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#also one of them came in a peach???
cozystars · 11 months
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the bros now have a new passion to share :)
bonus!
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chloecherrysip · 1 year
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Just Beyond My Reach, There's Someone Reaching Back For Me (speculative mario movie fic, mario & luigi centric, around 3600 words.)
[OK SO i literally could not stop thinking about this post in the mario movie tag from last week, which turned into me trying to write out my thoughts about how the scenario could unfold, which then turned into me writing a full-fledged fanfic that's over 3,000 words long??? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I've truly lost my common sense, but I just felt like I HAD to get this out before the movie arrives and their reunion is nothing like this in any way whatsoever.
This is a speculative fic of just one possible scenario out of millions, no actual spoilers; i'm working off info we've seen in the trailers/TV spots/promotions/etc, and all the characterization is based off those too, so it might ultimately be off-base. Please don't @ me after the movie comes out and get on my case about details being wrong! I AM IN THE PAST (and jealous of you in the future for having already seen it).
I present to you: A Version Of Mario & Luigi's Reunion in the Mario Movie That Would Cause Me Irreparable Psychic Damage.]
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Mario hears him first. He would know that panicked yelp anywhere. 
By that point, he’s lost count of how many of Bowser’s minions he’s tried to interrogate as he fights his way through the airship. There’s so much shouting and clanging all around him, and his voice hurts from yelling loud enough to be heard over it, but he can’t stop. “Where do you keep prisoners? Have you seen someone who looks like me — but tall, skinny, and green? If you take me to him, I’ll go easy on ya, I swear—” 
it’s hard to tell if they’re just refusing to answer him, genuinely don’t know any useful information, or can’t actually communicate in a way he understands — probably some in each column. But he’s about to grab another angry Koopa by the shell and try again when there’s a commotion far off in the distance. The yell that echoes out to him is faint, but it tugs hard at Mario like a rope tied around his middle. Something from his memories, the nightmares he’s been having this whole adventure that he hasn’t told Peach and Toad about. Something instantly, certainly familiar to him in a way that few things are. 
His heart is suddenly lodged in his throat. He barrels his way past the troops and the Kongs fighting them, moving fast towards it.
The area of the airship he’s in starts to slope down further ahead, surrounding a huge open space that, judging by the flickering embers in the air and heavy heat that’s got him sweating through his shirt already, has a whole bunch of lava simmering at the bottom. On the other side of the chasm, there are a whole group of what look like angry blue penguins beating down some feisty stacks of Goombas with their bare flippers. There’s also what impossibly looks like a star, with a face and everything, beaming bright and doing twirling cartwheels in the air, giggling at the carnage underneath. And behind all that, he can see—
Mario reacts without having to think. He jolts forward against the railing, reaches a hand out, and yells as loud as he can. “LUIGI!” 
He can only see glimpses of his overalls and green hat at first amidst all the other chaos, but then pieces of the ongoing fight tumble further to either side, giving a clear view. Mario watches wide-eyed as his brother frantically swats away Goombas, shrieking and flailing his arm furiously when one snags some teeth through his sleeve until it comes loose. He looks terrified and a little queasy, but also very determined, even jumping in to help when one of the penguins gets pinned down. They seem to be working together. 
Luigi is here. He’s really here, alive and fighting and still in one piece. Mario isn’t too late. It feels like a 20 pound weight’s suddenly gone from his back that he hadn't even realized he was carrying around.
His yell is half-drowned out by the chaos, but Luigi’s head still snaps up, eyes wide and stricken and bright with recognition. “Mario?” He cries out, his voice cracking badly. He kicks another Goomba away and then starts spinning, searching the surrounding area with increasing desperation. “Mario!?” 
“Over here!” Mario wishes he had another raccoon powerup so he could just fly across the gap and reach him right then and there. He has to settle for taking off his cap and waving it in the air like a flag. “Luigi! Over here!” 
Finally, their eyes meet across the gorge. It’s not necessary at that point, but Luigi still tears off his own hat and starts flailing it around too overhead, as if just to make absolutely sure his brother knows where he is. “MARIO!” He shouts, his tired face instantly transforming into a relieved, overjoyed smile. 
“Are you okay!?” 
“Y-Yeah! I mean, define “okay,” but I, I'm not hurt or anything like — wait, how did you get here!? We’re way up in the air!”
Mario’s face already hurts from how wide he’s grinning. “Not anymore! And whaddya mean? What do ya think I’ve been doing all this time? Looking for you! You don’t think I could find you wherever you are, even if it’s a million miles in the air? Give your big bro some credit, eh?” 
A laugh bursts out of Luigi, surprised and shaky. Mario has missed that sound so much. “Right, right. I did think…I mean, I hoped, or…” His brother shakes his head, his voice failing him. He lets out a deep breath, so deep that it’s almost like he’s been holding it in ever since they were separated, still smiling like the sun. “I knew you would. Mario, you — look out!” 
Mario turns just as a hammer goes whizzing past his ear, tumbling down into the lava pit. He dodges the next one more capably and then catches the third one that comes his way. In one smooth, lightning-quick motion, he throws it back at the attacking Hammer Bro, nailing him in the face and knocking him out cold.
“Whoa!” He turns back to see Luigi staring with his mouth agape. “When did you learn how to do that?”
“It's kinda a long story!” There will be plenty of time to get into all the details about his adventure when he’s gotten Luigi safely out of an active warzone.  “What about you? I thought you were a prisoner here!” 
“I am! Or I was, I guess! We — me, and the penguins, and Lumalee,” he gestures wearily up overhead, where the blue star-thing is idly playing with a pinwheel that it somehow conjured out of thin air, “and the others — we broke out! We, ah, we’ve been trying to find a way outta here ever since, but this place is a maze and we need some kind of hot air balloon or one of those floating clown-car thingies to even get away in the first place, and—”
“Spinies at four o’clock!” One of the penguins shouts, at the same time that Mario yells “Luigi, on your left!”
Luigi jolts at the sight of the three spiky, spinning shells approaching fast. He jumps high enough to leapfrog right over them all, causing them to ricochet off the wall unexpectedly and careen off the side straight into the deep pit. 
“Nice, Weegie!” Mario cheers. “You always were the better jumper.” 
“Keep your head in the fight, soldier!” One specific penguin calls out to Luigi. He’s wearing a very fancy gold crown — probably their king? “We’re not done here yet!” 
“I know, I know, but look!” Luigi gestures excitedly across the chasm. “My brother’s here! He made it!”
“Good show! If he’s as brave as you said, he can help us beat back these dastardly troops once and for all! We’ll all see the light of day again soon!”
The rest of the penguins cheer, thrusting their flippers victoriously into the air, and then let out a wave of new, guttural battle cries. The Penguin King smiles over at Mario and salutes him before rejoining the fray. There are more of Bowser’s minions crowding the walkways on both sides, Mario realizes with a newfound wave of worry. He needs to get to Luigi now. 
“Stay right there!” He calls, starting to run alongside the railing. “Don’t move! I’m coming!”
“Are you kidding!? Wait!” Luigi starts running too, mirroring Mario. “I can meet you faster this way!” 
Mario laughs. “If you can keep up with me!” 
“You’re on!”
The road ahead of him is pure chaos, filled with attacking enemies and whooping Kongs and weapons flying every which way, but Mario runs. He runs until his heart burns, dodging and weaving, almost tripping here and there because he can’t stop looking over the gap to make sure Luigi’s still there on the other side, stumbling his way through his own gauntlet. The two areas are winding closer together, slowly but surely. They must meet somewhere. He’ll find it. He has to.
“Hey, Luigi!” He yells, breathless and happy. “Remember when we were fixing Mrs. McGrady’s sink a couple weeks ago and talking about the future? Did you imagine it’d be anything like this?” 
“Whaddya think!?” Luigi shouts back jokingly. “I-I mean, I imagined people being mad at us, but those were customers. There was definitely a lot less lava, and magic, and crazy green pipes that send you to places from your literal nightmares!” He laughs, which swiftly turns into a yelp when he has to dodge away from a red Koopa. The next words come out thicker, almost strained. “Mario, you, you’re really here, you — I missed you, I…”
Even with the distance and the distracting noise and the heavy breathing, Mario can hear the familiar tearing in his brother’s voice, and it pushes him to run faster. Luigi is so much braver than many people in their life have given him credit for, but he has a breaking point, and Mario can recognize it like the back of his own hand. Heck, he could use a good cry right about now too. They're so close. Just a little further.
He’s never been the biggest hugger — that title belongs squarely to Luigi, who always holds on a little too long, especially when Mario protests, swinging him up into the air until Mario has to grab him in a headlock and wrestle him down, both of them laughing by then — but he genuinely doesn’t know how he’s ever going to let go of his brother again once he’s within arm’s reach. 
