wanted was Nick’s sympathy. It felt false, no matter how you looked at it.

It was a good few days before you saw him on the streets again, and he’d balked at the bruise on your face, the slight stagger to your walk. You gave him the short version, that you’d definitely pissed Angie off at the pharmacy, and maybe you had the beating coming. He’d given you a once over, took your chin in his hand and inspected your face, told to come see him later that night.

“I shouldn’t,” you said, trying not to sound too dismissive, shaking your head in his grip. “I’m staying at Deanna’s, promised the kids a bedtime story.”

“Come after.”

“And get caught out after curfew?” you’d shot back, stepping out of his reach. “The last thing I need is another stint in lockup, don’t you think?”

“Liv—”

“I’ll see you around, Cowan.”

You’d turned on your heel, stalking off in the same direction you’d came, even though it wasn’t where you were going. You didn’t miss the hurt look on his face, the use of his surname rather than his first clearly not what we was expecting, but your face and ribs throbbed with every step you took, and you found you didn’t feel so bad about it.

He’d come by Deanna’s once while you were there. A few words were exchanged, you’d kept yourself busy with a game of Candyland with Emily, and Deanna and Nick talked in the kitchen, their voices hushed. He ruffled Henry’s hair and pinched Emily’s cheek before he left, and ducked down to leave a kiss at your temple. It made your cheeks flare with heat, and you’d followed him out of Deanna’s apartment, caught him in the hallway.

“I never thanked you properly. For getting Joel and Tess through.”

He stopped, dead in his tracks, for just a moment. Turned his head enough that you could just see his face, his hard expression. “Don’t mention it.”

That was the last time you saw him.

You’re reluctant, sliding out of Joel’s grip, out of bed. He makes a noise that sounds nearly like a whine when you disentangle yourself fully, and you lean over him, pressing messy kisses along his cheeks, over his lips, his jaw. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back.”

“Where y’going?” he grumbles out, chasing your mouth. “Come back t’bed, baby.”

“There’s something I gotta go,” you tell him, kissing his cheek, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’ll come back and make you breakfast, hmm?”

“Mmm,” is the only response you get, and he’s asleep again, buried in your pillow.

You can’t bring yourself to shed his shirt, so you do up the buttons instead, find a pair of black jeans that are still wearable, shove your feet in your boots. Pulling on your coat, you grab your keys, and pause, turning and glancing back towards the bed. Joel’s still asleep, flat on his back, lips parted, soft snores filling the apartment, and despite the guilt rioting in your stomach, you smile. He looks peaceful, for the first time since you saw him again. He looks like your bed is where he belongs.

You yank your eyes away, slipping out the door as quietly as possible and locking it behind you.

It’s just past the morning curfew, when you step out of the building. The streets are mostly empty, soldiers coming off evening patrols, the day shift switching out. You take the quick path to the barracks, sliding up the fire escape, knocking softly at the window.

Nick’s awake, pulling on his gear, and his eyes meet yours through the glass as he walks towards the window, sliding it open. “What are you doing here so early?” There’s a bit of curiosity in his tone, but otherwise, his voice is flat, unflinching.

“I need to talk to you.”

He steps out of the way, and you clamber through the window, ignoring the ache in your legs, no doubt a consequence of your evening escapades. If he sees you flinch, he says nothing.

Nick goes and perches at the edge of his bed, and you stay standing, near the window. A quick escape. “What’s going on, Liv?”

“I can’t…we, I’m not…” You sigh heavily. Might as well just fucking say it. “I slept with Joel.”

He barks a laugh, and you nearly flinch. “Am I supposed to be surprised?” He leans forward, clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. “When?”

“Last night. I’m sorry, for whatever that’s worth. I don’t expect you to keep…treating me, the way you have. I don’t expect any more favours, or—”

“What would you have done,” he starts, getting to his feet, cutting you off, “if I had said no? If I had refused to bring them through?”

Your back straightens at his harsh tone. You’re not expecting forgiveness, or for this to be an easy conversation, but you already don’t like where it’s going. “I would have found another way. I would have made another deal, or let Angie beat me to death, if that’s what it took. I would have done anything.”

Nick just stares at you, for a moment, those strange eyes of him going dark, nearly black, darker than you’ve seen them in a long time. “You really love him that much.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I never stood a goddamn chance, did I? Could you ever have loved me, like that?”

You shake your head. “I can’t love anyone the way I love him.”

