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#I am respectfully sweating
ravens-words · 1 year
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The full 6x12 Buddie Scene(s)
"Hey," and that smile.
"Guess all that company must've wore you out." I need a minute here, like- first of all, that smirk!! He knew about the plan, Maddie probably gave him a time too, but he didn't go, because he knew (hoped) Buck would come to him when he needed it.
Buck falling asleep on Eddie's couch (!!!) So so easily because he's comfortable and safe. *muffled screaming*
"Here you go, sir." Sir??? Are you kidding me?
I can't believe we finally got a talk about the shooting. Also, Eddie is a lying liar who lies (at least I hope that's what they're hinting at lol)
Buck finally admitting that he doesn't know how he's supposed to be feeling. The way he looks at him- my god.
Eddie unable to look at him when he says "you died, Buck."
"You do eventually, right? Process it?" This will never fail to break my heart because Buck's desperate, he's obviously shaken up and needs the reassurance, which Eddie gives to him in a perfect, realistic response.
And, I'll say it again, the way they look at each other.
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ashtcnirwin · 1 year
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wasn’t expecting luke in thigh high leather boots today or any other day really but here we are
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pastafossa · 1 year
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PASTA!
Go to @teamkfmartialarts on Instagram right now!! They posted a video of Charlie training for Daredevil!!!!!!!!!!!!
HOLY JESUS FUCKING TAP DANCING WINE-MAKING UNICYCLE-RIDING CHRIST, HIS ASS, I AM NOT OK
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fanhanlon · 2 years
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Look I know the Illusive Man is modelled of an entirely different real life person and voice actors aren’t the same as their characters.... but sometimes I look at young Martin Sheen and wonder
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pblovesjelly · 2 years
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Her thang… was thanging…
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sungbeam · 27 days
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𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬
jeong yunho x gn!reader
1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)
a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')
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“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.
When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.
You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.
Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”
When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”
“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”
You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”
Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.
Most likely not.
In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.
You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.
“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.
Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”
“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”
He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”
You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”
“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”
Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.
You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.
When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.
You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.
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Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?
Then you heard it.
“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.
Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”
Another sneeze.
“Yun, get your butt up here.”
He grunted. “'m fine.”
“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”
He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.
You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.
“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”
In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.
“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”
“Too tall.”
“Show off.”
He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.
When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”
A content sigh. “Better.”
Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.
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ateez m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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luvring · 1 year
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THEIR REACTION TO YOU DRESSING UP
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gn!reader | suggestive, mild swearing.
matsukawa, atsumu, hinata, kuroo, suna, osamu, sakusa, iwaizumi, tsukishima
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MATSUKAWA’s sprawled on the couch as he waits for you to show him the new outfit you bought. you had excitedly texted him before coming home, hiding the contents of your bag as you ran to change. it’s been a few minutes when he teasingly calls out, “you okay in there, babe? need help?” “no, actually i don’t, issei,” you reply, walking in. issei does a double take, mouth dropping a little. “goddamn.” the speed he gets up is almost comical. you do a slow turn, smoothing out the fabric that seems to hug you in the most perfect way. “i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this, but it’s really nice, right?” “really fuckin' nice,” he agrees, grinning. “respectfully and in love with you, i humbly ask, do you want to kiss and or make out with me right now?”
ATSUMU freezes when you walk into the bedroom. you do a quick spin and smile. “what do you think?” his eyes are wide, gaze fixated on you. “am i dead? are you an angel here to take me away?” he finally asks. you snort and make your way over, reaching to fix the collar of his shirt. “i’m gonna take that as a ‘you look good, babe,’ then.” “just good? baby, i think i’m sweating. maybe cryin’ a little,” he continues, half-joking. “‘tsumu—” atsumu shakes his head. “uh-uh, don’t say my name, i might explode.” you laugh at your boyfriend, face warm from his praise; his own flustered state keeps him from noticing yours. he shakes his head again, as if to get out of a haze. “you know what, let’s go. yeah, let’s go now before i keep you all t’myself. we’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”
HINATA spits out his drink and chokes a little. “oh my–oh my, god, sorry, i—” “shoyo?” you speed over, concerned but also trying not to laugh. “are you okay?” “huh? yeah? i’m so fine,” he says unconvincingly. his face is flushed when he looks at you, whether from the choking, embarrassment, or your outfit, you’re not too sure. then, as if he wasn’t choking a few seconds earlier, he starts showering you in compliments. “anyways, you look great, babe. like, like it really screams 'you,' you know? i bet everyone’s gonna be jealous of me.” “oh really? of you?” shoyo tilts his head, as if you asked a silly question. “well, yeah? 'cause you look this good and i get to date you.”
KUROO almost drops his keys walking through the front door. “tetsu, you’re back early.” “god, please don’t tell me i forgot about a super important event tonight.” he sounds both panicked and in awe, mind in shambles at the sight of you. you open your mouth to speak, but tetsuro's faster. “wait, don’t tell me,”—he paces toward you—“before i die, i want you to know you look incredible, and i’ll gladly be your poorly-dressed accessory for the night.” there’s a joking strain to his voice, and he sniffs before pressing his cheek to your head. “tetsu.” you laugh and pat his back. “there’s nothing happening, i just bought a new outfit and wanted to try it on.” he lets out a relieved noise between a sigh and groan then moves to look at you, now able to fully appreciate the sight. “thank god. i’m going to count that as the second win of the night then, 'cause seriously, you look so good right now.”
SUNA snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “hi, babe.” “rin! when did you get here?” “a couple of minutes ago. beelined for you after ‘tsumu shoved a drink in my hand.” you laugh and he smiles before finally registering what you’re wearing. he takes a sip from his drink at the same time his eyes scan over the new look. “this what you bought on saturday?” “hm? yeah, it’s really nice, right?” rin looks between you and his drink. “if i didn’t have manners, i would’ve thrown this glass and kissed you.” amused, you jokingly hit his stomach. “why can’t you compliment me like a normal person?” rin takes no offense, instead maneuvering so he can hold his drink while wrapping his other arm around you. he squeezes you, grinning when you yelp. “‘one, cause you look hot, and two, where’s the fun in that?”
OSAMU lets out a low whistle as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning you up and down. he gets up from the couch, and places his hands on your hips. “y’sure you have to go out tonight?” “'samu.” he laughs at your pointed look and puts his hands up in surrender. “i’m kidding, hon. you look stunning, though.” rolling your eyes, you thank him. “c’mon, i’m gonna be late if we don’t go now.” you walk to the door, but osamu thinks back to the weather forecast for the evening. “you aren’t bringin’ a jacket?” “hm? nah, we’re gonna be inside.” putting on your shoes, you respond without looking, and are surprised by the weight that suddenly covers your shoulders. you know osamu's favourite jacket from anywhere, and you let him shift it to cover you. he leans over to kiss your temple and mumbles in your ear, “now you’ll be warm and everyone will remember we’re dating.”
SAKUSA’s fingers slip from his cuff button again, earning a huff and frown from him. “‘omi, are you ready?” “yeah, can you just help me w—” he turns to the sound of your voice and pauses. the new outfit you told him about makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost forgets about his own suit predicament. “with what? oh, the button?” you make your way over to help, kiyoomi staring the entire time. “there ya go.” “you look incredible,” is the first thing he says instead of thank you. it catches you off-guard, “huh? oh. i—thank you. you look very handsome.” there’s a beat of silence as kiyomi weighs the pros and cons of going out or staying home. you have to stop yourself from laughing when he asks with a straight face, “completely related, am i allowed to be mean if anyone tries to flirt with you?”
IWAIZUMI looks up when he hears the changing room door open. you’re fixing the waist of your outfit, and don’t notice the way his eyes widen. he whispers under his breath, “holy fuck.” “haji, do you think it’s too much for the dinner? i know it’s ‘just your old teammates’ but, like, i want to look good,” you explain. his gaze softens and he clears his throat before standing. “no, it’s perfect. you look…you look perfect.” you smile at him and it’s all he can do to stop himself from covering his face and groaning. “oikawa’s going to say something about you looking better than me, and i won’t even be able to disagree.” the sound of your laughter fills the air and hajime huffs a laugh at himself. “well, we better get something just as good for you then.”
TSUKISHIMA’s not great with compliments, and he always wants to kick himself in the ass for it when it comes to you. you look at him standing behind you in the mirror. “i think this is the one. what do you think, kei?” biting his lip, he looks to the side and clears his throat. “it looks good.” he doesn’t have to look to feel you staring at him. “you sure? you don’t think it’s missing something?” kei takes a second to try thinking of a response, then he glances at your wary expression and lets out a breath. “no, i promise. you look great, and this is the best thing you could have chosen.” you smile at yourself, and his gaze softens a fraction before he’s back to being tsukishima—“you ready? because we’re going to be late if we keep standing here, and the group chat’s about to blow up our phones.”
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🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a
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lxsunshine · 2 days
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cckwarming w s4n
(dom!roomatesan x roommate!reader)
cw with s@n
you didn’t want to bother him, but he’s been in his room for almost 4 hours, just hearing some occasional yelling and groaning. you knew San was busy playing games with a group of online friends he called “ateez”, but you wanted to hang out with him, and you felt quite lonely from the lack of attention. it was the weekend so earlier, you texted up some of your other friends in hope for someone to interact with, but they were busy. so your last resort was your friendly roommate that you adored, and harbored a small crush on.
san was your age and worked as a personal trainer at a gym down the street. you had walked past his gym once and you were greeted with defined muscles covered in a sheen of sweat. he had damp hair and his grey tank top was drenched, making the shirt cling to his chest and you could see his pectoral muscles and abs on full display. you couldn’t help the rise of heat to your cheeks and the drop of your jaw if you tried. never have you seen your roommate so in his element, so sweaty so… fuck you felt a familiar heat in your lower belly and you had run back to your apartment and taken a cold shower in the shared bathroom.
since then, you’ve been noticing all the small things that San does that somehow turns you into a flustered mess. when he lounges around in grey sweats and a plain white wifebeater, your thighs clench together. when he’s in the tiny-ass kitchen with you and has to move past you, so he respectfully places his hands on your waist so he can maneuver around you, your tummy explodes with butterflies. when he makes you your morning coffee and presses a kiss to your forehead before he goes to get ready, fucking niagara falls accompanied by butterflies.
san also has a very rough voice when he first wakes up. he’s also a cuddler, which you did not expect. so imagine your surprise when you heard his alarm blaring at 7 am one morning and he wouldn’t turn it off, so you walked into his room and nudged him awake, making him groan and pull you by your arm right on top of him. then he proceeded to pull you flush against him and he nuzzled his head into your neck, groaning “not yet.” it would be an understatement to say you were burning red and almost shaking with desire.
san has never hidden his affection with you, and you’re sure that if people saw you two together, they would think you’re lovers. so now, waiting for 4 hours for some roommate bonding time, you were getting frustrated and sad. you really wanted to hang out with someone, and that someone being a buff-nerdy-gamer/personal trainer-roommate. building up your courage, you sheepishly knocked on his door and waited to hear a response. after nothing but more callouts, you sighed and opened the door. to your surprise, San was basically naked. he wore only a pair of basketball shorts and socks with his slippers. his black hair was fluffy and messy under the headphones, and his full chest was on display, hard nipples exposed to you. you swallowed hard and walked closer, making San finally notice you. he took off one headphone, seeming a bit sheepish, and he covered his chest with his arms.
“oh, hey, was i being too loud?” he asked, giving you a smile that made your heart burst. while he was taking a small break from gaming, he grabbed his water bottle and tipped it back, his throat swallowing deeply. your eyes locked on his throat and you felt yourself turning red. realizing he had asked you a question and was looking at you with a raised eyebrow, you stammered out a response.