“I missed you too! Every day!” He calls out, and if his voice cracks, well, that’s okay. “Hold on! It’s gotta be just up ahead!” There’s a solid wall coming up where they won’t be able to see each other across the way any longer, but the sharp curve of it looks extremely promising. “I’ll meet you on the other side!” 
“Okay!” 
The wall comes between them. Mario's finally in the clear, having left all the attackers in the dust. His legs and chest hurt, but it doesn’t matter. He's about to get his brother back. He feels invincible, unstoppable.
“I told you, bro!” He can’t hear Luigi at all any longer, but he shouts anyway, hoping the words reach him.  “Even if it didn’t turn out like we thought, it’s all gonna be okay! This is crazy stuff, but as long as we're—” 
Mario turns the corner and skids to a sharp stop. The words die in his throat, turning to ash.
Bowser is in front of him. 
The King of the Koopas nearly fills the entire space wall-to-wall, hulking and monstrous, even bigger than what Mario imagined. He breathes out an angry, deep growl that prickles at Mario’s skin, star-bright embers scattering in the air, the smell of burning getting stronger and stronger. But none of that is what Mario is focusing on. He’s frozen in place at the sight of Luigi, wriggling in one of Bowser’s gripped hands. A thick, scaly finger is coiled tight over his brother’s mouth too, keeping him from making any noise besides a variety of muffled, panicked sounds. 
“Thought you didn’t know him, Greenie,” Bowser says in a low voice to Luigi. “Wasn’t that what you said? Boy, you wouldn’t like what I usually do to liars. It involves fire — a lot of it.” His rows of sharp teeth part, just enough for a big exhale, tinged with molten heat. Luigi cringes, turning his head away as far as he can manage. He’s trembling. “But lucky for you, turns out you’re not entirely useless.”
It takes a moment for Mario to come back into his body, remember how to move and think. But slowly, his hands ball into fists. A voice erupts out of him that barely sounds like his own, grave and angry, angrier than he’s ever been in his life. 
“I’m only gonna say this once, ya overgrown turtle,” he says, shifting his footing into a fighting stance. “Let my brother go now.” 
Bowser looks down at him with a derisive sort of amusement for a long moment before laughing outright. "Give me a break, shortie! You’re even punier in person — 50 of you couldn't stop me. But that hasn’t stopped you from trying, has it? You and your little friends  — your pathetic excuse for an “army,” if that’s what you want to call it. But that all ends now.” 
As if on cue, Mario hears DK and a few other Kongs turn the corner, whooping and hollering, only to pause too at the sight of Bowser. “Let’s get ‘em! He can't take us all at once!” Someone says, and there’s a rush of new movement behind Mario. Bowser turns Luigi in his hand, holding him out a little closer to Mario with a shake of the wrist — a taunt. One of his claws pulls up just a little from the rest, the sharp tip arched and pressed lightly to his brother’s neck. The implication is clear. 
“Stop!” Mario shouts, half-strangled. He must sound serious enough that DK yells “hang on, hang on!” to his brethren, grabbing them with both arms and holding them back from attacking. On Bowser's other side, Mario can see the penguins watching what’s unfolding too with wide eyes. Even all the minions in the area have gone still, weapons lowered, waiting to see what Bowser does before making their next move. The space is suddenly quiet. 
The claw finally relaxes again. Luigi’s eyes are very wide, and there are tears on his face as he stares at Mario. He tries to say something, the sound of it hopelessly muffled against Bowser’s hand — an apology, or a plea, or simply Mario’s name. 
Mario is shaking. He grits his teeth hard, desperately tries to hold himself steady again. He hopes Bowser can’t see it — but there’s a gleam in the King’s eyes, and it couldn’t be any clearer that he does. 
“Do you know how long I worked on this plan?” Bowser says, his tone softer, more thoughtful all of a sudden.  “Orchestrating these invasions, gathering forces far and wide to serve me, taking the almighty power star for myself. I’ve wanted this for years!” His wide mouth curves up, plainly wicked and self-satisfied. “And now here I am, about to rule the world like I deserve, and a couple of useless, pipsqueak plumbers from who-knows-where think they’re just gonna waltz right in and ruin it for me.” Bowser chuckles to himself. It’s a dangerous, sharp-edged sound, echoing on and on. “Ain’t that a laugh, Mario?” 
Mario doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing any longer. All he can do is glare.
Bowser shrugs. The large fingers on his occupied hand flex ever so slightly, a slow, malicious ripple of movement, all the scales glinting in a wave. “You’re less fun than I thought you’d be,” he says gruffly. "What does the princess even see in you? A tiny little killjoy who loves ruining things for others. Guess it’s only fair I ruin something of yours to make us even."
There’s no further warning or fanfare. In one brutal motion, Bowser crushes his grip tighter around Luigi. His brother’s mouth is still covered, but the way he cries out is starkly, unmistakably pained. 
Mario’s vision floods with red. Something inside of him, the patient, careful part that was still desperately clinging to one last scrap of self-control, snaps cleanly in two. He runs at Bowser full-speed, fist cocked back, teeth bared. 
“I said LET HIM GO!” 
He doesn’t make it there. Bowser, grinning outright, moves so much faster than Mario would have ever guessed he could. He spins, and his tail comes out of nowhere. The impact is like an oncoming train, catapulting Mario into the nearby wall with a sickening crack.
There’s a horrible ringing sound in his ears. His head hurts. He hears Bowser laugh, followed by a roar and a burst of fire breath, awful-smelling and close enough to singe. There’s a lot of shouting, and panic, and thunderous footsteps, moving in a hurry. He can’t think any longer. Why can’t he think? All that comes to mind is—
(They’re fifteen, hiding in their bedroom with some smuggled bandages and antibiotics from the medicine cabinet because if their mom finds out Mario punched out a kid behind the school, she will LITERALLY murder him. Luigi wraps each bruised knuckle carefully as Mario winces and complains about the stinging ointment. His brother looks angrier than he’s ever seen him before, though, and that makes him quiet again in a hurry.)
“You want him so bad?” Bowser is much further away, his voice a distant rumble over the flickering flames. Get up, Mario tells himself. He’s gasping, struggling to push himself back up with useless, trembling hands. His legs feel numb. Get up! “Then come and get ‘em already!”
(“You never stop and THINK first, y’know?” Luigi shakes his head, badly trying to hide the tears budding under his eyes. “And now you’re hurt, and it’s all my fault, and — and I don’t need you to do stuff like that for me! I can handle it, e-even if you think I can’t!”) 
“Mario!” That’s Luigi, terrified and wheezing, finally able to talk again. An intentional decision by Bowser, no doubt, just to be cruel. Mario can barely hear his brother at all, and the sound of his voice keeps growing fainter. “No! Let go! MARIO!” 
(“What are you even saying? That’s not why I did it at all!” Mario insists, using his uninjured hand to flick Luigi’s nose with a few fingers. His affronted expression at that makes Mario laugh, and the motion quickly turns into them trying to be the first one to swat each other in the face without getting blocked. At least the tears are forgotten, which is what he wanted from the start. “Don’t ya get it? I know you can take care of yourself. But if anyone wants to hurt you, they’re gonna have to go through me first. I’M the big bro, and that’s just how it is forever.”) 
Luigi! 
He’s standing again, even as his body protests every pull and push of the way, even as he’s still struggling to open his eyes. Someone strong and furry offers some extra support on his right side. 
“You okay, man?” Donkey Kong asks. “Geez, that looked like it hurt. Hey, anyone have an extra mushroom?” 
Stars are flashing across his vision, but finally they fade away. There’s a line of fire in front of them like a makeshift barrier, slowly but steadily dying out. Sure enough, Bowser and Luigi are gone. Mario’s heart lurches hard against his ribs.
“Setting a devious trap for sure,” The Penguin King grouses from further away. “Using one’s own flesh and blood! Does that dastardly Koopa’s depravity know no limits?” 
“I’m fine. Never better,” Mario groans. He points past the fire. “He went that way, right?” 
DK blinks, looking a little uneasy. “Uh, yeah, but we should probably regroup first and — hey! Wait a second, you idiot!”
Mario’s already charged full-speed ahead, jumping over the flames. Others yell after him too, saying it's too dangerous, but he’s running anyway, chasing the smell of molten heat, the faint, far-off echoes of yelling that feel like pinpricks in his lungs. 
He knows it’s a trap. He knows. He just doesn’t care.
He already let Luigi literally slip through his hands once before. Heck, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself for that alone. No matter where he has to go, who he has to fight, how much abuse he has to take, he's getting Luigi back right now, and he's gonna pound that overgrown bully's face until he regrets every life decision that led to him daring to hurt Mario's little brother.