“I never should have fucking…” He trails off, rubs a hand over his face. “Did you ever even give a shit, really?”

“Nick, don’t—”

“Well, now’s the time for honesty, Liv! Answer the fucking question.”

“Of course I give a shit!” you throw back, taking a step forward. He stares down his nose at you. “Of course I care about you, Nick, but this is not…It’s him. I’m sorry, I truly am, but it’s always been him. It’s always gonna be him.”

“Get out.”

“Nick—”

“Get the fuck out. And do me a goddamn favour and keep your smuggling bullshit away from me. I know I can’t stop you, and there’s no point in me reporting you, you’d just rat me out.”

You balk, faltering back a step. “You really think that little of me? You honestly think I’d rat you out after this?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I do.”

You inhale sharply. You knew it would be bad, but you didn’t think this bad. “I never meant for it to happen like this. I never thought he would show up. Don’t you get that?”

“Just…get out of here, Liv. Don’t come back.”

There are tears in your eyes, the whole way back. You take the long route back to your apartment, keeping to the streets, pushing your way through people. Every word Nick had said rings in your ears, your throat thick and your cheeks stinging. You chew the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your face.

When you get through the door, your eyes go straight to the bed, and your heart leaps into the throat when you see it’s empty, the blankets rumpled. A single tears slips out then, and you wipe it away with the sleeve of your coat.

“Liv?” Joel’s voice calls, and your head snaps towards the kitchen, seeing him standing there at the counter, no shirt, jeans still unbuckled. “Baby?”

You throw yourself at him, headlong into his arms, and he catches you, holding you against his bare chest. The tears come freely then, a whirlwind of emotions, and Joel just holds you through it, fitting his face into the crook of your neck, rocking you slightly, one hand buried in your hair.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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ellethespaceunicorn · 9 months

Text

Daddy Knows Best, Part III

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part III

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll take a trip together.

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), Dom/sub vibes, oral (m receiving), cum facial, cockwarming, unprotected p-in-v sex, cumshot, loss of a parent (mother), dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“It’s only a couple of days, Babydoll. I promise I will be back before you know it.” I fold a polo and put it in my suitcase on the bed next to a grumpy Babydoll.

“You’re gonna leave me here with Mom? I might as well be alone.” That little pout on her face gets me every time. And she’s not wrong. Her mother will ignore her at best, and at worse she will try and connect with her.

Too little, too late.

“You want to come with Daddy on his trip, don’t you?” I start thinking about what things we could get up to in my safe house.

And it could make it easier to do that...other thing I had planned.

“Please, Daddy?! I promise I won’t take up a whole lotta space and I’ll do whatever you say, I promise!! Please, can I go?” She clasps her hands under her chin and pokes out her bottom lip and I am a goner.

“Whatever I say, huh?” A couple of things come to mind at that moment and I file them away for later usage.

She bites her lip to hide a smile, nodding furiously.

I wink at her, leaning down and claiming her lips. Pulling away and smiling at her, I say, “Go and pack for a three-day trip,” I bring a hand down to cup her pussy, moving her panties to the side and dipping a finger in to feel that she was a soaked mess, “You are going to do everything I say, Babydoll. And you will respond with ‘Yes, Daddy’. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She wiggles her hips to try and ride my finger, but I pull it away and lick it clean as she watches.

“Don’t make me have to ask you to go pack, Babydoll.” I give her a stern look and she scurries away.

Soon, our suitcases are in my Escalade and we are off on our small road trip.

You wake up slightly as Daddy is carrying you into a cabin under the light of the moon. You keep your eyes closed as you are put into bed and your shoes and jacket are removed. You peek an eye open as you lift a hand to grab Daddy’s arm as he starts to leave.

A warm hand touches yours, “Daddy just has to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back, Babydoll.”

You nod and close your eyes, melting into the plush comforter surrounding you. The creak of the wooden bedroom door shutting is all you hear before sleep claims you yet again.

I shut the bedroom door and immediately pull out my cell phone. Dialing a number I’ve memorized, I wait until the line is picked up.

“Timeline’s moved up. Do it now.” Hanging up after hearing confirmation, I make my way over to the small bar in the living room.

I pour two fingers of Black Label neat and swirl it around, taking a sip. The smoky vanilla liquid coats my tongue as I savor it and then swallow. Whether it’s the placebo effect or not, I instantly feel calm.

Sitting on one end of the couch, I throw my feet up on the coffee table. Holding my drink in my lap and leaning my head back against the backrest of the couch, I close my eyes and just rest.