“oh, n-no you weren’t. it’s just, you’ve been here for a while and i wanted to hang out with you for a bit… but if you’re too busy…” you trailed off, watching him fiddle with the rings he had on his right hand. your eyes greedily observed all the veins on his hands and his well-taken-care-of nails. his fingers were so nice and long, and so pretty with all the veins that clenched when he grabbed things. you imagined what his neck would look like gripping your neck, teasing your folds, finally sliding into you and curling upwa-
“hello, sweetheart?” he called you out of your filthy thoughts, a sly smile on his face and an eyebrow raised in a teasing manner. “your face is awfully red, what were you thinking about, hmm?”
you blushed even harder and nervously laughed, uncomfortably noticing how your panties were clinging to you, “nothing really, sorry i should go.”
his eyes seemed to narrow and a dark look came over his face as he grabbed your wrist, “i asked you a question and i don’t really appreciate you lying to my face.” his complete change in demeanor made you shiver with excitement and you weakly tugged at your arm. he didn’t budge and he pulled you closer to him. now your knees were touching and you looked down at him a bit.
you struggled to respond in the close proximity and you found it a bit hard to breathe, “ ‘m sorry. i was distracted by your hands.”
you wanted to die, the embarrassment heating your skin and making the room feel like a sauna. he hummed in thought, eyes flickering to your lips and then back to stare into you.
“what do you want with my hands?” he asked, voice low. his hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist reached to cup your jaw, and you felt your knees weaken at the intimacy of it all.
suddenly, his hand wrapped around your throat and he applied the slightest bit of pressure, making you whimper and fall to your knees. the sound you made spurred San on and his dick twitched in his pants at the sight of you on your knees.
“please,” you begged, not really knowing what you were begging for. you clenched your thighs together, seeking just a big of friction and he chuckled. his hand still wrapped around your throat and the other now tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“please what?” he asked, almost whispering, and he leant in so close that his lips were centimeters from your own. your eyes flickered down to his soft looking lips and you never felt a stronger urge to kiss someone than you did now.
“please touch me, hold me, anything!” you cried, one hand grabbing onto his thigh. he tsked, letting go of you and sitting back against the chair.
“you interrupted my game and now you want me to spend more time entertaining you?” he chuckled, messing with his headphones.
you felt ashamed and humiliated, but somehow that just made more arousal seep into your underwear. the way he was looking at you with lidded eyes, and his disinterested expression… you craved him. trying to express your apologies and desire, you leaned forward on your knees and nuzzled your head into his crotch. you mouthed wetly at his slightly chubbed cock through his shorts and he inhaled sharply, hand gripping his arm rest.
“fuck, you want me so bad, huh baby?” he laughed breathily and one hand gently raked through your hair. you just whined and mouthed at him again, wanting to express how much you wanted him. suddenly, his gentle caresses changed and he grabbed a chunk of your hair and pulled you, making your head snap up with a cry.
“my teammates are going to wonder where i went. i can’t let them down,” he said to you, sounding condescending and evil. you couldn’t help the flutter of your eyelids, and San laughed in shock.
“if you want me so badly, you can sit on me, princess,” he said, pulling you all the way upright onto your feet and then gesturing to his lap. you could see his hard outline sitting heavy in his lap through his damp shorts and you wanted it. you wanted him filling you up, pressing against your walls and all the nerves inside of you. you wanted him to twitch inside and fill you up with his hot release.
eagerly, you nodded and went to remove your panties from under your skirt. San’s eyes widened for a spilt second before it changed back into his nonchalant face. he leaned back into his chair and before you could step closer, he stopped you.
“you’re sure you want this? i’m going to be in you, love, and i truly want this. do you?” he asked, a bit of insecurity seeping into his voice. your heart stuttered in your chest at his consideration and you craved him even more. even though San was showing off a new exciting side, he was still your kind and loving roommate and your friend in the end.
you nodded and San cocked his brow. realizing he wanted verbal consent, you verbally agreed and he smiled with his cute dimple before he schooled his expression and motioned for you to come closer. he had you turn around so your back would be flush to his bare chest. he lifted his hips a bit and slid his shorts down a bit, pulling his cock out. he then pulled you down, so his cock rested against your folds. you ground gently a few times against him, addicted to the sounds that he made, and his cockhead caught on your entrance a few times. and then he finally slid into you. it felt a little painful from the stretch, but you were wet enough to make the slide easy. as soon as he bottomed out, you keened at how full you felt. he was thick enough to stretch you out and long enough to hit all the right places inside you. he kissed your neck, arms wrapped around your waist, and he whispered, “you doing okay? feels good?”
you moaned in response, wiggling around a bit before you tried to move. one arm wrapped tight around your waist and the other reached to hold your throat.
“i’m pretty comfortable right now,” San smirked and pulled you flush against him, making it impossible to move.
“s-san, what?” you whined, wanting to feel his cock catching on your walls and drilling into you.
“shh. sit still while i finish my round,” he bit your neck playfully while he unwrapped his arm from your waist and adjusted his headphones back on.
then he turned his mic back on and continued playing as if he wasn’t inside of you. you sat in shock but leaned back against his chest to stay comfortable. everytime he got too loud, you accidentally clenched around him, making him squeeze your neck and groan a bit.
“yo, san bro, you good over there?” a voice that was labeled Yunho in the chat called out.
he just squeezed your neck in a warning and your hips stilled (when did they start moving again?).
“all good, yunho. let’s counter-strafe,” he called out, clearing his throat. you whined softly when his hips bucked up into yours. san’s hand traveled from your neck to cover your mouth.
“shh baby, almost done and then i’ll fuck you for real. you can be good for me, right love?” he whispered, you clenched around him in response, making him curse and stumble in the game.
“clearly you can’t,” san grunted, trying to recover in the game. “don’t worry, baby. you’ll get what you deserve.”
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starshinegazer · 5 months
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On one hand, I am just looking respectfully...
On the other, I'd sell my fucking soul just to have a taste of the sweat from his brow.
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togrowoldinv · 10 months
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Heat Wave
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Natasha works outside in the heat and you watch on with (innocent) eyes
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N receiving), thigh riding, so much thirsting for Nat’s muscles hehe
Note: I am once again here with working out in the heat with Natasha. This one is fun. Enjoy!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
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It’s the first truly hot day of the year. As much as you hate the heat, the weather does have some perks.
One of them being that your wife works outside with little to no clothing on. And god does she look good.
You watch her from under the temporary shade Nat made you this morning because she knows you get hot and need to cool down.
She’s shredded her shirt from this morning and wears only a sports bra and shorts as she moves wood piles and digs in the garden.
��Do you need anything, babe?” You ask her, noticing the way the sweat drips off her muscles. Everywhere from her shoulders, her face, and even her abs are glistening.
“Maybe a drink break. And just for you to keep looking at me like that,” Natasha says. A smirk is on her face.
“Oops,” you mumble.
She walks over to your shade and you hand her a water. Nat takes it while leaving a kiss to your lips. You watch the way her body moves as she gulps down the water. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
“I know you enjoy looking,” she says once she’s swallowed the liquid.
“Respectfully, yes,” you reply.
“Hm, sure. Give me another hour and we can shower?” Nat suggests.
“Yes please,” you say.
Natasha leaves you with another kiss. This one is long enough that it leaves you wanting more.
You watch as she takes an axe to a piece of wood and her muscles flex. She chuckles at you with every swing.
When she’s finally done working, she walks to you again and this time when you hand her a water she pours some of it on her head.
“Babe, what are you doing?” You ask her.
“I’m cooling down,” she says with a shrug. “You like it, don’t you? Me being all wet?”
Your eyes go wide as you don’t know how to respond. She takes your hand and leads you towards the house.
“Nat, what about cleaning up?”
“That can wait until tomorrow,” she says.
You two practically jog into the house and it doesn’t take long for her to start taking your clothes off.
She starts with your shirt and you’ll never get over how she memorizes your body with her eyes every time she sees you like this.
By the time you’re in the bathroom, you’re only left in your underwear and Natasha is completely naked.
She turns the shower on and you both get inside. Nat lets the cool water run over her body before she pulls you flush against her.
Her thigh slots itself between your legs and you gasp.
“You’re so hot,” you tell her as she moves her thigh. You let her move against you at her own pace.
“Mhm, I’ve been thinking about this all day. How good it would feel to have you on my thigh,” Natasha says. Her words always spur you on further.
“Fuck Natasha,” you gasp as she picks up the pace. Her hands on your hips move you against her.
She kisses you deeply as she brings you closer and closer to your peak.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Nat asks.
“Yes, god, fuck Natasha,” you moan out as you come hard against her thigh.
“Good girl,” she coos as she helps your hips return to their normal pace.
“Your turn,” you say. You kneel in front of Nat and she backs up so the water is falling down her back.
You look up at the sight and it’s so beautiful the way her red hair is getting wet as you prepare to dive into her.
Natasha gets impatient and reaches for the back of your neck. She pulls you into her center and you lick through her folds. You find her soaking.
“You loved me watching you today, didn’t you?” You ask her, pulling away to tease her.
“Yeah, I did babe. Fuck me,” she says as you dive back in.
You take her clit into your mouth and she practically goes weak in the knees. She holds onto the side of the shower as you continue to eat her out.
“Fuck, detka, I’m going to come,” she says. She knows you like it when she’s this vocal.
You hum against her and that shoots her over the edge. She comes hard against your tongue and you clean her up.
When you stand again, you kiss her deeply and she holds you tight. Your breasts press together as you fall in love over again.
“I love you,” you tell her once you’ve broken for air.
“I love you too, detka,” Natasha says. “And I’m definitely going to work outside again tomorrow.”
You share a giggle and fall into a calm rhythm of conversation and actually taking care of showering duties.
Life with Natasha is absolutely perfect. Especially on days like today.
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faerunnn · 6 months
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Memories
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(GIF found Here! :D )
Hello, so i am back. With something a lil angsty, a lil fluffy. You guys should know the drill by now. Please let me know your thoughts :D
Astarion x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2464
It has been quite some time since the battle of Baldur's Gate. You all went your separate ways, occasionally catching up with one another but as time and lives went on, slowly drifting more apart. Everyone was slowly finding the lives they wanted to live. Some moved away from the city, wanting to forget it all. Some stayed around. Including you. Baldur's gate was the only place you ever truly was able to call home. And while your wanderlust had taken you to many places, you always found your way back to the city. 
You sometimes wondered how the others were doing. Wandering what could have been, wondering what was never meant to be. You miss your old companions sometimes. But their happiness was what kept you smiling when thinking back on your adventures. There was barely any room for heartache when everyone got what they wanted. Everyone but you. 
After the battle against the Elder brain you and Astarion never fully established what it was that the two of you had. The connection that was shared. There was something there, for sure. But the both of you being too stubborn to talk about it, acknowledge it. That same stubbornness led to the both of you drifting apart. Slowly but surely, until you stopped hoping that he might show up at your doorstep. Stopped visiting his place, stopped meeting at the usual spots. Your pride got in the way of your happiness, once again. The one time you felt like you truly had met your equal. A ‘’soulmate’’, if those were even real. You beat yourself up about for a while, until time got in the way. 
It has been over a year since you last saw each other. And it wasn't until tonight that you went back to one of the taverns you and your companions would occasionally meet to catch up. You rather not go there but some of your co-workers insisted you’d tag along for a drink after a very long work day. And it had been a long day indeed. You wanted to just go home, take a bath and curl up in your sheets and sleep for days. But one drink couldn't hurt, right? 
The party all gathered outside of the office and you all walked toward the familiar pub. A whiff of alcohol and sweat already hit your nose as you got closer. It must be a busy night. Maybe a famous bard was playing tonight. The music did sound quite lovely opposed to other nights of horrible out of tune lutes being played inside the tavern walls. You all gathered a small table in the corner of the main hall, scooting closer together and just catching up on life while enjoying a somewhat decent drink. The drinks have never been great here, but that somehow made you feel even more nostalgic of the many tears, laughs and memories shared in this space. You wondered if there was a way to get everyone back here sometime soon. 