It can't be too late. He can't have screwed this up again. He'll do anything. Even if...
The feeling of something on his cap startles him out of the thought — the softest boop-boop-boop, like someone very small is bouncing on it. He assumes he’s just imagining things until the blue star-thing (Lumalee?) floats down further, easily keeping up with his top speed, humming what sounds like a lullaby. Mario gawks in its direction. 
“The biggest sacrifices are often the ones that burn the brightest, out in space,” it says, bright and sing-song. “Did you know that?”
“What are you even talking about!?” Mario yells. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy here!” 
It’s unbothered by that, twirling close enough to give his mustache a little, playful poke. “Not existing any longer is natural, inevitable. We all go into the light someday.” The way it’s staring at Mario is unnerving, as though this little, creepy star knows exactly what he was just thinking about. “You look scared of that. Are you?” 
Mario swallows thickly. 
“No,” he says. “If that’s the only way, then…” His eyes are burning at the edges, just a little. “If the people I love are safe, then it doesn’t matter what happens to me.”
Lumalee smiles a dreamy, thoughtful smile.
“Oh,” it sighs, little more than a breath. “This is going to be so much fun.” 
And then it floats away. 
Mario doesn’t have time to stop and wonder what that was all about. He throws himself deeper and deeper into the airship, even when a heavy metal gate slams down behind him to separate him from the others, even when the slabs of rock under his feet sink down into the lava from the weight and don’t resurface, erasing any way out. Mario thinks of his training, of Princess Peach and Toad cheering him on, of the exhilaration and hope he felt looking out over the Rainbow Road, of Luigi smiling in the warp zone right before they were ripped apart. He steels himself for what’s coming next.
Further ahead, he hears his brother call out for him.
Mario runs.
#mario movie#mario movie spoilers#super mario bros#mario and luigi#super mario bros movie#cherrysip fic#super mario bros movie spoilers#(again NO SPOILERS IN THE FIC ITSELF unless you've been avoiding all trailers and TV spots but just to be safe)#(although i AM going to post a small music-related spoiler down here in the tags so don't read if you want to avoid!!!!)#'hey what were you insinuating with that weird convo at the end there' NOTHING [pointedly stares at one up mushroom in promotional stuff]#LOL this is WAY TOO DRAMATIC and probably too violent for a kid's movie but LOOK#i just need them to pay off the 'bowser is looking for mario's weakness and luigi ultimately IS the weakness' thing. I NEED IT#even if it's just in a small moment. bowser wants to fight mario but he does NOT play fair if he thinks he'll lose. I CRAVE THE ANGST#i was actually going to go a little further with the scene and carry it all the way to bowser saying 'let's end this' like in the trailer#but i just really liked this foreboding ending note#if you are curious about what came next in my head (and also where the heck peach is in all of this) mario ends up in bowser's throne room#and sees that peach has been captured too which is a whole new fun wave of horror that he didn't know about#luigi's been thrown in with her and she's helping him because he's obviously a little hurt after being SQUEEZED#the power star hangs over bowser's throne like the chekhov's gun it is. and we begin!#(the only thing i really wanted to write that i didn't get to by cutting earlier was some more mario + bowser dialogue)#(i think mario would be too tense to say much in the scene i have but once they're squaring off he's a smartass for sure)#(he's known a lot of bullies in his life and bowser is just a much bigger scalier one)#(the title is from the song 'holding out for a hero' which apparently according to a new interview is IN the movie!)#(during mario's training montage so i started listening to it and it basically become my background music for writing this lol)#(last stupid thought before i shut up: bowser hitting mario with his tail is included because i recently played mario odyssey and bowser#kept absolutely BODYING me with that move in the end fight. i died twice because i am bad at games lololol)
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thestarofcottonland · 7 months
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hi pea!! i love your blog soo much and am also such a fan of your reviews on fragrantica 💝 so i wanted to ask: what’re your favorite fragrance notes and favorite perfumes based on those notes? :3 wishing you a great day!!
wahhhh thank you.....my reviews arent even anything special i dont conjure images well yet but im flattered....
despite having so many perfumes i feel like im still learning what my favourite notes are, i very often get caught up in what sounds good but i fail to really grasp the compatibility of the scents...or even what might have been compatible can be blended poorly.
my favourite notes im familiar with would have to be: honey, which ive found best encapsulated in Bee Ellis Brooklyn, jasmine, best in Gorgeous Jasmine Gucci (despite very sad longevity..), sweetened rose which sadly all the best looking ones ive found are hard to find or just hard to get in canada but Rose Gourmand Zara i do rather like, and i think i must love orange blossom cause its there in all the sweetest perfumes ive ever smelled (Paradoxe, Love Don't Be Shy, Made in Heaven, and D&G Devotion that i just ordered after loving it instantly in the store)
i need to get more familiar with milk, coffee, hay, and i think i could really love seaweed! i think its what lends that moldy smell to Sea of Gray Solstice Scents, and i actually love it so much. cant help it i have mold nostalgia!! im relating to animalic girlies now like yeah sometimes stuff stinks really good and its cozy.
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todayisafridaynight · 5 months
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ADMITTEDLY it’s a very “teenagers first alcohol” kind of vibe so I prommy it’s not popular with any demographic that’s older than 25 gdgdgd
I’m only just recently leaving my baby tastebuds please bare with me (and give me drink recs so I can leave candy hell)
(Also sidenote but I genuinely didn’t expect so much uproar over GRAPE FLAVOURING because I’ve never heard anyone hate it so much so once again I’m convinced this is an American problem and not a problem with my beloved grape flavour 🙏)
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passport you are GROWN im fucking crying looking at all of this. this is the equivalent of whiteclaw.
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darksouls2yuri · 2 years
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mundanememorize · 4 months
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okay i will rant for like two seconds my once a month rant but i have recently realized fucking psychology or i guess like modern/pop psychology especially is destroyingggg art. so bad.
like as writer/artist for like the past 2-3 years i’ve found myself being like oh i need to be able to perfectly articulate how my stories deal with mental health and then i get in this awful loop bc i’m not writing anymore im dissecting.
and on the audience part too it’s also awful. i love metas and analysis etc etc but it’s all turned into this strange phenomenon of like “proving a theory” and so many of these metas (im just going to use that for the catchall) focus on the same dissection.
just lately when it comes to art and discussion old or new academic or twitter rants i feel like i constantly see people asking “what is wrong with the artist to make them make this” instead of understanding the emotion or subject present in the piece and dissecting that as it relates to you. it has ti be clinical and hard fact and true to the creators intent.
i hate this approach so much and the way i see it effects my writing has made me crazy so i’m glad i’ve realized. i do not like to see abstract concepts put into a box im sure no one else does but being in like online art culture it’s so so so bad for that because no one can discuss anything online it has to be a debate. and then you’re debating art instead of analyzing and sharing experience.
this is all very vague and that’s kind of the point. what i’m talking about applies to anyone from like brain rotted edge lord anime girl artists to characters in mainstream/high production projects. there is no separation of art from artist on the basis of how does it make you feel it seems like it’s everyone’s wondering what’s going on in the artists head and trying to use their art as tools to figure it out. i think that has terrified me in creating and it’s made me feel like i have to make it present in my art in the first place so i have “nothing to hide” but why does an audience need to be in your psyche???
this is not me saying exploring mental health and illness and symptoms of it in art is a bad thing, it is exactly the opposite. it’s when it turns into everyone fighting about how xyz proves their headcanon correct and then no one else is allowed to interpret a character another way when the point of most art from the people i know and/or admire want the exact opposite. every character should be a mirror to a large variety of people and experiences. the same shade of green should excite one person and disgust the next. i am just so tired and appalled and over the like compartmentalization of art to enjoy it as a monolith go fuck yourself!!!!!
and i kind of got off topic with the subject of psychology present in art but looking at art with a psychological lense can be fun but that’s the lens you should already be using in the sense of connecting emotionally to pieces. i’m seeing yourself in the art right in front of you. most people (especially people who don’t create art often) go into art immediately trying to “figure it out” which i understand but how to you make it clear to everyone that they already understand, they just need to listen to what is there in front of them.
to look at art through a clinical lens is the death of art is maybe a more accurate way of talking about it. to look at art and try to dissect it, not for yourself, but to say “i know exactly what the artist was thinking” you’ll never be right. it’s fun to joke about in the basis of relation to the art but then that’s just you relating. that’s your experience and perception. you will never know the artists intent.
this is more specific and a little more silly but i feel like that^ over laps with people freaking out about character and “good/bad” representation. saying gay characters can only act this way. that characters with plurality can only be portrayed like this. that characters with a disability or neurodivergence or this or that can only say this list of things or else you’ve made a “harmful character”. of course there is harmful stereotyping but i would hope everyone able to publish and produce stuff knows what to do and not to do. i know that’s not realistic but i hope majority of writers don’t need a strict do and does list to write all of their stories!