It’s so rare that I can just sit in silence anymore. I didn’t ask to be a father...figure. Not that I’m upset about Babydoll being in my life, far from it. She's perfect for me.

I’m terrible for her. But she has no clue about that. And I'd like to keep it that way.

My sweet little empty-headed Babydoll is ready to do anything and everything I ask her to. If pleasing me makes her happy, who am I to stop her?

I take a sip of my drink and hear the slow creak of the floorboards in the bedroom. I throw my arm over the back of the couch as the bedroom door opens and Babydoll’s head pokes out.

“Daddy?” Oh, how I love to hear that out of her mouth.

“Come here, Babydoll,” I hold an arm out as she shuffles across the hardwood in her thigh-high socks and makes her way over to the couch to sit sideways in my lap, “I thought you were sleeping, babygirl.”

Laying her head on my chest and wrapping her arms around me, she settles in against my warmth. “I reached over for you and you weren’t there and I got scared.” How is she this fucking adorable?

“Oh, my sweet girl. I was right here the whole time. I promise you are always safe with me,” Safe was kind of subjective, but I went with it, “I’ve got an idea to get you back to sleep, it’ll make you nice and tired.”

She starts to squirm in my lap and I put my hand on one of her thighs, hooking my fingers in her thigh-high sock and pulling it down her leg. I do the same with the other before I reach over her to put my drink on the table.

Moving her to the couch, I kneel between her legs on the floor and get my hands under her skirt to pull her panties down. The thought crosses my mind how I went through her suitcase and pulled out all the panties she packed. I want easy access to this pussy while we’re away.

She snaps me out of my reverie with, “Daddy?”

“What’s wrong, Babydoll?”

She leans up and runs her hand over the front of my slacks and grabs my dick. “I wanna learn to give Daddy special kisses too.” Did she know what she was doing to me?

Fuck.

I bite my bottom lip and sit back on my heels for a second, looking into her pleading eyes. Standing back up, I open my zipper and pull out my already half-hard dick right in front of those pretty plump lips. “You want this in your mouth, Babydoll?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please teach me how you like it?” Her eyes go wide when my dick twitches at her words, so she decides to go a bit further. “Wanna taste Daddy.” She’s rewarded with another twitch.

“Why don’t you grab Daddy’s dick and stroke it first, Babydoll?” The moment she has a hand around me, she licks her lips and it threw me for a loop. Up until this point, she has been my sweet virginal Princess, now she wants to suck me off and it turns me on beyond belief. She reverts to using both hands and that little tongue snakes out again in her concentration. I take my dick out of her hands and grab her chin, “Stick your tongue out for Daddy and keep that mouth open.”

I hold the head of my dick and spread my precum all over her tongue, pushing just the head inside her mouth. “Now, close your mouth around Daddy’s dick with just your lips. No teeth, Babydoll. I’m gonna fuck your little mouth and then you’re gonna see how far you can go. If you have to stop to breathe, just open your mouth, ok?”

She hums her understanding around my cock and I twitch in her mouth again. I grab the back of her head and move my hips to shallowly fuck her hot wet mouth. She’s doing so good just letting me use her, and I want to fucking cum down her throat any second but I bide my time and just thrust into her nice and slowly. I stop and pull out, a string of her spit still connecting us.

She gulps in some air and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking back up into my eyes. “Can I try to see how far I can go now, Daddy?” It’s like I created the perfect little cockslut.

“Yes, Babydoll, I want you to show me how deep you can take me. Now, be a good girl and suck Daddy’s dick.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She takes me in both hands, licking the underside of my dick then taking me in her mouth. I groan in the back of my throat. She gets about halfway and then begins a slow rhythm of stroking and sucking.

Not the best blowjob, but for a beginner? Damn fine first try. She takes direction well, she’s eager, and she looks so fucking cute while sucking a dick.

I feel the coil in my stomach tightening. I was so ready to cum down her throat, but her fucking face was so pretty I wanted to mark it as mine. I run a hand through the sweat-slick hair on my forehead before throwing my head back and grunting.

“Fuck, Babydoll. Daddy’s gonna cum all over that sweet little face...ugh, fuck, close your eyes!” I pull out and shoot rope after rope of thick milky cum over her beautiful perfect face. When her tongue slips out to taste what landed on her lips, I thought I would never stop cumming.