‘’So,’’ one of your male co-workers turned to you. ‘’What is it truly like being the hero of Baldur's gate?” A small smirk present on his lips and a playful look swirling in his eyes. All of your co-workers knew this was a topic you’d rather not talk about. Not because you're ashamed, but there was no need to brag about all the lives it had cost to save the city, guilty or innocent. You swallowed and gave him a tight smile before taking a rather large gulp of your drink. The alcohol is now slowly starting to kick in. 
‘’Well, I suppose it is.. Flattering. I wouldn't consider myself a hero. But i am glad the city is somewhat safe again.’’ you said. Not really wanting to dig deep into the topic at all, even if you were slowly starting to feel more tipsy.
‘’Oh, come on! There must be something to tell. What about the tadpole? You were supposed to be dead, respectfully.’’ he carefully said. 
‘’Yes, I was. But I am glad I am not. Though I wouldn't recommend anyone carrying a worm inside their head, it did save my life in a way. The experience itself was rather unusual, I suppose. I don't think there's anything I can compare it to.’’ as you start talking you hear a bit more commotion on the other side of the room. But from your angle you can't tell what's going on. Probably another tavern fight between two drunk sailors. Wouldn't be the first time. After a quick glance that way you quickly return to your conversation. 
‘’What about your companions? Do you still see them?’’ A female co-worker asked you nervously. 
‘’Uhm, we uhm. We occasionally see each other yes.’’ Not a complete lie. But these people didn't need to know the whole truth. ‘’Does anyone want another drink?’’ you quickly ask before any more questions on the topic could arise. You get up from the table and walk up to the bar to order another round for the whole table. Your last, you decided. It has been a long day and sleep was going to creep up on you soon. You look back at your colleagues while you wait and reminisce about the times that table was filled with your companions instead. 
After a short while you take the drinks back to the table and join in on the conversation that had been started while you were gone when all of a sudden the commotion rose again. But this time it was loud, and people started getting out of the way.  It was then that you noticed it was indeed a fight. While you were about to roll your eyes and take a big gulp of your drink you recognized a certain mop of white hair and pointy ears. Oh god. Your eyes widened. Your body froze. It was him. Fighting an orc almost twice his size.. In the middle of a tavern. He was wearing an all black outfit, which looked almost too good on his body. A dagger held to the neck of the orc as he held him in place. Reminding you of the time the two of you had met. He really hasn't changed much. 
You got up from where you were sitting and got a little closer to the situation, trying to blend in with the crowd whilst figuring out what the hell had happened. You saw coins scattered on the table, drinks that once had been in tankards spilled over the floor and chairs. 
‘’You better watch your damn mouth around here, elf.’’ The orc said. Trying to push himself back to his feet. ‘’Others might not show you the same mercy.’’ as he pushed Astarion from his frame, he got up. Gathered some of his coins and turned around to leave. Whilst Astarion did the same. You looked back at your colleagues and they were too caught up in their own conversations to notice you left the table again. You made a split decision, not even really thinking while your legs just carried you out of the tavern the same way he left. 
He was already well out in the street again while the darkness of the night was about to lure him back into the shadows. You almost panicked, you didn't even know what you were going to say to him once you confronted him with your presence. You just let your feet carry you.
The weather had changed from a somewhat chilly afternoon to a rainy evening. Making your vision even worse. You kept on walking until you reached a crossroads. He has slipped from your vision, unknown which turn he had made, you looked around once more. Hoping to catch a glimpse of his frame. Alas, he was gone. You sighed in defeat as you wanted to turn back around, making your way back to the tavern. Coming up with an excuse as to why your clothes and hair are drenched. A small tear slipped from your eye, blending in perfectly with the raindrops that had been collecting on your cheeks. You looked down at your clothes, now completely soaked. But you didn't care anymore. Something in you stirred. A feeling you had buried deep within the depths of your heart. A flame reigniting slowly. Love. a feeling you had not felt in a while. Even only seeing him, so briefly, it brought everything back up. You looked up into the sky, closed your eyes and took a deep breath before finally turning around, walking back. Maybe you needed this. A very cruel way of the universe telling you to let him go. Fully letting him go. No more small hopes, no more wishing he would magically be on your doorstep. He slipped from your grasp tonight. Maybe rekindling was never an option to begin with.
You took a few steps back toward the tavern, hands wrapped around your own body to somewhat comfort yourself in a way. No more tears were going to be shed on the topic. It had been too long. You deserved happiness, peace. You had fought your battles. And now it was time to find your place in this life. 
‘’What's a lady like yourself doing alone on the streets at this hour?’’ a creepy voice behind you said all of a sudden. You quickly froze, and looked around. Trying to find the body that matched the voice. You found none. You quickly tried to make your way back to the tavern but realized it would still be quite the distance. And with the rain clouding your vision, you didn't really know if you were walking in the right direction. Panic rushed through your body as you tried to make out which way to go, not wanting to get lost. Suddenly a hand made its way around your waist. Roughly pulling your body into a  much larger frame. You tried to get yourself out of the grasp of the stranger but you were unable to, he was too strong. You looked over your shoulder and recognised him. It was the orc from the tavern fight. 
‘’This is a dangerous place for someone like you, you know. I should bring you somewhere safe.’’ he said, getting awfully close to your neck. He held you in a tight embrace, there was no way to get out of his grasp. ‘’I know just the place to treat a nice lady like yourself exactly the way she deserves to be treated. All the things i am going to do to yo–’’ He couldn't finish his sentence, as he started sputtering and coughing up blood. Covering your clothes and hair in drops of his bodily liquids as his body went limp behind you, you quickly got out of his grasp and stumbled forward when your foot got caught on a piece of cobblestone. You stumbled forward and cried out when your body hit the ground, hard. You took a quick peek over your shoulder whilst crawling away and saw the orcs body lay there, lifeless and cold.  A tall frame looming over his body. The figure then bent down and retrieved a dagger from the orcs neck. He wiped it clean on his clothes and slit it back into the sheath on his belt. You were terrified. You see the frame walking closer toward you as you try to get up and run away again. There were times where murder didn't bother you. But that life was in your past now. This was not the reality you wanted to live out anymore. Too much blood had been shed by your hands. 
As you were trying to regain your balance you noticed that your wrist had taken too much of your weight when you fell. You didn't know if it was broken or just badly sprained, but it hurt like hell either way. The frame got closer to you and that's when you noticed. 
The white hair, pale skin. Red eyes that had never been more aflame than they were in this moment. It was Astarion. He saved your life. You gasped when he was close enough to fully be in your vision. The very dim street lights are not doing him justice. He had never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. His curly hair now sticking to his face from the rain, concern in his eyes. You both stared at each other in silence for a moment before you took a step toward him and pulled him into your frame. A soft sob leaving your lips as you felt him slowly wrap his arms around you, pulling you so close, like he was never going to let you go again. 
‘’I’m sorry.’’ he said softly after staying in the moment for a while. You look up at him in confusion. ‘’I am sorry that I didn't try hard enough. I am sorry that I never really told you how I felt. I am sorry that–’’ before he could even continue his unnecessary apologies you kissed him. Softly, so tenderly. Hands cupping his cheeks. He was taken aback by your action but quickly melted into the kiss. A hand going up to the back of your neck, one lingering on your lower back. You pull back from him for a second and look into his eyes, trying to see if there's any form of hesitation in his stare. But there isn't. 
‘’You don't have to say sorry. If anyone has to apologize it is me. I should've told you how I felt. I should've made the effort too. I guess this is on both of us. But I want you to know there has not been a day where I haven't thought about you.’’ you say. ‘’There are many things that have stopped me in the past. Many things I feared. But I am done being scared.’’ 
You look into his eyes. A small smile crept on his lips while you were talking. One you have missed so much, one you had been hoping to see every day for the past year. But fear has gotten the best of you. Your ego being too fragile, too weak. A small young girl, frightened of abandonment, had been making decisions in your life to make the risk as small as possible. But you were done with being afraid. You would rather risk the fear than live the rest of your days alone. 
Astarion pulled you close again and placed a small kiss on your forehead. 
‘’This is where our future begins.’’ 
And it was then that you fully realized, he is more of yourself than you are. Whatever our souls are made of, his and yours were the same.
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 3 months
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hi mo! i want to wish you a HUGE congrats on your milestone (: you deserve every single follow and like and reblog! your writing is so, so good and it brings me sm comfort if youre still taking requests, can i pls request alfie + “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”
Oh Noni this was so sweet! You are so so kind. It brings me immense joy that my writing brings you comfort. That is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. I’m sending all my love to you darling, I hope you enjoy this.
Guys this is the last request from our 100 Follower Celebration!!! This was so fun and I am so in love with the community we have built here together!!! I’m currently working on our final installment of Interviews for New Beginnings!!! Anyway I love y’all so much, have an amazing day my loves!! - Mo
100 Follower Celebration: Always
Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cursing
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“Mr. Solomons. I know you don’t want to hear this… or anything I’ve said the past 10 years I’ve been your physician… but you really need to watch your stress levels sir. It may very well kill you one day.”
Dr. Young had been treating Alfie Solomons exclusively for 10 years. Every stab wound, bullet hole, and influenza season had been watched over diligently by the good doctor. But every month his largest concern was Alfie Solomons’ blood pressure and tension headaches. Unfortunately for Dr. Young… Alfie Solomons was the worst patient he ever had.
Alfie ripped the stethoscope off his burly chest and threw it back at his doctor, “Bah fuck off. Respectfully of course. I’m fine. I’m going to live longer than you mark my words. Stress is good for the body.”
Dr. Young shrugged, there was no use fighting with Alfie. Usually Alfie would see reason and silently beckon and repent right before death came knocking, “If you believe Mr. Solomons. Anyway I want you to keep counting your pulse and recording it. Not that you’ll do it I wager. But I’ll be back same time next week.”
“Yeah, right. See Ollie gives you your fee. And double check with my secretary that your window is still open.”
Dr. Young smiles, “I’ll be sure to let her know that I gave you a task so that she keeps you accountable as well.”
As he walked out, leaning heavily on his wooden cane to offset his heavy medical bag, Alfie hollered after him, “You will do no such thing damn you! Ask her the schedule and nothing else!”
Alfie hears the slight chuckle of his ancient physician behind the closed door. Alfie finally lets out the sigh of relief he had been holding tightly all morning. His head falls into his calloused hands. The slow and rhythmic push and rush of his palms against his eyes and temple soothe the panging and banging in his head. An ache that has been ever present for the past few days. One that hasn’t been aided at all by the lack of water in his day to day.
The past few days have been Alfie’s own personal hell. The Americans’ prohibition on spirits has added another layer of problems to the business. New men had been hired and were not all bright, causing more mistakes than their bodies were worth. Cops were getting greedy, and were needing more to smooth their hands and seal their lips. Usually, a boss would have been able to hand off problems to lower levels. Not Alfie. Never Alfie. Alfie doesn’t get to give jobs to anyone else. No one wants to help Alfie. Alfie is to solve every problem. By himself. If he doesn’t do it, it will not get done. If he doesn’t fix it, everything will fall. But it’s always been like this. Ever since his father passed away, he’s been the man. He’s been the fixer. The protector. The boss. The leader. He alone can do it. He alone does it. He alone. He is alone.
Through the barricade of his stress and rage and sweat and stiff muscles, he hears his door click open, and the soft tap of your feet across the floor boards. Your sweet bell voice tingles his nerves, “Alright Alfie I set up Dr. Young’s appointment next week so you are all settled. This afternoon you have two more meetings. Mr. Yusef and Mr. Edmonds. Also you will need to look over the shipping particulars for the shipment to New York in three we- Alfie are you alright?”