i really mean this more in the way of making a strict view of how exactly to portray a certain character especially when it comes to marginalized identity and psychology then makes a new box that pisses people off. people did not like autistic people being portrayed as emotionless genius robots who parade as people and that’s normal because that is fucked up. but why now does every autistic character need to be almost a joke about being “too weird”. why also does a character need to be confirmed by the creator to be anything. it’s definitely nice but to me if a character portrays your experience without being confirmed anything, why not just enjoy the character in the way you perceive them. i’m also just a really big fan of ambiguity and surrealism in art so that’s how i prefer to take it but i don’t understand why every single aspect of art needs to be labeled for enjoyment. it’s killing it.
i kind of got off track with this but i hope it’s clear how i feel like psychology effects art in the ways of when you confine symptoms to one box and you put people into those boxes and those people love art and make art. then the perception of art will be affected and it’s hurting it badly. it is okay to be uncertain but i think psychology is hurting people and art badly in tandem
#there’s also the issue of black and white thibking and absolutes thta have taken over the modern day#from both political extremism to your internal morality but that’s like. this will turn into an actual ten paper essay#and to be transparent on this. this id a lot of stuff i’ve only recently realized and started to unpack because i’ve stopped being obsessed#with these labels. so i am just kind of speaking from my heart and my perception of what was making me kind of crazy#psychology like is helpful to people and that shouldn’t be taken away from them#but i also just kind of wish it could quietly exist and be helpful.#because like ten years ago it was a fucking like social death sentence to be in therapy#and now it’s all you can hear or see be misconstrued on the internet but it’s hurting people more because they get out in a box#<again two very extremist points. we can never seem to find a middle ground#and it’s not bad for people to know terms or symtpms of what they have or think they have because then they can find tools to help#but the way people dissect individuals and lump them together in ‘avoidant type’ style boxes#when people have an array of experience and trauma and hardship under their belt that’s so unique to them it’s so harmful to lump them#in with so many others with that same individual experience. why do we have to mush people together to understand people#why can’t we just meet a person and let them tell us how they are and feel and came to be#sorry this is like my one million thoughts from the past couple months so i’m like. literal essay it has to stop now because i want a#peach red bull
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illdothehotvoice · 6 months
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Cosplay is such an expensive hobby and i don't go to enough cons or post any pictures online why do i do this to myself i just really like sewing sdhgjkfdnh
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midnapanda · 7 months
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I think Princess Peach is an aroace lesbian in that she is attracted to women but she doesnt Want a romantic relationship. Princess Peach tells a girl they're really pretty or hot, and then walks off gracefully, like nothing happened. This isn't my one interpretation of what Peach is attracted to, but I think this is a fun one at least. To me.
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transzilla · 2 months
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How To Suck Roid Clit and Tdick Like A 6Gal Bauer ShopVac
So I'm a trans man and I fucking love trans men and they love fucking me. I minored in t4t gay sex in college and giving head has always came very naturally to me as a specialty, administering orgasms has never been an issue but a lot of people have difficulty figuring tdick out after going on testosterone or figuring themselves out and don't know how to get dudes to pop off which is tragic to me. Plus we don't really have like... sex ed about how to do that so it's not like you can pick up a book. But that's what you have me for. If you suck at giving head I'm gonna teach you how to suck the rest of someone's life away.
So everyone is different, growth might look different on different people and sometimes you'll have somebody who has difficulty popping off just cause of weird nerve endings, obviously listen to what your partner tells you and what works for them because they're going to know better. I've been around with a lot of different men and this is just what's worked for me, if you try it and its TERRIBLE then don't think you're broken or whatever, our willies are just as diverse as we are :)
Generally though tdick kind of resembles a tiny penis especially when you've been on T for a long time. Personally I've been on T for five years and have a 2 inch monster and you can kind of see where the head would be vs the foreskin or whatever. Like my favorite analogy is that it looks like a .45 caliber bullet because that's what my dick looks like when I'm looking down, lol.
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Like the cap on the bullet would be the "head" and the cartridge casing is the length of the thing. Like on a guy's dick idk if anybody is getting tdick circumcized so when he's soft the skin will come up and guard the head/clit part because it's sensitive, you're going to want to find the head and kind of gently push past the skin with your tongue or your finger. Like get it on the head because largely that's the most sensitive part of his dick. when it gets bigger it kind of gets less sensitive, and you can't just rub the whole thing like on a clit off testosterone, uniform pressure might not always work. So keep your finger on the pulse, lol.
The simplest motion tht you can do, like a good part to lick on is right where the head meets the rest of his dick. There's almost a seam, kind of like on that bullet. Just rub in little circles with your tongue. Start gentle, gauge his reaction, and then go a little harder or a little faster. Also stay in one place once you get into a groove, the more you rub on one spot the more sensitive and the better it will feel.
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On the very APEX tip of his dick is where most of the nerves are bundled it's going to be the most sensitive, so if you want to make him jump or if he's not very sensitive rub there, lol.
Also, once you get that down, you can suck too! You want to make a seal with your lips around his dick, almost like you're pulling on a cigarette, or like you're sucking your lips on a peach to keep the juices from falling out. This intensifies it if his dick is not sensitive and keeps it in one place if he has a big dick.
If he likes penetration fingering him at the same time is not a bad idea either.
Also, mind the teeth, lol.
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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hii ^^ i looove your writing !! i’m so obsessed with this idea of best friend!eddie teaching virgin!reader how to give head😭😭😭 like maybe they’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on and out of pure curiosity she’s like “i wonder how it feels…does it feel good?” and omg he would be so vocal, sweet, and instructional😭😭😭
Just call me Mr. Munson
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rockstar!eddie munson x virgin best friend fem!reader
⚠️warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), slight female masturbation, corruption kink, slight dom!eddie, very dirty talk, honestly just filth, no use of y/n, overuse of the nickname peach and baby, eddie’s soft for us, readers 20 while Eddie is 21, corroded coffin are in the infancy of their career thus nothing has really changed in eddies life.
wc: 3.7k
note: thank you so much @wdsara48 for the request and the kind words! I hope you enjoy, babe 💗 (remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
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Your best friend is a rockstar, you always knew he’d make a name for himself with his music, you couldn’t have been more happy for him, but you also miss him like crazy when he’s on tour.
You’d always hang out with the guys when they’d get back; go out for drinks, have game nights at Eddie’s place which usually consisted of dnd, or hit up whatever party was happening that weekend.
The first couple of days were always the best, they would still be in their sex, drugs and rock and roll headspace, trying to adjust to normality after a crazy tour.
You knew all about their sexual escapades while away, of course they weren’t directly said to you, but to each other as you listened in, they’d occasionally throw you a look of remorse as if they’d ruin your virgin ears with their banter. Okay, so you were a virgin, it’s not like you can’t talk about sex though, you more often than not felt like their little sister and it drove you crazy.
You wanted to get some experience and maybe impress them with stories of your own, but when it came down to it, you chickened out. The thought of having sex with a random guy for the sake of gaining experience just didn’t sit right with you, and so you were never able to follow through with it.
You had always secretly hoped that Eddie would maybe teach you some stuff, you would replay possible conversations in your mind of how you’d want to ask him, but you couldn’t follow through with that either. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be experienced in that area, maybe it’s a good thing. Yeah, that’s what you tell yourself but it never really feels truthful.
Tonight you and Eddie have movie night, something you both like to do when he’s just gotten home and in need of ‘his best friend time’ as he puts it. You went and hung out at family video for awhile, Eddie catching up with Steve and Robin while you browsed the new releases, finally settling on some b rated cheesy horror movie and some snacks.
Once back at Eddie’s trailer, you set up the movie while he puts the popcorn on the stove, and unbags the rest of the junk food, while grabbing two beers out the fridge for you both. Throwing the popcorn in whatever big bowl he can find, he makes his way to you, with his arms full.
“Alright, you ready?” He motions to the tv with his head, while trying to gently place everything on the coffee table. “I have a feeling this is gonna be really gory, but yeah I’m ready.” You say before shoving a couple kernels of popcorn into your mouth, “it’s okay, peach. You know if it gets too scary you can always hold onto me.” He beams with a smug smirk. The use of his childhood nickname for you, makes your cheeks bloom a bright red, though it wasn’t out of embarrassment, but an overwhelming sense of pride that no one other than you, knew this side of Eddie, this sweet gentle side. You knew one day he’d get a girlfriend and she’d see this side plus so much more, the thought made your stomach twist in knots but couldn’t think about that, for now you would savor the moments you two spend together.