Slowing my stroke, I squeeze from the base to the tip of my dick, I wipe the last of my cum on her chin. Luckily, none of my cum hit her lashes or eyelids. When she opens her eyes, I smiled at her. I use my thumb to move a bit of my cum between her open lips and she sucks my thumb so sweetly.

I take back my thumb and place my hand on my chest to steady my breathing.

“Daddy, I’m tired now. Can we go to bed?” She yawns lazily and the glob of cum hanging from her chin dances.

I hold in my laughter and suggest, “Wash your face first, Babydoll. Then bedtime.” I take her hand and lead her into the bathroom so she can wash her face and I can use the can. She doesn’t seem to mind me taking a piss, but she isn't covert as she glances sidelong at my dick. I flush, wash my hands after she’s done and we enter the bedroom together.

I take off the majority of my clothes, then I decide I don’t need to wear anything. We’re out here free from prying eyes, might as well sleep comfortably. And if that makes it even easier access to that pussy, why not? Removing my boxer briefs, I turn to where Babydoll is going over to her suitcase, no doubt to look for pajamas.

“Babydoll, I want you to sleep naked tonight." I settle under the covers and make myself comfortable.

“Yes, Daddy.”

I watch as she pulls down her skirt and pulls off her sweater and undershirt. That tight little body bounced slightly as she made her way over to the bed. Climbing in, she pecks me on the lips and settles down on her side with her leg pulled up.

I turn to face her and wrap an arm around her waist, pushing her leg up a bit further with my own so I can slide the head of my dick into her tight wet heat. I groan lowly as she moans from the sudden intrusion.

“We’re gonna sleep with it inside tonight. I want you to just sleep and warm my cock at the same time.” I could feel her heartbeat racing and her breath quickening as he tries to keep herself calm.

“Yes, Daddy,” She wiggles her hips in the slightest, getting used to the fullness.

“Stay still, Babydoll. Daddy’ll fuck you in the morning, ok? For now, just rest, babygirl.” I angle my hips and aim for her g-spot and she’s putty in my hands.

“Daddy, just right there, please? Please please, I won’t ask for anything else. I promise!” I can’t see her face but I can hear how easily she could cry from the tension.

“Fine, fine. But I’m fucking you to sleep, Babydoll. You better cum for me when I tell you to.” I stay inside her while moving to kneel behind her, fucking into her into the mattress.

I lean over her, my hands holding her hips as I continuously kiss her cervix with the tip of my dick. Her moans are music to my ears, along with the slapping sounds of flesh that fill the dimly lit room. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me and reach under her leg for her clit.

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick, babygirl.” I pinch her little clit between my fingers and the dam breaks.

“Yes, Daddy!” Her toes curl and her core quivers around me. Her warm wetness coats my length and it’s even easier to fuck into her now. Once I hear the squelching sound of her wet pussy, I can’t help but chase my release.

“That’s my good girl. Just like that...Daddy’s gonna fuck this tight little princess hole til you can't take it anymore. You’re doing so good taking my cock, babygirl. Fuck...fuuuuuuck. Such a perfect little pussy for me to fuck. Shit! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ugh, fuck!” I pull out and cum all over her ass and back in heavy white stripes.

I get up to grab a wet washcloth to wipe away the evidence of my orgasm. Coming back, I realize she is down for the count. Wiping her down, she hums but soft snores are soon to follow.

Well, I meant what I said when I wanted to fuck her to sleep.

The next two days are a blur of time with Daddy. The only time he has to go do something alone is the day you left. You wake up and find a note saying that he had to run out. When he comes back, he is in a bad mood and takes it out on your pussy.

You both load your bags into the Escalade and start your trip home. You sleep most of the trip home, tired from your guts being rearranged. Instead of carrying you in the house, you get a soft nudge to wake up when you are back home.

"Take your suitcase in, Babydoll. I’ll be right behind you.” He pops the trunk and meets you at the back of the SUV. You pick up your bag and head inside, going straight to your room to drop your luggage.

It’s very quiet in the house and you wonder where your Mom could be. You check the Master bedroom and the bed is made but she’s not there. The kitchen is empty, and both bathrooms are as well. It wasn’t until something catches your eye in the backyard.

Something is floating in the pool. Not something. It is someone.

You go out to the patio, looking into the water you spot your Mother’s lifeless body in the water.

Before you know it, a blood-curdling scream is escaping you and the world turns black as you’re caught by two strong arms.

Part IV

A/N: Well, that was a doozy!!! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Guess I’ll just leave this here and see what y’all think.

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