You pause looking at his face. He’s always looked rather scruffy and wild but this was different. His face was gaunt and ashen. His usually ruddy cheeks were pale and covered in a thin sheen of sick sweat. Those bright blue and sparkling eyes looked glossy. If you didn’t know better… they could almost be tears.
You don’t even let him try and explain away his symptoms.
“We’re cancelling the rest of your meetings today. No arguements.”
Screaming. Shouting. Bellowing. The glass in the window panes shake. The wood of the desks bang like the sound of gunshots and canons. “VILE WOMAN YOU TOUCH THAT CALENDAR YOU ARE FIRED DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU BRING YOURSELF BACK HERE NOW!”
You ignore him, calling the other secretaries, having to shout over the bellows and cries of your melodramatic yet beloved boss. The excuse you concocted didn’t matter. You wouldn’t care to remember the story you told. You would deal with it later. What mattered was clearing the calendar to make sure that Alfie could be released from his bindings that he so tightly wound around himself cutting the circulation and breath of peace.
You set the cornflower blue and cream colored tea pot on the little stove in the corner. Gingerly stoking the flame, coaxing warmth and light into a sweet roar. You call for hearty treats from the bakery next door, a good array to settle the spirit of your war laden boss. Soon the tea is ready and the soulful remedies are set. The roaring of the animal in the office has settled into rumbles. It was safe to enter.
Upon entering Alfie is again shouting, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve treacle. I am your boss. I am your superior officer. I pay your paycheck. And you have the absolute fucking audacity to…”
You let the hot words wash over you like a summer storm. You place your tools of healing on Alfie’s desk, swiftly and quietly. You take your spot in your chair across from him, grabbing his worry worn wooden pipe and filling it with his tobacco. Like a dance you’ve done a thousand times, he gingerly takes that pipe from you as he’s still yelling and scolding, pausing briefly to light it and suck in that air like it’s his last meal.
You smile as he blusters on like a thunder cloud. There was no true threat. You would never really be fired. Even if he was cross with you. There was a certain comfort in the noise. Like the storm cloud the noise signified that there was still life and that a calm would soon follow. But there was still the tightness in his shoulders. There was still that look you saw before he started to storm and blow. In a feat of courage you cocked your head to the side, “When was the last time someone hugged you?”
Immediate silence.
“What. What the fuck did you just ask me?”
“When’s the last time someone hugged you? You look like you need one sir.”
His index finger might as well have been a loaded pistol the way he pointed at you, “Men do not hug. I have never been hugged nor will I ever hug do you hear me? Hugged?! It’s even a ridiculous word. I mean… hugged?! No! I don’t want one I don’t need one that is completely and utterly ridiculous!”
You smile, knowing that he would say something like that. As if approaching a wild dog you put your hand out, offering yourself to him. Offering your vulnerability to him. Alfie stared down as thought it held an invisible gun, unsure what it was you held. Carefully and out of practice, he slowly slipped his hand in yours. Cool and smooth fingertips against is hot rough hands. Your hands so easily slips around his, finally finding its home. To Alfie’s absolute shock, he watches as your perfect thumb runs patterns and circles around his scarred knuckles and ornate rings. He watches the way your lashes flutter and soft smile blooms on your face. In a gentle caress to his ears you say, “You know you don’t have to keep it all inside. You can ask for help.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. But doesn’t move his hand away, “I don’t need help.”
You laugh, and he feels his heart skip, “Oh I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you could run this entire thing by yourself.”
“I could.”
“I know.”
Alfie hums, satisfied that he’s won enough. You sit in silence, the muffled sounds of the distillery and street below being the only signs that you’re still on Earth. Alfie never moved his hand, never responding to your ministrations beyond a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you… for… being here.” Alfie finally breaks the silence. He can’t help the blush that rises to his ears and cheeks. He can’t look away from the smile on your perfect lips.
You nod at him, squeezing his hand and shaking it. “Always.”
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usedtobecooler · 1 year
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would looooove to see a plus size reader who is a virgin but like knows how to get herself off, she’s very familiar with her vibrator and dildo. and eddie??? sweet subby (switchy if ur nasty) eddie who is also a virgin and while he is a perv he’s also a blushing FOOL when it comes to pretty girls. and he’s absolutely gobsmacked by how comfortable the reader is talking about sex. they start talking about their experiences and he’s thrown for a loop when she says she’s a virgin. like ?????? he needs her to ride his face right now cause she’s perfect and he neeeeeds her. something about a sort of confident plus size woman bossing eddie around does it for me. maybe it’s because i am a sort of confident plus size woman but that’s neither here nor there tbh!!!!! lol anyway pointless rant over
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a/n | respectfully anon i think you wrote this prompt with me literally in mind because you've described me as a person (y'know, apart from the virgin part) and the perfect soft eddie that i've had engrained in my brain. i hope that i've done it justice and this is everything you imagined!
warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), use of sex toys, face sitting, hair pulling, virginity taking (eddie taking readers virginity), unprotected sex (wrap it, guys!), oral (f receiving), dirty talking, sub!eddie, perv!eddie, reader is a bully but in a soft way, plus size!reader.
word count | 2.3k
If you were to ask Eddie how this happened, he'd feign innocence and pretend like it was all a simple, innocent mistake, how he ended up in this situation. He couldn't find it in himself to be nauseated with his actions when his face was buried in your pussy like this.
"What do you mean you're a virgin?" Eddie had asked, shocked and a clear look of bewilderment in his eyes when you had confessed to him your big secret. Virgins in their twenties were few and far between and he couldn't believe that you were one of them.
In his eyes you were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever set eyes on, plump in all the places he liked (which was everywhere, really, he loved how perfectly your soft body fit in his hands), the perfect mixture of cute and hard faced, the way you gave the guys a run for their money at everything because you were just so naturally good at anything you tried a hand at.
"Eddie, c'mon, look at me. Guys aren't lining up around the block to date me, I'm not your typical girl next door, like Nancy Wheeler." You were all matter of fact in your words as you shrugged, it was no big deal, men sucked and were notoriously bad at female anatomy anyway. So, why would you look for sex from men when you were happy with what you could do to yourself and had your box of treasures to look to?
"I know a few guys who like you, sweetheart, you just don't give them a chance." Eddie's heart raced as he spoke to you, because yeah, he does know of a few guys who like you. He sees the way men ogle you up and down when you're turned the other way, he hears them whistle when you walk by. You're oblivious, but he isn't.
"I have Mr. Bunny and a massage wand. Why would I need a man when I have them?" You'd quipped, tilting your head in question. You had made it no secret you were into your own sexual desires and chose to delve into them yourself, you were probably the only sex positive chick Eddie had ever met. Not a priss like most, comfortable enough to know what you liked and chase it.
"I'm not gonna ask what those are." Eddie said, pretending like he had no clue but his palms had began sweating and his cock had kicked up a little at the thought of you using toys to touch yourself with. The conversation had wrapped abruptly after that and you had all but forgotten it once you got home.
So, yeah, screw him for getting a little curious and stopping by when he knew your parents weren't home, claiming he'd left his chain (which never came off, by the way) the last time he'd visited, bouldering up the stairs and coming face to face with you laid out on your bed, surrounded by soft pillows and going to town on yourself with said 'massage wand'.
You were covered over with an oversized Sabbath shirt, though your fingers were rubbing circles around your clothed left nipple with your free hand, chunky thighs spread so he could see everything as your wand buzzed along your clit, causing you to choke out small whimpers and sighs. Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth hung open slightly as the pleasure coursed through you.
He'd stood there quietly for longer than he'd ever admit to, but Eddie couldn't tear his eyes off of you. The way you were out in the open like this, dripping wet cunt on display for anybody to see if they walked in.
"God, oh my God." Your mouth had opened in a broken whine, moans choked as you came, body shuddering through it and a damp patch forming below you on your grey comforter from your release. You'd stayed like that with shut eyes for a moment after, eventually switching the vibrator off and suddenly the silence was deafening.
Eddie was almost backing his way out of the door when you opened your eyes, bugging out slightly for a second but then you'd relaxed not even a moment later, body going soft as you snuggled back down into your pillows, "Enjoy the show then, handsome?" You asked, smirking at Eddie who was standing there like a deer caught in headlights.
"I, uh, I'm really sorry," Eddie's cheeks were flushing a deep shade of red, embarrassment taking over him as he stood there with a clear erection in his tight jeans. You made no move to shut your legs properly, only shuffling a little to let the muscles rest, your glistening pussy still clearly in his frame of sight. It had done nothing to help his problem.
"Are you just gonna stand there and look stupid or do you want some help with that?" You'd motioned towards his cock with your head, never losing the smirk on your face as you'd done it.
Only somehow once Eddie had eventually moved his feet it ended up like this, you hovering over the top of him as he lay flat on his back in the plush pillows on your bed, his face buried so deep in your sweet pussy he could hardly breathe, though he wouldn't be mad if that was the way he was gonna go.
His hands squeeze your thighs tightly, and you have to admit he's so good at this, licking and sucking on your clit like his life depends on it whilst you fist at his hair, wide hips fucking back and forth on his face in tandem with his tongue.
"You're such a little perv," You gasp, shuddering as his tongue breaches your hole and fucks up into you gently, you take the opportunity to get your fingers on your clit and rub it in little circles, "comin' in here to catch a glimpse of me fucking myself. Dirty boy."
Eddie whines into your cunt, gripping your thighs impossibly tighter and you don't miss the feeling of his body lifting off the bed slightly, clearly looking for some sort of relief. He's looking at you with his big, wet eyes, clearly watching to see if you're genuinely enjoying it and not just putting on the noises.
But you'd never felt like this before, every sound leaving your lips was genuine, and suddenly your fingers were being nudged away by his nose, your sensitive clit being assaulted by Eddie's sinful tongue again, this time fast and with purpose, in desperation of helping you chase your orgasm.
Your fingers wrap even tighter in his hair now, mouth falling open into loud and desperate whines, your impending orgasm building in your tummy so rapidly you have no time to think about it before your thighs are squeezing Eddie's head impossibly tight, legs shaking and hips fucking into his face with a cry of his name, "Oh my God, Eddie!"
Once he's sure you're done, Eddie finally comes up for a proper breath of air, though he immediately goes to attacking your thighs, nipping and sucking them hard enough to leave blooming purple bruises, staking his claim to you. All you can do is watch in admiration because you were sure men like this didn't exist outside of movies.
"Was that good for you?" He asks, voice all quiet and timid as he looks up at you through his thick lashes, glossy brown eyes swimming with something, like he's looking for validation that he did a good job.
"It was incredible, Eds," Your voice is all fucked out, "you did so good, can't believe how good it was."
Eddie keens at your praise, cheeks flushing dark and a stupid big grin spreading over his face, "Good, I'm glad your first sexual encounter was a decent experience."
You furrow your brows at him, moving to shuffle off of Eddie and settle next to him on the bed, "Who said it was over yet?" You ask, all orgasm dumb, "I asked you if you needed help and you ended up servicing me, isn't it meant to go that we help each other out?"
"Not necessarily, sweetheart," Eddie chuckles, making to sit up but then your hand comes out to push him back down, black stiletto shaped nails digging into his chest a little, "woah, babe, you don't have to do anything for me."
Your hand ghosts down his chest, stopping at the obvious tent in his jeans and you don't miss the way he hisses, sucking in a sharp breath even from that little movement, "But I want to. Don't you want to fuck me?"
If Eddie hadn't of known you he'd of thought your words were slightly insecure and child-like, but he knows you well enough to know you're putting on a whiney voice because you want him to fuck you without a second thought, like he would any other chick who asked, and not his best friend who hadn't even been touched by a man before.