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You jokingly say, you rarely join in on Eddie’s flirting so when you do, it always catches him off guard. He side eyes you with a small smirk. “So, do you wanna smoke before I press play?” He asks while rubbing his palms on his Jean clad thighs. “Yeah, we can smoke.” Smoking with Eddie usually consists of you taking one hit while he kills the rest.
Correction, you took two hits this time, while Eddie took a couple more than you, before putting the joint out in the ashtray and discarding it off to the side, while pressing play on the remote. Something in the air felt different this time, you couldn’t put your finger on it but there was a tension you were never aware of before. Eddie kept sneaking glances at you, but when you’d look, his eyes would be on the screen, aside from the two times his eyes didn’t look away fast enough. You wanted to ask him if something was wrong or if you had something on your face, but the weed almost made you feel stuck or maybe you were too afraid of what would come out of the conversation.
After sitting in silence watching teenagers be picked off one by one, by some psycho killer as you sipped your beer and every once in a while grabbed for a candy or some popcorn. You took one last glance at Eddie, your eyes met but he looked away almost immediately back onto the screen.
When you looked back at the tv, the scene in front of you was a rather erotic one. The couple were in a car at some type of ‘lovers lake’ spot, the girl was bent over the middle console sucking the guys dick, while his head was thrown back on the head rest.
“What does that feel like?” The words leave your mouth before you are even able to grasp what it was you actually asked. “What?” Eddie asked as his eyebrows furrowed. “Getting head, what does it feel like?” You already asked, might as well find out the answer. “Um, well I mean it feels good.” He says, his eyes meeting yours as he white knuckles his beer bottle, taking a swig. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You don’t know what has come over you, almost like the weed has some type of truth serum in it, you couldn’t stop word vomiting your every thought.
Eddie almost spit out his sip of beer, but instead he swallows it harshly before choking. You sit up and pat his back, while laughing. “Shit, are you okay? Here, put your hands up.” You say as you try to help him lift his right arm into the air. “He pulls his arm away while rubbing his chest, “I’m alright.” He says gently, “you just, you can’t say shit like that, peach. Not to me.”
Now your eyebrows furrow, because what the fuck? He’s your best friend, he can talk about different women all day long and how he fucks them side ways from Monday, but you inquire about one sexual question and now it’s “you can’t say shit like that to me.” You roll your eyes and turn your body towards the tv, huffing out a breath in annoyance.
A couple minutes pass by before Eddie is knocking you out of your thoughts. “Listen, peach I-I,” you cross your arms as he talks, before you cut him off. “Eddie, it’s fine just drop it.” Eddie didn’t know how to drop shit, so you knew that wasn’t gonna happen. “Look at me.” He said with a domineering tone, making you turn your head almost immediately. “Listen, I just- I understand you’re curious and as your best friend I shouldn’t be weird about you, ya’ know experimenting and all that but, I don’t know the thought of some creep seeing you like that, I don’t know it just pisses me off.” He says through gritted teeth. “I get it Eddie, you look at me like your little sister or something.” You say as your head snaps back to the screen, screams booming from the speakers as one of the girls tries to outrun the killer.
“A sister?” Eddie says almost as low as a whisper, “I don’t think of you like a sister, peach. If I had a sister I definitely wouldn’t hang out with her as much as I do with you.” His words make your stomach flutter. “You don’t?” You ask in surprise. “No, no I don’t” Eddie says before taking another swig of his beer. “Well, so why does the thought of me doing that with someone piss you off?” You’re genuinely confused now. “I don’t know, it’s just you're so innocent about shit like that, and I don’t want someone taking advantage of you or..” he trails off before you begin talking, “okay? Well I mean I want to learn, I don’t wanna be a virgin forever.” You say as you roll your eyes. “And you will, just make sure he’s the right guy, ya’ know?”
“Isn’t the purpose to be good before you find the right guy?” You snort, “not necessarily.” He says back, while meeting your eyes. “Not many guys want a girl who doesn’t even know how to suck dick, correctly. Let alone a boring virgin.” You gloomily say while shooting him a bittersweet smile.
“Cmon peach, you’re more than your sexual status, you know that right?” He tilts his head closer to you, doing his best silly face to make you laugh, it worked just like it always did. “There she is.” He smirks.
A couple more minutes pass by before you say the words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, no more overthinking it. “Eddie?” You whisper, capturing his attention as he turns to look at you, “can you teach me?” His eyes widen, his mouth slightly drops open and it moves like he wants to say something but the words are stuck, until finally he’s able to get them out “Y-you want me to teach you?” He says in disbelief.
“Well, I mean I trust you more than anyone, and I’m sure you know what you like, so why not?” You shrug and then turn your head back to the tv for a second before you find his eyes again. “Are you sure about that, peach? I mean I want you to really know what you’re asking for here?” His knee begins bouncing before he’s reaching for the leftover joint in the ashtray. “I’m a big girl Eddie, I know what I’m asking for.” You smirk at the fact that you’re able to fluster him like this. “Okay, so you know the only way I can teach you is by, uh by showing you right?” You’ve never seen him this nervous before, maybe you should’ve done this earlier. “Yes, Eddie. How else would you teach me?” You raise an eyebrow, as he lights up the joint and takes a hit.
“Fuck, peach are you positive you wanna do this? I don’t wanna like fuck up our friendship or make shit weird between us.” He stares into your eyes, a look of genuine concern on his face as the smoke bellows from his mouth. You can’t help the insecurities bubbling up inside of you,“Eddie, if I'm not good enough to suck your dick, then just say that.” Your shoulders slump against the back of the couch, you look away because you can’t bear the rejection.
“Not good enough? What the fuck does that mean?” He says while scooting himself closer to the edge of the couch, trying to see your face from where he’s seated, you don’t answer. “Hey!” He almost shouts with that same domineering tone from earlier. He grabs your cheeks, almost pinching them, making your mouth fall open in an “o” shape. He turns your eyes to meet his, “look at me when I’m talking to you, peach.” His dominant voice gets softer at your nickname, the whole thing has you feeling butterflies somewhere else.
“You wanna learn? Okay then, get on your knees for me, and I’ll teach you. Just call me Mr. Munson.” He says with a cackle, making you laugh along.
You get up from your spot and take a couple steps, now standing in front of Eddie’s wide opened legs, he’s now sitting with his back flush against the couch, knees spread. You sink down to your knees, and look up at him for direction. He stares at you for a couple seconds, while his chest rises and falls.
“Okay, first you’re gonna unbuckle my belt.” He says with a low gruff voice, somehow you were able to undo the belt from the handcuff buckle, rather quickly.
You didn’t need to be told how to take his pants off, unbuttoning and unzipping them with fervor, before you put your thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and plaid boxers, but before you began pulling them down, Eddie stopped you— “hold on, baby.” He breathily says as he puts his heavily tattooed hands over yours, “I uh,” his hands are trembling, everything feels like too much in the moment, he’s never called you baby before but also, why is he so nervous? You know he’s gotten his dick sucked more than he probably even remembers yet here he is more nervous than you.
“Peach, I-I uh, you know I really care about you, right?” His gaze is stirring something inside of you, the adoration in his eyes, clear as day. “Yeah, of course I know that, Ed’s. I care about you too.” You beam up at him, from your spot between his legs.
He removes his right hand from yours, bringing his thumb to your jaw, gliding it against your skin inching closer towards your lips, Eddie rubs the pad of his thumb over your pouty bottom lip, moving it back and forth until his finger stops abruptly. “Open” was all he had to say for you to obey, you open.
His thumb instantly on your tongue, you didn’t need any more instruction as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked.
“Fuck” Eddie panted while holding your gaze, “you’re so fucking pretty, peach.” He took a few more heavy breaths before he continued, “I’ve always wanted to see you like this.” You can’t believe what he’s saying, ‘he’s always wanted to see me like this? Since when?’ But that’s a question for another day, you want this too bad.
Instead you shoot him a little smirk, “are you ready Mr. Munson?” You say in a seductive tone. “Y-yeah, I’m ready baby.” He laughs at the title he threw around earlier. Your thumbs take up their old position, slowly pulling his boxers and black jeans down to his knees. Eddie’s cock springs out, at attention. You don’t know much about dicks but he looks painfully hard, almost purple and throbbing while the tip leaks clear beads of precum, it makes your mouth water.
You reach for his cock, wrapping your dainty hand around his huge length. Eddie moves to sit up more, as if he needs to see everything you’re doing, “mmm, spit on it baby.” He softly commands as he bites his bottom lip. You get higher up on your knees, mouth a couple inches above his cock, letting a glob of spit fall out of your mouth and onto his angry tip.