"Sweetheart, that's a big step and I don't want you to feel like you're having to do this." Eddie rests his hand on top of yours, trying to gently push it away from his cock but you don't let him, batting it out of the way.
"Who else would I trust enough to give it to?" You ask, cocking your head to the side, "I trust you, silly. That's why I want this."
Eddie sucks in a breath, cock clearly kicking up a little in his pants and you gasp when you feel it, palm and fingers squeezing him slightly until he's shuddering.
It all happens in a bit of a blur, but suddenly you're under Eddie as he hovers over you in between your spread legs, your deft fingers unbuckling his belt and popping the button on his jeans. He helps you slide them down his thighs and then he kicks them off, leaving him bare from the waist down the same as you.
Your eyes bug out a little bit at the sight of his cock springing up, unapologetic and big. He's girthy and a lot longer than your rampant rabbit toy, and suddenly you're gulping, nervousness settling in even though you feel your cunt clench around nothing as you look.
Eddie catches this, catching your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, "Hey, we don't have to do this. Just say the word."
"Just fuck me, idiot." You sigh, caught off guard a little when Eddie grabs hold of his cock by the base and lets the tip glide in between your folds, catching and dragging on your clit so nicely that you're gasping.
The initial breach of his cock is a surprise, not necessarily uncomfortable but not good either. You suck in a breath and Eddie looks at you with worried, glassy eyes until you nod to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out eventually, filling up your cunt in a way that has you gasping for air and clenching your tight walls around him.
You don't miss how he hisses, the gorgeous moan that escapes his mouth, face softening a little. He's absolutely beautiful like this, all wanton and soft, submissive looking.
"Y'gonna move or are you worried you'll bust a nut too quick?" You quip, though it doesn't come out as mean as you planned because your voice is all breathy and stuttered from how full you feel.
Eddie chuckles a little, grabbing onto your thick thighs to use for purchase as he pulls back just a few inches, rocking into you slowly, "Is this okay?" He asks through a moan, and you can't believe how stupidly kind he's being.
"Yeah, s'good. You can speed up." You say honestly, enjoying the slight burn that you feel as he shifts. It's not terrible, you think, probably due to already coming twice before even getting this far.
"M'gonna come ridiculously fast," Eddie admits, before he pulls back properly and slides back into you, causing you both to moan in tandem. One of his hands slides under your shirt, roaming your soft tummy whilst the other grips your thigh as he starts a good rhythm.
Soon, you're a whining, moaning mess, "Fuck, Eddie," you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight, "this feels so good, God."
"I know," Eddie's closer to you now, foreheads basically bumping as he fucks into you, his pace speeding up as he chases his high, "your pussy feels like fuckin' heaven around me."
You clench around his cock at his words, a broken cry escaping you, "Yeah?" You ask, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair tightly and you open your eyes to look into his, "Come, then. Come in me."
Eddie's mouth opens in a quiet moan, as he shoves forward a bit rougher, hips stunted a little as he comes, a feral grunt escaping him as he shoves into you to the hilt, your tight cunt milking him so deliciously he feels like he's died and gone to heaven.
You don't dwell on the fact you didn't come too, so busy looking at Eddie as he collapses onto the swell of your tits that you don't care. You knew it probably wouldn't happen, anyway. That'd happen eventually though, you were sure.
Your hands sooth at Eddie's scalp as you feel his cock soften in you, "Thank you for making my first time so good, handsome." You whisper, heart fluttering as he keens into your touch, "Couldn't of asked for anybody better."
"You're more than welcome, sweetheart." Eddie's voice sounds sleepy, muffled against your breasts, "You just say the word and we can do it again."
You giggle a little at that, "That sounds good. Maybe I can get on top next time."
You ignore the way his spent cock perks up a little at your words, giggling again as you begin to drift off.
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strangersmunsons · 6 months
Text
read 'em and weep #2
you and Eddie have an impromptu lunch.
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Chapter 2 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 1 -> Here!
Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lovesick!Eddie, meal-sharing, budding romance, The Last Unicorn, ugly flashbacks, and Wayne Munson: #1 Uncle. No description of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: mentions of food & eating; allusions to Eddie's experience of abuse/neglect and its negative effects. (please note: I want to handle these topics delicately & respectfully - if there are issues with the way I've written that portion of the chapter, please tell me!) Word Count: ~3.4k if u are one of the big sweeties that replied or left comments on chapter one of this fic, just know that i read it over and over again while giggling and kicking my feet in the air. i am giving u a big wet forehead kiss!
The lamp on the end table is flickering weakly, yellowish light dimming and brightening and dimming again, over and over.
Without looking up from the worn paperback spread over his knee, Eddie quickly bangs on the table with his fist. It rocks slightly on its wobbly legs, but the bulb ceases its flashing.
'Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.' 
Eddie arches a dark eyebrow, impressed. Damn. I’m gonna have to try that. 
It’s hot in the trailer. The fan Wayne has set up on the floor by the TV offers little relief against the balmy air, and Eddie’s bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat. He’s tied his hair up as high on his head as he could get it, desperate to get the mass of curls off of his neck. 
It’s been two days since he last saw you and he’s been reading as though his life depends on it. A few pages with his morning toast and coffee, a chapter on his lunch break, and in the evenings – though he sat in the living room with Wayne – he kept his eyes trained down on the book in his lap, rather than the fritzy television screen.
His uncle had taken notice. He eyes the way his nephew’s shoulders hunch forward, the tip of his tongue poking out between his closed lips, the way his brow is furrowed in deep concentration.
“Take it easy, Ed. You look like you’re tryin’ to lay an egg over there.”
“Huh? Oh,” Eddie shifts back in his seat, face relaxing into a sheepish grin. “Yeah, okay.”
Wayne’s demeanor would appear gruff to most. But in spite of the surly pull of his mouth, the older man’s got this tell-tale twinkle in his eye that nobody recognizes better than Eddie.
“Good book? That looks new.”
“Yeah, s’from the library. I got a couple of ‘em.”
Wayne nods in approval. “Glad you’re branchin’ out. That copy you have of The Hobbit is fallin’ apart. Best you leave it be for a while,” he jokes.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Hey, it was pretty beat up when I got it. I don’t think I’m the one to blame for that,” he retorts, staring pointedly at Wayne. 
Wayne simply waves him off, an amused smile buried beneath his graying whiskers.
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The next day, Eddie’s van sidles up the street towards the library – he’s acting on a strike of inspiration from the previous night. As he’d lain in bed, he’d been despairing over the fact that it was going to take him much longer than he’d like to get through all those books and, consequently, he had no idea when he’d be able to come and see you again to chat about them.
He’d let his head loll off the side of the bed, the back of his hand flung over his eyes in theatrical melodrama, when it occurred to him that he didn’t necessarily say he was only going to come back after reading all of them.
Instead, he’d go through them one by one, and pay you a visit after each book was finished.
God, he was a genius. Why’d it take him so long to finish high school?
Eddie pulls into a space and cuts the engine. He peers at himself in the rearview mirror, nervously smoothing his hands over his hair, which is already starting to frizz from the humidity. That’ll have to do, I guess. He grabs the book from where it’s lying on the passenger seat and exits, practically bouncing on his heels. There’s a bit of a flutter in his belly, something between excitement and anxiety; but more than anything else, he’s just eager to see you again.
So naturally, he’s disappointed when he gets inside and you’re not at the front desk. 
Figuring you must be poking around the shelves somewhere, he sets off to find you. He ducks a left towards the fiction section and, when he walks by her, gives a stiff nod to Marissa, the uptight librarian. She returns the gesture with a steely gaze and wrinkled nose.
Eddie huffs. What did she expect him to do – steal from the library, where everything is free with a card? Only a Munson could take advantage of a public institution funded by taxpayers and still be made to feel like a criminal.
Eddie strides through the library, glancing in each aisle to see if you’re there. When he reaches the final row of shelves, he makes a loop around, strolling back up the other side, searching. He’s so focused on finding you that he’s completely oblivious to staff room door coming up on the wall to his left, until it swings open and smacks him in the face.
“Ow!”
There’s a horrified gasp. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
Eddie can see your blurry figure – oh there she is – through the hand that’s massaging the bridge of his nose, and he instantly straightens back up. “That’s alright,” he says with a wince. “I’ve had worse, trust me.”
You look mortified anyway. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he assures you. “No harm, no foul.”
“I’m so sorry,” you repeat, mouth pulled down in a worried grimace.
“It’s okay,” he says with a soft laugh. “Don’t worry.”
It’s quiet for a moment, neither of you sure of what to say next. Then both of you start to speak at the same time.
“Oh, sorry –”
“No it’s fine, go ahead –”
“You first.”
This is going well. “I was just bringing this back,” Eddie tells you, holding up the book in his hand. “And I believe I did promise to tell you whether or not I cried while reading it.”
The hesitant, awkward look on your face immediately dissolves and turns into something sweeter, a smile so bright and pretty it nearly knocks the wind out of him. He thinks it’s like watching the sun break through the clouds.
“Done already?” You sound impressed. There’s a swell of pride in his chest – nevermind the fact that it wasn’t really a long book.
Eddie shrugs modestly. “What can I say? I’m a speed reader.” He tries to say it nonchalantly, but his cheeks dimple in a suppressed smile. 
You fold your arms over your chest and lean back on your heels, taking a good look at him. He flushes under your appraisal.
“Well…” Your lips pucker as you contemplate what to say next. “I can’t take the book yet, because I’m actually off the clock right now,” you explain. “I was just heading out for lunch.” You give the red lunchbox in your hand a little shake.
“Oh,” Eddie replies, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“But,” you continue, with a giddy tremble in your voice that Eddie’s not sure is real or simply a product of wishful thinking, “if you’re not too busy, you can join me. If you still want to talk about it.”
He’s on cloud nine.
“Sure,” he says.
When he follows you, he feels like he’s floating.
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The two of you end up outside, at one of several rickety picnic tables on the lawn behind the building. It’s still too warm outside for Eddie’s taste, but the shady elms provide a bit of reprieve.
Eddie takes a seat on the bench; you perch yourself on the flat tabletop. He tries not to stare at your bare knees, which are just exposed beneath the hem of your skirt, and dappled with the small dots of sunlight that sneak through the leaves above.
Instead, he watches you remove the contents of your lunch, arranging each item carefully on a napkin covering the space between you and him. A thick slice of brown, sweet-smelling bread; a small orange and a Tupperware with strawberries; two hardboiled eggs; and a carton of peach yogurt. 
You pick up the orange first, nick the soft flesh with your thumbnail, and start peeling away the rind. 
“So,” you begin, gaze focused on the piece of fruit in your hand, “The Last Unicorn. Did you like it?”
Eddie lets out an breathy chuckle. “I really did, actually.” 
“You sound surprised.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” he admits. “No offense.”
“No, I get it. I tell people all the time to read it and they never do, I guess ‘cause the title sounds kind of corny. But it’s so good.”
“It was good,” he agrees. “But it did make me sort of sad in certain parts.”
You nod mournfully in understanding, not needing him to elaborate. “I know.”
“That bit at the end, about regret.” Eddie flips to a specific page, the corner dogeared to mark the place. His intonation changes, becomes deeper and richer, the same way it does when he’s sitting in his DM throne: “‘I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.’” He snaps the book shut again, voice returning to normal. “That’s pretty heavy stuff – you know, for a unicorn.”
“So did you cry?” you ask excitedly.
He sucks air in through his teeth, like he’s about to deliver bad news. “I hate to break it to you, but no.” You cock your head to the side in suspicion. 
“If you did, would you really tell me?” 
“I would.” He draws an X across his chest with a ringed finger. “Cross my heart.” You could get anything out of him, he was sure.
“Hmm.” You tap a finger against your lips in mock contemplation. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
You finish peeling the orange, and start pulling it apart into pieces. You gather a few slices in your palm, and hold them out to Eddie in offering. He leans back abruptly, feeling a squirm of embarrassment.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to give me anything.”
“Food is meant to be shared,” you say simply. “Have some.”
He stares at your outstretched hand, and you wait patiently, clearly not taking no for an answer.
Eddie takes the fruit hesitantly. “Isn’t it bad enough that I’m already out here bugging you on your lunch? Now I’m actually gonna eat some of it, too?”
The look on your face is comical. Stern, but impish, and made even funnier by the wad of half-chewed pulp bulging in one of your cheeks. “Well, first of all, I invited you out here. Second, yes, you’re going to eat some of it. You see this?” You hold up the big orange chunk. “It’s a clementine. As it grows, the insides conveniently divide into these little segments that are so easy to pull apart and dole out, it’s practically a faux pas not to share them with someone. Plus!”– you jab a finger at him for emphasis –“You significantly decrease your chances of contracting scurvy.”
Eddie’s in utter disbelief – he wants to bury his face in his hands and scream. He’s not sure how else to cope with this, with you, with the sudden certainty that he’ll fucking die if you don’t agree to go out with him soon. Instead he settles for, “Are you trying to tell me something? Do my gums look weird?”
“No.”
“Would you really tell me if they did?”
“I would,” you tell him, echoing his earlier statement. “Cross my heart.”
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You and Eddie continue snacking and chattering on, both of you trying to cram in as much conversation as you can before your lunch ends. 
“Here, this is the part that gets me – when Molly meets her for the first time – ‘Where were you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?’ God.” You shake your head. “They kept that scene in the movie, and I cried then, too. It made me so sad.”
At the mention of the film, Eddie sees his chance, and decides to take it. He wets his full lips, and squares his shoulders. He keeps his voice as casual as possible. “You know I recognized the author’s name, but not from his books.”
That piques your interest. “Oh yeah?”
“Yep. Peter Beagle also wrote the Lord of the Rings screenplay. From that cartoon movie they made like ten years ago.”
“No way! I didn’t know that. I’ve never seen it.”
Perfect. Eddie contorts his face into a mask of devastation. “What?!” He suddenly wrenches himself up from the bench, and backs a few paces away, like you’ve got something contagious. “You wound me, sweetheart. I thought you were cool.”
You raise an eyebrow at him in good humor. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t a single thing I’ve said to you yet that should lead you to believe that I’m cool. Three days ago I gave you a book with the word unicorn in the title.”
He ignores your self-deprecation. “We have to rectify this immediately.”
You sit up a little straighter, eyes widening slightly. Is that pleasure he sees in them? God, he sure hopes so.
But he doesn’t want to be pushy, or come on too strong. “If you want to,” he clarifies. “I have the video at home. If you’d like to see it sometime.”
You nod. “That would be f-fun,” you say. A wave of shyness seems to wash over you, like it did at your last parting the other morning. Your slight stutter has Eddie thinking you might be feeling the same way he is.
While you write your number down for him on a shred of napkin, Eddie munches on another bite of the brown bread. Apparently there’s zucchini in it, which he thinks is super weird, but it actually tastes pretty good. 
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Your break is winding down, so you lob another question at him. “Have you always liked to read fantasy?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” Eddie chews on a sliver of orange. “To be honest, I had a bit of trouble learning to read as a kid. I sort of ended up learning on The Hobbit.”
You look at him, impressed for the second time today. “Really? Wow. That’s a little more advanced than the Dr. Seuss books I was reading.”
He just shrugs, giving you a weak smile. He glances down at his watch.
“You better get back in there, honey. I’ve taken up enough of your time this afternoon.”
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Eddie knows he didn’t offer you much with that last one. 
But what he remembers is being left alone in dirty apartments for hours on end, and the endless cycle of evictions. He remembers that he only made it to school sporadically, and that he was miles behind his peers. He remembers that when he started second grade, he could read and write little more than his own name.
And then Al Munson had left to try his hand at being a crooked bastard somewhere else, without the burden of caring for his son.
That’s how Eddie ended up on the porch of Wayne’s trailer, pale and underfed, feet crammed into sneakers a size too small. All of his belongings fit into a single plastic grocery bag. He’d been confused and angry that he had to relocate yet again, and this time he was living with a stranger, his father’s older brother, whose fumbling attempts at parenthood left Eddie spitting with fury.
He just didn’t understand why. Living with his father, with his sleaze and his casual cruelty, had often terrified Eddie. But it was still the only life he’d ever known. Where had he gone? And how could he leave his boy behind?
And the expected routine of an average seven-year-old boy utterly mystified him. He didn’t understand why he had a bedtime, or why he had to drag the comb through his hair even though it tugged painfully at his snarled tresses, or why he had to keep going to school every single day, even though his teacher berated him constantly for breaking rules he didn’t even know existed, and the other students wouldn’t play with him during recess.
The enormity of the change threatened to overwhelm him. It was too much, and he was too young. There was a dull rage inside him then, simmering just below his skin, building in intensity each day, growing with each injustice he faced. 
One night he’d picked a fight with his uncle over something small – brushing his teeth. Wayne, ever patient, was trying to calmly explain the necessity of the practice to Eddie, who wasn’t having it.
Still reeling from the sting of his father’s abandonment, and fed up with his uncle and his authority, trying to make him do all these stupid things he’d never had to before – he finally snapped. 
They stood opposite each other in the doorway of the trailer’s small bathroom and, with a shout of agitation, Eddie struck Wayne in the ribs with all the strength his skinny arm could muster.
“Hey!” The older man’s fingers instantly closed around Eddie’s thin wrist and, for the first time since Eddie had arrived, his face was lined in anger. 
Eddie instantly flinched backwards, squeezing his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable, retaliating blow. 
But it never came. There was only the sound of Eddie’s shallow breathing.
“We don’t hit each other in this house, Eddie. You don’t hit me, and I don’t hit you. That’s not how we handle things here.” Wayne’s voice was firm but gentle. “I know how your daddy is, boy. But I’m not like him, and you don’t gotta be like him neither.”
Eddie slowly opened his eyes. They were huge and wet in his little face. His chin began to quiver.
Without saying a word, Wayne picked him up off the bathroom floor and carried him into the living room. He set a sniffling, trembling Eddie down on the worn sofa, and knelt down in front of him, placing his careworn hands on his knees.
“I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you, Ed. I know that you’re young, and a lotta this stuff don’t make sense to you yet. But I love you, kid. An’ as long as you’re under this roof, I’m gonna do my best to take care of you.”
Eddie didn’t say anything, but simply knuckled at his tears with small fists.
Wayne pursed his lips, feeling out of his depth, but determined to make good on his promise to his nephew. “Listen, it’s not too late yet. Why don’t we stay up and read somethin’ before you go to bed?”
“Okay.” Eddie’s voice was small and hoarse. Wayne pulled a crumbled tissue out from the pocket of his jeans and passed it to his nephew.
He turned to the coffee table, eyeing a stack of books he’d purchased for Eddie; mostly Dick and Jane readers. They’d been recommended by Eddie’s teacher, at one of several meetings Wayne had had with her regarding Eddie’s behavior. She’d emphasized that the boy was ‘dramatically behind’, and that he would have to put in ‘a tremendous effort’ to catch up. From the tone of her voice, she definitely didn’t believe that Eddie would be up for the task.
Wayne picked up the first reader from the top of the stack, and fanned through the pages, full of dull watercolors and three-word sentences. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and, after a moment of deliberation, let the reader slip through his fingers. It fell quietly back onto the table, hiding the rosy, uninteresting children from view once more.
There was a short bookcase crammed against the wall between the couch and the kitchen counter that Wayne made his way over to. He crouched down beside it, scanning the worn spines of the books in his little collection, searching. When he found what he was looking for, he gingerly pulled it out, and gazed down at the cover. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, along with a sudden flicker of hope. 
He plopped down on the couch next to Eddie, and angled himself and the book so that the boy could see the pages and follow along. 
“How ‘bout we give this one a try?”
Eddie wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Whas’it about?”
Wayne smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “An adventure.” He looked back down at the page, cleared his throat, and began:
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”
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thank you for reading! Read Ch. 3 -> Here! taglist: @eddiesgirlforever , @eds6ngel , @sheisahauntedhouse , @lokis-tardis-companion19 , @teary-eyed-egg , @whenshelanded
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slyyywriting · 1 year
Text
Free Practice
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader
Summary: Formula 1 AU; Driver!Ari x Reporter!Reader - Not much is known about Ferrari’s Superstar driver as he manages to keep his life private. The public knows three things about him though; he’s fast, he’s grumpy, and he hates the media.
Wordcount: 3.7k
Warnings: sexy times, explicit and alluded smut, fingering, Ari never pulls out like ever!
18+ ONLY, IF YOU ARE A MINOR KINDLY FUCK OFF, RESPECTFULLY!
A/N: Free Practice is a running joke among F1 drivers and refers to those who aren't married and don't have kids. Here's my very self indulgent F1 Ari who wins with Ferrari and likes to fuck. A lot. Not beta'd. Enjoy~
|| MASTERLIST  || IN THE CIRCUIT SERIES ||
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You tiptoe out to the kitchen checking if the coast is clear. Mornings were always tricky in this apartment, people coming in and out for various reasons—trainers, dieticians, public relations reps, merchandising folks—and the last thing you wanted was to be caught half naked this early. Luckily the unit was quiet and empty.
You catch the taped paper on the fridge’s door and smile. Your boyfriend, ever a stickler for control and organized details left his full schedule for you. Ari had always been transparent about his daily activities, something that always felt novel because who does that? What man would make sure that you knew where he was at any given hour of the day?
Your phone buzzes as you read through this week’s Ari to-do list, picking up the call distractedly.
“Hello,” you press loudspeaker as you prepare your morning coffee on autopilot, reaching for whatever you need without looking at the kitchen counter. You and Ari had a system, everything was placed properly everywhere you’d be able to find anything if you were to lose your eyesight.
“Hello? Sounds like you had a good night! You got in bed with one of them formula one drivers, didn’t you? Tell me it was that dude from Ferrari! That man is sex on two sturdy legs I could just—” Ruba, your boss’s lovely assistant never failed to put a smile on your face. He was also always thirsting for anyone who wore a race suit and just happened to like Ari best.
“Oh, yeah definitely.” You scoff at him and roll your eyes, “I totally boned the grumpiest tax evading, supercar driving millionaire on the entire circuit. Come on, Roobs. What trouble am I in again?”
He cackles before clearing his throat. You could just imagine him at the office, sitting on his desk all cute while your boss gives him the stink eye.
“No trouble, girly. Just that Rachel wanted me to tell you that you had to attend the press brief for this weekend’s race. Apparently one of the drivers from… Ashton Kutcher? Umm, Andre?”
“Aston Martin, Andrew—”
“Yeah him’s the one. Well he’s retiring and his team is trying to limit the noise on that.”
You jump slightly when a warm body slides behind you and kisses your neck. You crane your head towards Ari’s as he gives you a sweaty kiss on the lips. You didn’t even hear the man come in.
“Andy Barber is retiring?!” you ask aloud towards your boyfriend who was covered in sweat from his morning run greets you with a smile. Your eyes rake down his drenched shirt and those teeny tiny shorts you bought for him that made his thighs look immaculate.
Ari shrugs. He must have not known that his friend and former teammate was retiring.
“Yep, that’s the gossip… Hold on—” you can hear Ruba shuffle around something while you simmer on the news that Andy was retiring. You knew it was bound to happen because the man’s priorities obviously shifted from racing cars to raising a family but it was too early on your count. He was only four years older than Ari and the latter definitely didn’t have retirement and a pack of kids in mind any time soon.