Eddie shudders, before he continues his instructions. “Good girl, now rub the spit all over the head and shaft before you start the hand job, it can kind of hurt when it’s dry.” He says before yanking up his band shirt and pulling it up over his head, throwing it over the armrest of the couch.
Your eyes rake over his upper body, as you continue to pump him, his array of tattoos, some you’ve seen some you haven’t, along with nipple rings, yeah you’ve never seen those before. Fuck, he looked so good. You continued to gawk until your eyes met his, his cocky smile looking down at you, knowingly.
“See something you like, peach?” His cocky smile turned into a toothy grin. “Maybe” was all you said before taking his tip into your mouth and lightly sucking. Eddie’s hand flies to your hair, gently taking a handful, “fuck, I didn’t tell you to do that yet, did I? You’re supposed to be a good girl and listen, okay?” He says before pulling you off of his cock. “First I want you to lick from my balls up to the tip, do you understand?” He says while he has your hair pulled back and chin pointed up towards him, almost face to face.
You’ve never seen Eddie this way before, so in charge, so demanding, almost mean but so sexy.
You do as he asked, licking a strip up from his balls to his tip, out of pure curiosity you licked the new beads of precum just to taste, “fuck, you’re such a good girl” he growls, the praise going straight to your pussy.
“Okay baby, now I want you to do what you did before, put your mouth around the tip and suck.” You waste no time, putting the tip back into your mouth and sucking a little harder than before. “Fuck, just like that. Now, look up at me, peach. I need to see those pretty eyes, baby.” When you look up at Eddie, you want to commit the sight in front of you to memory and use it every time you're alone in your bed at night. His eyes were lust filled, his jaw was slack, his head was tilted down as he watched you through his lashes.
“Good girl, peach!” He groans “okay, now take it a little deeper, yes! Fuck that’s it, baby. Just like that.” You couldn’t help it any longer, you were so turned on, you snuck your hand inside your shorts, grinding down on your fingers as they slid across your soaked clit. You continued bobbing on Eddie’s cock, he gathered your hair up in a makeshift ponytail as he controlled your movements.
He was trying so hard not to push your head down and begin fucking your throat, like he was use to. No, he had to be gentle with you, his little peach. In high school, he had this fantasy almost nightly, you sucking his cock, on your knees all cute and innocent. Fuck, he felt like a pervert back then because of it. But now, it’s really fucking turning him on, and he’s more than okay with that.
He sits up slightly as he notices your right hand has disappeared, “are you touching yourself?” He asks with a wide eyed gaze. “Yes, I can’t help it, you’re so sexy.” You whine, not even realizing what you said.
“Oh?” He smirked, “you think I’m sexy?” His hips buck, making his tip hit the back of your throat, gagging you. “Fuck, I think you’re so fucking sexy, keep playing with your little pussy baby, cum for me.” He panted, “I wanna see your face when you come, peach. I need to see it.” You slid his cock out of your mouth as you began rubbing your clit harder, “mmm, oh fuck.” You moaned out, eyes rolling back.
“You sound so pretty, too. Can you take your shirt off for me, peach? Can I see your tits?” He begged, you slipped your hand out of your waistband, reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, then you unclasp the black bra that cupped your boobs perfectly. Eddie, doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
You pull the bra from your body, and throw it at him, as you giggle. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath as he sat up to get a better look, left hand lazily stroking his cock. His right hand reaches before he pulls it back, “can I- can I touch?” He asks softly. “Yes, you can touch Ed's.” You say with an innocent bat of your lashes.
He used both hands to grab handfuls of each breast, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “You really are so beautiful, you know that?” He asks, as he looks over your body and face.
“Yeah? You think so?” You ask as you reach for his cock, missing the way it felt between your fingers and in your mouth. “Oh, I know so.” He chuckles
“Teach me more, Ed’s? I wanna make you cum.” You whisper as you move your head closer to his cock, he can feel your breath on him, but it’s your words that are really doing it for him. He never thought he’d hear you like this, no matter how many times he’s fantasized, but now that he has, he’s addicted. He wants to be your first everything, he has to be.
“Fuck, keep touching yourself with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He whimpers, sitting flush against the couch again, with his head thrown back.
You stuff him back into your mouth, sucking and licking while your hand finds its way back into your shorts and over your clit.
“Yes fuck! Deepthroat baby, breathe through your nose and swallow, look up at me. Fuck yes, Jesus your mouth feels so fucking good.” He scrunches his face up in pleasure, letting out little “fucks” and “shits” as you took him deeper in your throat.
“Mmm alright, spit on it again.” He says as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping your bottom lip with it. You do as you’re asked, “fuck yeah, I like my head sloppy, baby.” You can tell he’s antsy and wants to cum and you’re right behind him, as you continue to rub yourself.
“Take your other hand and wrap it around the middle. Mhm, perfect peach, now I want you to put your mouth on me again, just the tip and a little bit of the shaft, yes just like that, fuck.” You’d do just about anything he asked of you right now, especially if he continues with those moans and his sweet words of praise.
“Okay, now I want you to twist your hand and go up and down, while you suck.” At first it was hard to keep the same rhythm as your hand, but you quickly got the hang of it. “Oh fuck! Oh my god baby! You’re fucking perfect.” He begins bucking his ups up towards your mouth, spit covering your hand as you continue your ministrations on him.
you’re so focused on making him feel good, you forgot about getting yourself off.
“Look at me, baby.” The sight of your tear stained cheeks and glossy eyes, got him. “I’m cumming, fuck!” You take it all into your mouth not letting even a drop go. “Holy shit, peach.” He growls “swallow it.” He demands, while watching you. “Let me see.” Another demand. You stick out your tongue, to show him you did as you were asked.
“Good girl, now get up here and let me make you cum.”
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Thank you for reading! 🍑
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peachesofteal · 8 months
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Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:
Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.
But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.
Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.
But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.
And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.
Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.
She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.
Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.
Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)
— 🫔 Anon
Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵
18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes
The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.
It’s the smell of their omega in distress.
But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.
The smell of an omega in heat.
But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.
Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.
Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.
“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.
There’s no answer. The flat is silent.
“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.
Except, you’re not.
It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.
Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.
“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.
When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.
You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.
“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.
Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.
Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?
They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.
“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”
You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.
Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.
“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.
“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.
Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.
“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.
“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.
They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.
It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.
“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.
You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.
“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.
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rebelliousstories · 16 days
Text
Peachy
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Strong Language, Brief Violence, Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,785
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: Lucy gets a front row seat to the strange happenings in the Wasteland.
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It should be a crime for the day to be this hot. With the sun beating down, it felt like she was going to die rather imminently. But that Ghoul behind her back kept marching her forward whenever she tried to drop. It was not until they made it to some abandoned, two-story building, that the duo was finally able to be granted a moment’s reprieve.
“Sit down Vaultie.” The Ghoul demanded, leading the woman to sit against the worn out walls and dimpled stone. The cool rock felt blessed beneath her body. Even through her Vault-Tech suit insulated her against a lot of the extreme weather, enough was able to slip through for her to begin to cool down.
“That’s a girl. Stayin’ the night here, but I wouldn’ go wanderin’ after dark. A lotta things worse than a ghoul round here.” He spoke once more, starting to gather carve himself a little spot where he could rest.
“Where are we?” Lucy finally asked, voice rasped with dehydration and exhaustion. However, the man did not answer. He simply stretched out his long limbs, and placed his hat over his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.
“Where are we?” She pleaded once more, to which the Ghoul was not sympathetic to.
“Hey!” Yelling now, the Ghoul picked his hat up from his eyes and set it back on his head while looking at the girl he held.
“Now, am I gonna have to cut out that tongue in order to get some peace and quiet?” Lucy was taken aback, and could not quite tell if he was joking or not. Taking his moment of silence, the man swept his hat over his eyes once more; but it did not last long. The clattering of something nearby caught the attention of the vault dweller, and surface dweller. With a heaving groan, the Ghoul stood back up, placed his hat on his head, and looked around. Lucy also tried to look, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary for the surface.
“Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time.” He muttered under his breath. Spurs clicked as he walked around and took inventory. But the clattering of a can behind him made the Ghoul pull his pistol and aim. There was nothing behind him, though. Lucy watched intently as the man surveyed his surroundings, and was just a beat too late to warn him about the shadowy figure to his back.
“Behind you!” The Ghoul did not have time to fire off a round. The figure jumped on his back, and locked on. He tried to swivel the creature off, but to no avail. Dropping to a knee, the Ghoul threw his assailant off of hm and on to the ground below. Whoever it was, they were fast. Reaching a leg up, the person managed to get him in a headlock with their legs, and rolled them around until they emerged on top. Pinning his hands down with both of theirs, the attacker shimmied out of the mask covering the bottom half of their face. It was a woman; a really pretty one at that.