You lean against the counter as the man in question has taken over your coffee making, admiring his tanned skin aglow in the sunshine. He moved quietly but with precision, turning on the espresso machine with a final press of a button. You smile up at him, pulling him closer to you by the front of his shirt.
You clench as he kisses you softly, humming against your lips. You could feel his cum, a couple of loads from last night, running down your thighs as you accommodate him between your legs, kisses going deeper and turning more needy as he goes.
Your name gets called out from your phone, your boss’s voice coming through. You flinch a little but remain pinned against the sink as Ari’s hands roam your body. Lithe fingers grab and press against the side of your thighs that slide up to your hips. Ari’s excitement presses against you as well, his cock poking through those shorts and the way it rubs against you makes you whine pathetically.
“Listen, champ! You are my best grid reporter and you rake in the clicks and the views with the team scandals, shady sponsors and budget cap breaches. However! Those are often covered by ESPN and F1 and every other fucking outlet. What I need for you is to get driver news, okay?”
“This Barber business is a fluff piece. It’s lovely! But we need exclusives, darling. Exclusives! Now, if we could have insider scoop about that Disney prince Steve Rogers? Whew! Imagine the traffic we could have. Or find out more about the beef Fowler and Drysdale have? Those two used to go karting together when they were kids and now they’re throwing punches at each other?”
You let Rachel blabber on over the phone. She was always pushing you with tabloid-esque news from the paddock. She demanded headlines when there were none but you always made it happen. You covered corrupt managers and rockstar type drivers. To the point that you would sometimes feel guilty about it to Ari.
“Rache, we’ve talked about this. I can’t just fish for drama or else I’d be banned from the teams’ garages! For life!”
“I know! So don’t fish for drama! Just get scoops, hang out by water stations or whatever. Hey, what about Ferrari’s driver?”
You catch Ari’s wrists and push him away, pointing to the espresso machine with a pout before you grab your phone and take the call in the living room. You’re thankful Ari humors your request and even starts on breakfast.
“Ari Levinson has been a walking enigma for the past five seasons. Nobody knows what he’s up to outside of racing and readers would go crazy if we get the exclusive scoop on him.”
You exhale and look up to the ceiling. May all the deities grant you the patience to continue this conversation.
“Grid bunnies who are die hard sluts for him swear that he has been going through them like a plow in a field. And that mister stoic and sturdy is a sex addict.” Dear, gods! You gulp air as your boss carries on. You almost guffaw at her wrong intel. “Maybe if you can catch him in one of these sex parties he hosts, snap a few compromising photos? Then we can discuss about team politics again.”
“I hear you, Rachel. What I’m hearing is complete bullshit but I hear you. I’ll see what I can do about your headline.” You hang up on her and throw the phone on the sofa. You put both middle fingers up and swear at your phone in frustration. You went to journalism school and got a master’s degree for this.
You know how harsh the media could be, evidenced by the way the press has written about Ari Levinson, son of a former world champion and legacy driver. He was always referred to as being his father’s son, often downplaying his own skills and talent as a driver. After years of fighting the press and still getting biased misinformed articles published about him, Ari shut off from the media choosing to live away from the camera shutters.
Every interview with him from then on was quick and few worded. He would be rarely seen smiling when interacting with the press, reserving his words to his fans that would patiently ask for his autograph or a selfie during races. Nevertheless, his charm would always seep through and the world acknowledges him as the quiet, brooding superstar of racing.
You walk back into the kitchen with a sour mood just in time as Ari hands you your coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with berries. He pats your head and leaves you be, not prying on your phone conversation. He knows how hard the conflict of interest is between your relationship and your careers, multiple fights and repeated arguments due to such dissonance.
You swirl your spoon around the oatmeal, grimacing at how gross it looks like. Unusual because you’re pretty neutral about oatmeal, eating a half the bowl and picking on fruits but never made you queasy. You click your tongue and push it away.
“Oatmeal no good? You want boiled eggs instead?” He offers, pointing to the pot that was on the stove but you dry heave at the smell. You hated his food preparations sometimes especially when it’s protein centered. You shake your head and drink your coffee, staring out into the distance for a solution on your boss’s orders. “How about porridge?”
“I’m good, just—” you sigh, shoulders deflating. “Are you happy? I mean with me and this whole hiding thing and keeping our professional lives separate? You’re in your prime! You’re supposed to be dating, I don’t know—Instagram models or something? Going clubbing with your DJ friends and diving off of yachts. Not making porridge for me because I won’t eat oatmeal.”
Ari turns off the stove and gets to you in two strides. He lifts you up from the floor and places you on the kitchen island with ease. His hands squeeze your thighs as you ramble on while practices patience with his lips.
“I like making porridge, it’s a good pre-race meal. I don’t like clubbing because it’s too loud and people shove their phones in my face. I can always dive off yachts with you and swim around it or whatever you want to do. And,” he presses a kiss on your lips as you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth pouted,” I’m beyond happy that you’re the one I spend all my off track time with. I don’t want anyone else. If you want to announce that we’re together, I’d happily help you pick the photos that would go along with the announcement.”
“Plus,” his left hand climbs from your thigh to your hip. He feels up your body, pausing at your breast to cup it and play with your nipple a little before he finally stops at your throat. You automatically clench your thighs together as his fingers squeeze your neck, a whimper escapes your lips involuntarily. With his other hand he grabs your knee and spreads you open. Lithe fingers crawl up your skin until they reach your covered core, heated by his touches and his gaze.
Ari pulls the gusset and lets his fingers glide your wet center. He smiles as you moan when he pinches your still swollen bud between his fingers, hips bucking slightly off of the tile surface. Then he inserts three fingers inside your cunt, agonizingly slow as he watches the expression on your face. Your eyes clenched shut while your mouth is agape in an O of pleasure. Ari hums as his digits are greeted with his cum that he deposited from last night, fueled by champagne and dancing in your living room that lead to him taking you on the couch twice and in your bed once more before sleep conquered both of you.
“I’ll never trade this pussy, my pussy for anything else. She and I have an understanding already. I take her, I own her. I’ve made her mine and I’m never letting her go. I’ve marked her so many times, filled her up from the first time I was inside her. I’ve made myself at home within her walls, ketsele. And I have no plans of moving out. Ever.”
You swear as Ari curls his fingers, hitting your sweet spot and making your toes curl. You gasp loudly when he thrusts his fingers deeper and faster until your hands shoot out to grab his shoulders. The soles of your feet start to tingle until it climbs up into your core and you clench around Ari’s hand, wetness gushing out of you as your head spins in a haze.
He kisses your forehead as you come down from your high. His shirt rumpled under your fingers as your breath evens out.
“Message received. You’re happy.” You chuckle as you open your eyes to him staring you down intently. “Shit, I’m happy too. Very happy. Very very happy.”
“It’s settled then. We are happy.” He kisses you again, this time his tongue takes up space in your mouth. You loved the way he kisses you just like this, possessive and consuming like each swipe is a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. Ari ends it with small pecks around your face as he traps your head between his giant palms, tickling your with his luscious beard. “So, now can you finish your oatmeal or do you want something else?”
Your stomach lurches at the thought of oatmeal and you run to bathroom to empty your insides.
---
--
-
The last race before summer break couldn’t have turned out better. The Italian grand prix was closing out the mid-season and Ari just won first place in front of the Italian fans. The tifosi were close to causing a stampede once Ari drives past the checkered flag, the crowd erupting in cheers as Ferrari wins in their home race.
This was good news. It means that your fight last night and the day before that hadn’t affected his performance. You didn’t know why but for the past weeks the whole having to meet him after hours in secret started to eat away at you despite his repeated assurances. You told him that you’d quit your job if he asked if it meant you would stop having to look over your shoulder for getting photographed by paparazzi or even random fans.
That only made him growl at you in frustration. He’d told you that he wouldn’t want you to quit the job of your dreams and he would never ask that of you. He just needed time and a good strategy to get it to the press without compromising your career. It was a sweet sentiment really but that didn’t stop you from yelling at him and telling him your vagina was closed for business until he figures it all out.
Which was a lie. Ten minutes later, your business was flooded because this man just plainly refuses to finish anywhere but inside you. Both of you were weak willed idiots controlled by fleshly desires.
Anyway, you should be running to the podium stage before you get trampled by the team mechanics and other members of the crew to celebrate the victory but you find yourself sitting it out. You didn’t feel like being sandwiched by too hot and sweaty bodies under the Italian sun. Nor were you particularly fond of having to fight off VIP pass holders who were hunting for husbands just so you could get muffled quotes from the race winners. No, forget that. In addition to that you really had to pee and while everyone was busy jumping up and down for joy, the bathrooms were probably empty so off you go.
After you wash your hands on the sink and fix yourself before heading back out to the media pit your phone chimes with a notification.
Did you forget to log your period?
Huh. Did you? You click on the notification and notice that it had been 98 days since you last logged one. But you remember you were on it last month. It was during the French grand prix that you had period sex with Ari and stained his hotel room sheets like fucking animals. You were so embarrassed you wanted to wash them yourself and terrified of the hotel keep’s reaction. So yeah, the app is right. Maybe you did just forget.
As you hear the winner’s anthem play, you head out to the press pen and await your interview with the drivers. You stack up on your questions, re-writing your bulleted drafts and pushing your period’s absence at the back of your mind.
One by one the drivers show up and you greet them, asking them questions regarding their race, team strategies and choice of tyres. All the while you can see Rachel talking with your outlet’s sponsors as she tries to catch your eye. You’ve been avoiding her since that phone call. You sent her a text denying Ari’s involvement in sex parties but could not divulge your source. So like the professional that you are, you responded with a trust me. That didn’t bide well with her.
Heavens you felt dizzy. Why did she have to look at you like that? All accusatory. And why did the Monza sun have to be so fucking bright and hot. It wasn’t like this during the Dutch race. Ooh, you felt your stomach just knot. Also, fuck do your feet hurt.
The sudden rapid flickers of camera lenses interject your aches as Ari appears before the swarm of reporters and pundits. His racing suit was soaked through from the champagne celebrations and his hair was slicked back still dripping wet. You push yourself to the front of the barricade with your recorder and extend it towards him.
Ari looks around and acknowledges everybody before he takes your recorder and uses it as a microphone. The questions fly off as soon as he does and the small crowd feels happy that the usual grumpy driver was smiling and exchanging jokes with them even if they were sarcastic or teasing. You get your chance to ask your own questions and you hate that he makes you feel dizzy when he looks directly at you. The moment passes and you brush off your nausea as just being head over heels for this man. You don’t even realize that you were smiling dopily at your secret lover in front of a few dozen people and multiple cameras.
“Any plans for the summer break?” Another reporter in the hoard asks Ari, microphone fuzz printed with their channel’s logo pushed way too close to his face but he doesn’t mind it. In fact Ari doesn’t see any of the recording devices shoved right into his grill. Just like when he’s racing, his focus is tunneled to a singular thing. This time though, it’s not a corner or a chicane that he has to squeeze his racing car into. No, not even close.
He smiles brightly, all teeth and warmth as he stares right into your eyes. A rare sight and the cameras are eating it all up. You’re being swallowed by other news outlets but he enjoys having this moment with you. You return his smile, coquettish in a way, almost self-conscious with how much attention he was giving you despite the loudness of your surroundings.
And then in a split of a second, just like when Ari’s trying to avoid a random bird flying over the track, your expression changes from admiring him to one of panic. You pull back your hand that was holding your recorder and dive down from the crowd of reporters you were sandwiched in. Ari lurks forward on instinct but you were quick to take yourself away, chasing after you with long strides against your quick short ones.
You get all of eight feet until you bend over and hurl your breakfast onto the pavement. Ari rushes to your side and tries to hold you up as you continue to bless the asphalt with the contents of your stomach. A few passerby’s avoid you and Ari as he continues to coo at you.
“You okay?” he finally asks when you pull yourself up, wiping your mouth with your arm. Someone from the Ferrari crew hands him a bottle of water giving it to you to drink but you only chug it to wash the taste out of your mouth. “Hey, talk to me. You good? What—was it something you ate?”
A shiver runs down your spine because no, it definitely was not something you ate. Your mind runs on a mile per second as you recount why you’ve been so short with him. You tried to rationalize that it was the stress of keeping your relation under wraps while pressure to keep your love life afloat but you know it’s not. And then you remember the whole period sex in a French hotel was during winter break, not last month. You didn’t forget to log it in the app because your period has not been around since then. Fuck!
You shoot up and stand tall, eyeing your stupid boyfriend with the stupidly gorgeous hair. You told him multiple times over the months that if he were to keep it up, free practice was going to be over for him but no! He does not listen and does not pull out and does not believe that even your birth control can’t ensure that his little swimmers aren’t going to take. So no, you are definitely not okay.
“Ari!” you yell at him, surprising him and a couple of people around you. He gives you a concerned look that maybe is more on the confused side of things. You loved him, you liked him a lot but he can be so one track minded. “Free practice is over.”
“Yeah, I know—I’m just checking in on you. It’s not like they’re going to—“
“No! I mean it’s over, over. Like in a couple of months’ time over.”
He continues to rub your back as he tries to take in your words. You nod your head to the spewage on the ground to give him a hint. His eyes full of wonder as he connects dots that might or might not be part of the picture. A couple of moments more and the light bulb flashes over his head.
“You’re pregnant!” he shouts with glee as he stands to his full height. You shrug and he laughs out loud, in joy like he just heard the most wonderful news of all. “I’m going to be a dad!”
“What?!” someone from the blob of vultures known as paddock reporters questions before everyone else turns their attention to him and you. Both you and Ari freeze as cameras race towards where the two of you stood and the zoo starts.
You see Rachel’s head swerve to your direction. Shit. Guess your boss is going to get her headline afterall.
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dragonbe-writing · 25 days
Text
Fallen Feathers
Fantasy AU ft. Knight!John Price
Summary: John Price is sent out by the king to hunt a monster. He wanders through the woods and finds a girl, living alone who wishes not to be seen.
This is Part 1 of a series
Word Count: ~2K
Author's Note: Hello! It's been a while. I've had this story idea typed up for nearly a year and just couldn't get comfortable with it. But I've been inspired by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world 's fantasy AU, and decided just to post this and see what happens. Enjoy!
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he made it to the top of the hill. He looked out over the basin, the sun rising behind him and casting shade from the trees out onto the village below. The village- Edriel (Ee-drill), -was already bustling with life in the early hours. Farm-help out watering crops before the sun wilted them, mothers cooking breakfast for the little ones before their day of chores and play, priests walking through to say their blessings and good mornings. 
A world of intimacy, a world of peace. 
The very things John had sworn to protect, the very reason he was on this hill in the first place. He was a Commander, a third-rank Knight sent out to protect the village. His village. The place he’d grown up, the place he devoted his life and servitude to. 
A monster lived in the forest, he was told. The King ordered him to find and slay the monster. So, John turned away from the village, and headed into the forest.
He used his sword to cut through the thick brush, heading for… well, he wasn’t sure. The King wouldn’t give him a description of the monster- perhaps he didn’t have one. But if he didn’t have one, then was John just chasing a rumor? He had been under the King since he was a boy, it was a little insulting to be sent on a goose chase. 
Slice.
He was a Commander, for God’s sake! A third rank Knight- a position he had worked hard for. And here he was, running around the forest, looking for something that wasn’t even there. 
Slice.
This is a rookie’s task, he figured. Something to keep them busy, to test their loyalty.
Slice.
Perhaps the King was becoming senile in his old age. Or maybe John was just upset at the mission. He saw the way the other Commanders smirked when he was given his task. It was embarrassing, especially after a life of devotion. 
Slice.
The brush cleared away, revealing a secluded area that looked… cared for. He crouched under a branch, keeping his sword at the ready- just in case. A small stream ran near his feet, water as clear as he’d ever seen. There was a garden, and even a house. It looked similar to the Edriel houses, however it was poorly built. Things seemed to be added over time: patches to the roof, new ties for the wood. He studied it carefully, jumping when he heard a noise from inside the house. 
“Who’s there?” a woman asked from inside the house. She sounded human. 
“I am a Commander of Edriel’s army. I am coming in,” he said, sword raised as he opened the door. 
The house was small, just enough for one person. The curtain was closed, engulfing the house in darkness. He could tell she was in the corner, but he couldn’t see her. 
“Open the curtain,” he ordered, his voice coming out gruff. 
“...I’d rather not,” she said quietly, her body pressed against the walls. “I-I am horribly burned, I’d prefer not to be seen.” 
John lowered his sword, putting it back in its sheath. “Yes ma’am,” he said in a much softer voice. It was a foreign feeling. It had been ages since he had spoken so softly. “...what is your name?”
She went quiet, and it sounded as though she was shuffling on her feet. A wave of realization washed over him. He had broken into this poor woman’s home and demanded to see her. She was probably terrified. 
“I am John Price, a proud Knight of Edreil,” he started, hands behind his back as he respectfully tipped his head. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. 
“Adelaide,” she said quietly. 
“Adelaide… what?”
“Just Adelaide.”
A tense silence covered them. He cleared his throat, looking around the house. “..Okay, Adelaide. I apologize for my rude intrusion. If I may… why do you live out here?” he asked.
“People do not stare at me out here. It is peaceful,” she said. “What has you out here?”
He hesitated. His business was embarrassing, but if anyone knew where a monster was, it would be her. He took a breath. “The King has sent me out in search of a monster.”
“A monster?” she asked, voice pitching higher. 
“Do not worry,” he said quickly, raising a hand in front of him. “I will take care of it, you will be of no harm.”
“What does it look like?”
Another pause, this one longer. He let out a low sigh, his chainmail armor clinking as he raised a hand to run through his hair. 
“...You do not know?” 
“...no, ma’am.”
He swore he heard her snort. “What kind of king sends a knight out with no description?” 
He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’d be a fool to talk poorly of the King in front of one of his knights,” he said dryly.
“Are you going to detain me?” she asked with a hint of amusement.
“I could,” he responded quickly, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was met with silence, to which he sighed. “Do you know of any monster living around here?” 
“...no. But, I will be weary,” she said to him, any details of emotion stripped from her voice.
He gave her a nod and turned to leave. “Good day, ma’am,” he said, closing the door to her home and going out the way he came. 
As he continued his search for the monster, he thought about her. Was she truly so badly burned that she must live alone? He didn’t remember a fire in the village. 
Perhaps she was from Pulsk? 
No, surely not. Pulsk was a lawless trading post crawling with criminals, monsters, witches- she would not have to move from there, her appearance would not be so bad there. So she must be from Edriel. But he had never heard of a fire that bad- he had never heard of a woman living outside the village. 
How long had she been alone? Who else knew she was there?
~~~~
John was sent out every day for the next week. It seemed he’d be doing this until the monster was found. On the fourth day, he stopped by her area again. 
“Miss?” he called out. He heard a door slam, and saw the curtain in her window close. 
“John?” she asked worriedly. 
“At your service. May I come in? Is it dark enough?” he asked, waiting by the door for her word. 
“Yes,” she called out after a moment. He opened the door, the smell of smoke filling his nose. She must’ve blown out a candle. She was in the same corner as last time. 
The light from the door fell on his face, lighting him up with a glow. He smiled at her, clearing his throat. He shifted a bit uncomfortably on his feet. “How is life out here?” he asked, eyes glancing around as he tried to figure out where to look. 
“Peaceful. Quiet, most days,” she replied. His lips pursed, eyebrows creasing. 
“…Would you like me to leave?” 
“Oh! Oh, I didn’t… I did not mean you,” she clarified quickly. He imagined she looked worried, and he smiled a bit to make her feel better. 
“So, other people visit?” he asked with a grin. 
“Well… no…” she murmured, and he chuckled. It was a deep timbre that reverberated through his chest. 
“Right,” he said. They fell into a silence, and he shifted again. It was difficult having a conversation with someone you couldn’t see. “…do you ever miss the village?” 
He heard ruffling- it must’ve been her clothes. “No. I miss the food sometimes,” she said, watching as he looked around her place. “There used to be a woman who sold pastries. I think about her quite often.” 
He lit up, eyes shining and lips stretched in a smile. “Mrs. Dresel?”
“Yes!” she said, the most enthusiastic he’s ever heard her. “Is she still alive? She was quite old when I last saw her…” 
“Yes, she’s still around. Still making those pastries, too,” he smiled fondly, thinking of them. “I have not visited her in a while,” he thought aloud. 
“Nor have I… for obvious reasons…” she said and the house creaked. John looked around at the roof worriedly. “Oh, it does that,” she said dismissively. 
“…did you build this yourself?” he asked her, eyes scanning over the structure. Pillars of wood, stuck together with what appeared to be mud. The roof was wood planks, with some more mud, and dried straw. Simple, but effective. 
“I did,” she replied, also now looking at it. 
“…it isn’t bad,” he said with a shrug. She let out a laugh. 
“You’re very polite.”
“I’m a Knight.”
She laughed, making his eyes tear away from the roof back to the corner she hid in. He could imagine her, standing there with bright eyes. It made him chuckle. 
“My house isn’t much, but it is mine,” she continued. 
“It’s lovely,” he replied, eyes going back to the structure. “Very impressive.” 
“Thank you,” she replied. “Any luck on finding your monster?” 
He groaned, rolling his eyes. His entire body tensed, lips pressed in a thin line. “No. I’m starting to think the King is playing a trick on me,” he remarked, chainmail clanking. 
“Perhaps he’s gone bad? Like a fruit?” she offered up, amusement clear in her voice. 
“Careful,” he warned, trying not to smirk. “I still work for the man- even if he is a bit mushy.” 
She laughed, a noise that made the corners of his lips turn up. He pictured her shoulders shaking, her smile wide and unapologetic. He wondered how often she laughed out here.
“You’re funny- for a Knight,” she poked, voice dripping with sarcasm. 
“D’you have a thing against Knights?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest but a smile on his lips. 
“They haven’t always been kind to me,” she remarked, making his mood change. His arms fell to his sides, and his eyebrows creased as his smile vanished. 
“Then you must’ve been doing something you weren’t supposed to,” he replied with a bit of an edge. A blanket of tension wrapped around her house. 
“…do you take me for a criminal, John?”
He thought in silence for a couple moments, before finally replying. “No, I suppose not,” he muttered, almost begrudgingly. Though, if a Knight had been rude to her, it was likely deserved. “Never mind.”
They fell into silence, the air thicker than the smoky scent of her home. She huffed a bit, more rustling heard. “Don’t you have a monster to catch?” she asked, voice carrying a sharpness to it. 
He cleared his throat, chainmail clunking as he readjusted himself. “Indeed. Have a good day, Miss Adelaide,” he said politely, before turning and leaving her house, door closing behind him. 
Perhaps she was a criminal. Why else would a knight have been rude to her? It would make sense, her living out here by herself. He would have to go through the old town logs, see if the name Adelaide appeared. Though, it might be difficult without a last name. 
He was ducked under the branch again, leaving the area she had claimed. He huffed, wiping the sweat on his neck with his handkerchief. 
What if she wasn’t a criminal? What if she was just horribly burned? He still could not remember a fire that bad- though, if he looked through the logs… 
He had taken his horse, Obsidian, with him today. He gently pet her nose, sighing softly. “C’mon, old girl,” he said, hoisting himself up onto the saddle. “Back to the castle- let’s get you an apple, hmm?” 
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