“Hiya, Coop.” She teased, switching to a one handed hold on his wrists to snatch his hat off of his head. The piece of clothing was set upon her own head as a lazy smirk was pulled from his face.
“Well, if it ain’t my darling little peach.” He drawled. Once her other hand came down to rest on his wrists again, he switched their placements in the blink of an eye. Now, both of her wrists were in one of his, while his other came to rest behind her head. Cooper bucked the young woman up and off, spinning them around to pin her t the floor.
“Careful with that tone, Ghoul. Someone might think you missed me.” Once again, she was teasing. She spread her legs a little wider to accommodate him, and trailed one of them up to rest along his back. In turn, Cooper leaned down to get right up close to her face.
“Aww, we wouldn’t want that. Now would we, peaches?” A wicked smile decorated his face that she mirrored, and it seemed they were both trapped in their own little world for a time.
“How can you like him like that?” A high, feminine voice broke them free of their trance. Both Wastelanders looked over to the vault dweller with a mix of annoyance, confusion, and upset over being interrupted.
“Hope you’re not thinking of replacing me with that.” The woman, still pinned underneath the Ghoul, spoke. Her words did not sound as harsh as they should have; perhaps it was the smile that still plagued the woman’s face that offered her a softer edge that the usual surface dwellers Lucy had met thus far.
“Believe me, peach. Ain’t nothin’ able to replace you.” Cooper groaned out, letting the woman come to to sit and observe the woman before them.
“Ooo. You got yourself a Vaultie? You know how much they go for?” The woman asked, watching Lucy’s eyes widen in shock and horror. As much as she wanted to keep it going, the woman began laughing as she saw the expression on the vault dweller’s face.
“Nah, ‘m just messing with you. I ain’t got no clue how much y’all are worth. Probably a lot though. Whatcha doin’ travelin’ with this bag o’ bones?” Being friendly was confusing yet refreshing to Lucy, even as the mysterious woman remained tangled up in Cooper’s arms.
“Oh,” Lucy perked up, “well, I’m looking for my father. It’s a really long story but you are by far the nicest person I have met on the surface. My name is Lucy, and you are?” She rattled off, unable to contain her nerves or speech.
“Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve used my real name, I’ve nearly forgotten it. He calls me peach or some variation of it so-” squeaking out, the woman turned to see that Cooper had pinched her side hard in a warning.
“Okay. Not allowed to call me that then.” She supplied her real name afterwards, and saw the vault dweller before her visibly relax.
“Now that that’s out of the way, I bring gifts.” Untangling herself from the Ghoul, she made her way to where her bag was dropped. Lucy guessed that was what they heard falling before the ‘fight’ broke out. She pulled out a few cans of food, presumably, and tossed them to Cooper, however one of the cans was tossed towards Lucy. Reading the front of the label, she took not that it was a Vault-Tech brand of pie filling.
“Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” Cooper drawled, gratefully taking the jerky and chems that were provided.
“Well, figured you’d want a little gift for all your troubles.” Effortlessly, she just kept emptying her bags. Right when you think she is done, she would pull out more from the same place. It was, honestly, a wonder.
“One last thing. Just for us tonight.” Holding a can in her hands, she pulled a knife from her belt to begin cracking it open. The label was long since gone from it, but that didn’t stop them from eagerly tearing into it. Once she was close enough, she sat down and allowed Cooper to take it from her hands. He finished the job of getting the lid off of the can, and let delight take over his scarred features.
“Now, where’d you find this, peach?” He asked, letting her tuck herself under his arm to get closer.
“Trader I went to had a whole shipment of them Georgia. Well, what’s left of it. Anyways, you should be thankful I managed to get some. That one can cost me two hundred and fifty caps.” While his eyes did not bug out of his skull, his brow area did raise considerably when he heard the price.
“Careful, peach. Someone might think you like me.” Cooper stabbed a thick, juicy slice and brought it up to the woman’s lips to let her take a bite off, before bringing the other half of the slice to his own lips. A sinful groan was released from the both of them as they allowed the sugary sweet fruit to explode. It was a taste that Cooper was not sure if he would ever taste again after the bombs destroyed the world as he knew it.
“Is that peach? Is that what it’s supposed to taste like?” She asked, hoping sh had gotten it right. The Ghoul stabbed yet another slice and repeated the process from before as he watched the woman intensely.
“Yep. That is the sweet taste of peach, alright.” With how he was staring at her, the woman was not sure that he was talking about the fruit anymore. They continued to swap the fruit back and forth as they finished the can. When it got down to the juices, she pushed the can closer to him, encouraging him to take the drink. And he did; but that was not the end of it. As he drank down the last gulp of juices from the can, Cooper grabbed her chin, pressed his lips to hers, and pushed some of the liquid into her mouth instead. She chased the taste on his lips once she had taken her drink, and let herself get lost in the moment. He pawed at the layers covering her body, but the sound of Lucy finishing her can brought them out.
“I don’t feel like having an audience tonight, cowpoke.” She whispered, breathless, against his face. The hat was still set atop her head, and it was not going to be leaving anytime soon. A yawn tore through the woman in his arms, before being caught by Lucy against the stone.
“Really startin’ to get pissed at this Vaultie, peaches.” He whispered back, pressing another kiss to her lips, before returning to their previous position.
“Get some shut eye. We leave at day break.” Cooper said with a definitive tone, leaning his head back against the wall in an effort to sleep. The woman below him cuddled herself into his chest and drifted off to sleep without a worry of being attacked in her sleep. Lucy was the last one to close her eyes, but not the last one to fall asleep. Her mind raced with questions she wished she could ask, but thought better of not asking. Hoping that the mystery woman was there in the morning, the vault dweller and surface dwellers found themselves in the land of dreams before long, hoping and trying to survive till the next sunset.
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dmitriene · 1 month
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cw: dark content, dubious consent, spanking, humiliation, thigh riding.
you were a proper brat, the one that town sheriff jonathan price couldn't stand at all, every outing you made to the town was leaving him with bulging veins all over his neck and forehead, jaw grinding harshly as his calloused hand stroked his mutton chops.
price just hadn't a single nerve for your antics, wandering around the town in the tight little shirts of your daddy that you sewed to fit your body, the slinkiest denim shorts that was possibly existing were hugging your rounded ass cheeks, soft flesh barely peaking beneath when you were bending against the shop's wooden counters.
you were john's menace, stealing for your own fun some fresh juicy fruits from some poor lad's shop, never paying and always giggling, charming his brains out of his head so he wouldn't notice your arm full of sweetest peaches.
wandering around john's office, twirling your ass all around and chatting with muppets that were sitting in jail cells, the same place you should be sitting at least couple of hours as well, but price doesn't have a strength to run after you, and his boys were failing on catching you as well.
you outrunned every one of them, from charmingly annoying scott, to the politely sunny man that was called kyle, and even the behemoth of a man that everyone was naming as a ghost, mostly because he gave up the first time you shoved your tongue at him and sprinted away by jumping through the gates.
your biggest fault was stealing something from sheriff himself, wandering to price's office while he was out for some deal as you wiggled yourself through the open window, just «a silly joke» on him for not letting you having your fun and reporting each movement you did to your daddy, but oh, you shouldn't have touched his things at all.
shouldn't turn his neatly organized office upside down, climb through his shelves and touch folders with important documents, as well as shouldn't open the jail cells and let out those who were sitting there for malicious mischief and other, similar to this one, things.
it really wasn't worth it to end up bent over a hard, muscular lap, with your tight little shorts dangling at your feet and cotton panties crumpled just enough to expose your rounded, soft rear to the silent room, where the only sound that resonates off the brick walls is loud, raw spanking slaps.
it's the first time in a long when john was that much furious, making his face go deep shade of red out of anger, fists tight and whitening at his sides when he opened the door to his office, catching you off guard in the middle of your antics, azure eyes darkening almost immediately as his fingers twitch and grasp at your hair, rippling out a loud, strained squeak off of your pretty lips.
you clearly didn't expect to see him, that john could tell, as well as end up half naked before his intense, burning gaze, a complete mess with your hands literally tied, now you couldn't run away from him, not when he finally caught you up.
maybe he enjoyed it too much, the thrill of having something that was constantly running from him made warmth bubble in his bulky body, like a game of cat and mouse, but finally you got exactly what you deserved, and john intended to feed it to you till the last spoon.
— “cocky, impudent little brat„ he all but barks and growls, making you shook not only from the stinging pain on your bulging ass cheeks, but also because of slightest fear that grip your body in its clutches, holding you unmovingly on john's thick thighs as you let out whimpers and tiny, ringing mewls.
tiny rope bites at your sore wrists, calloused palm slaps against your completely raw, reddened flesh with licking pain, your limbs feel absolutely putty, useless in your current state, with fat salty tears rolling against your fluttering eyelashes and down the flushed cheeks.
he smells of musk and gunpowder, sweat, scent with which he came back at least hour ago, and you knew that you're in for trouble, because he reeled of irritation.
all this situation was supposed to scare you away, make you beg for forgiveness, but you welcome each and every harsh slap with pooling wetness in the gusset of your cotton panties, the gentle lips of your pretty pussy visible just enough for john's gaze to catch on, and he straight on slows down.
the only thing that you register in your buzzing brain is harsh puffs that comes off his mouth, before dry ungloved fingers slide up against your folds, gathering the sticky, pooling mess, and you jolt, sobbing out a high gasp, which makes price huff out bewilderedly — “fuckin' hell, you're getting off to this, sweetheart? enjoying the humiliation?„
that makes your blood run incredibly hot, cheeks and ears burning up harder than the sensitive flesh of your perched ass, and you wiggle intuitively, pussy throbbing on itself and making you whimper, sincerely plaintively, cotton fabric sticking to your slicky folds, as you gather the courage to wobble out the small — “n-no„
but your body doesn't agree, you're aching, every limb feels as if it's itching and pulsing, you don't see how price bores his cerulean eyes into the slick gathered on his thick fingers, his own body rolling with waves of heat, clothes feels suddenly too tight for his own good, before he yanks your tied hands.
sudden movement makes you choke a squeak, rope still biting into the thin flesh of your wrists as he moves you to straddle his thighs, sitting securely, making your denim shorts slip off your legs completely and to the floor, as air in his messy office bites your sensitive ass cheeks, before there's another delivered, stinging slap.
you cry out, body jolting and pressing against his as you fall face first into his shoulder, inadvertently inhaling his cologne and hints of leather, his rough fingers knead your ass, calloused thumb rubbing strangely soothing circles that make your plush thighs squeeze together around his, desperate need for some kind of relief wells up hot and bothering, in your tummy and pulsing, currently neglected cunny.
price drinks up your every reaction like the most delicious whiskey, the labored breaths and the feel of how your pussy throbs, he can feel it all, together with hardening sensation in his boxers that makes his pants feel too tight beneath you, but it all will end up more than soon, cause his free hand moves to grip the back of your neck.
he's tugging, making your spine arch as your mound rubs against his leg just the right way, and he growls, head tilting to whisper out in your ear, his facial hair rubbing your skin harshly — “let's see how brave you are for real, darling? get off what's bothering you, and maybe.. maybe i'll consider to not telling your daddy what happened here today„
that makes you mewl so embarrassedly, nod your head silently into his muscular shoulder as your rounded hips roll cautiously, sudden pleasure sparks all through your shaking body as you still hide your face from him, but it doesn't matter, cause you're already signed the deal with sheriff jonathan price.
and no one in this town, if it's not the future dead man walking, will risk betraying the deal with him.
so you roll your hips rhythmically, letting your sopping pussy glide smoothly against his clothed thigh as your ass perches up, with his thick hand still caressing and kneading shamelessly, your strained, panting voice huffs out ashamed and delirious — “y-yes, sir„ which pulls a wide grin to his lips and a dark glint to his vivid eyes.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
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jyoongim · 2 months
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~BLOOD & BLISS~
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Human!Alastor x wife!Reader
Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 
In this chapter: slow build up! Smut! Love-making, Creampie, slight breeding kink
this chapter is VERY long!!!
Chapter one Chapter three
Chapter two
The sound of voices filled your home as the ladies chatted in your parlor.
“Oh honey is that peach cobbler? Why you would think it was Sunday with the spread you made.” Agnise said as you came from the kitchen with the dish and placed it on the dessert table, causing all the ladies to turn to you.
You had finger sandwiches filled with ham, beignets, one too many cakes, banana pudding, sweet tea and lemonade.
You were in a baking mood and since it was just high noon, you kept it lite for today’s meeting.
You let out a laugh “oh it was nothin’. Thought we deserved a treat since the last time we saw each other. We housewives deserve a little sugar sometimes.” The ladies giggled at your comment.
Grabbing a sandwich, you took a seat by Rosie, “Now what were y’all talking about while i was in the kitchen?”
”Abi was telling us the Smiths youngest was found in bed with that scrappy gent that worked down at the mill” Rosie said, sipping her tea. You gasped, hand over your heart “Ain’t that girl engaged to um oh what that boy’s name?” You snapped your fingers trying to think
”David Johnson” Abigail snickered “Just know Old smith threw a fit. I heard her mother went crying to the church shouting. Ooooh must have been real bad”
Agnise chimed in “Also Harriet told me that Elaine is expecting…and it ain’t her husband’s” shocked gasps filled the room. “Elaine? As in love the church, has three youngins Elaine? Oh that poor woman I don’t know how she do it” Rosie shuddered. Abigail smirked “Yeah poor Elaine, so who’s the father?”
Agnise chuckled “Take a guess”
Literally you, Rosie, and Abigail looked to each other puzzled.
”Pastor Brown from the next town over”  Agnise said.
squeals and laughs erupted from all of you.
You shook with laughter as you took a deep breathe. “Ok ok enough of that. How have y’all been?”
Rosie was running a boutique, New Orleans finest clothes and it was really taking off. She talked about how some cheap fabrics came in and she ain’t have a clue what to do with them.
Agnise happily chirped about how her two oldest had got accepted in some fancy school on the other of town.
Abigail complained that she thought the maid was stealing her clothes, claiming too many of her fine dresses were missing out of her closet.
”Oh dear how is that handsome husband of yours? I was hoping to the man when I was coming in.” Rosie said smiling. 
Rosie and Alastor were the closest besides Mimzy. He often dropped by to have her make your clothes and tailor some of his suits.
”Oh you know how Alastor is” you waved your hand, “he set out early this morning to the radio station. We’re suppose to down to Mimzy’s club tonight”
Agnise and Abigail looked at you shocked “That ol rigity joint? Oh darling no. That man makes good money, why y’all going down there?”
You had met Agnise and Abigail when you were in school.  They were a bit more Polish than Rosie who didn’t mind a good time.
”I think that lounge is rather charming. The music is good.” You defended.
”Well enjoy it now, I had a dream bout fishes and you know what that mean” Agnise said, giving you a knowing look.
You blinked, then blushed, taking a sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you feigned dumb.
She smirked, red lips curling “You’ve been hiding news from us haven’t you?”
Abigail looked at you, “Are you?”her honey eyes roamed over your figure.
”Ladies no! I’ve told y’all me and Alastor haven’t discussed children. We don’t have time for that” you said pouting at their accusations.
”What man don’t want his own running around? The two of you been married for a few years now, i had half expected at least something.” Agnise said.
”Alastor has just settled in good as radio host. What kind of wife would I be if I just randomly suggested having a little one running around? No I couldn’t.” You gripped your cup, looking down.
You and Alastor hadn’t really discussed children. You figured you would wait a few years to get settled into your marriage before thinking of children.
With alastor’s career taking off, you didn’t have it in you to just spring the notion on him.
You didn’t mind. It was quite nice not having to clean and look after a baby.
BUT 
You did want to potentially have children with Alastor.
The house would be a lot livier and you thought Alastor would make a great father.
”Y’all ain’t getting any younger dear!” Agnise said “i mean unless there’s a another woman invovled”
Rosie let out a hiss, glaring at the woman “Oh shush that! Alastor wouldn’t do that! He loves his wife too much to even look at another woman”
Agnise shrugged.
Abigail patted your hand “Honey don’t listen to her. I am sure you’ll have a whole litter running around afterwhile. Not having children ain’t all that grand.”
You pouted. That did not make you feel better.
Rosie seeemd to pick on up your down mood and interjected
”We came to discuss books! Enough of this husband and children talk! So we left off at Charles securing the mistress!”
The little gathering went on without a problem, but the comments and conversation still bounced in your head. 
Alastor wouldn’t seek out another woman just because I haven’t…right?
You and Alastor’s intimate life was fine to your knowledge.
 The man wasn’t the most affectionate, but he did try. 
He was loving and gave you anything you wanted.
THATS what any wife wanted right?
Not having children didn’t seem to make him any less doting with you.
But you still felt that nagging doubt as you tried to reassure yourself.
”Bye now! Tell Nathaniel I said hello and Abi please just see if the maid took your dress!”you hollered from your porch, waving the ladies as they smiled and walked down the street.
You sighed. Rosie had stayed behind and was cleaning up.
”oh Rosie you’re a guest please let me” you said grabbing the dirty dishes.
”I’ve been here so much this is practically my home girl please.”she laughed as she grabbed the tablecloth and put in in the hamper.
”Those two are certainly a handful. Don’t take what they said to heart. They are just bitter their husbands don’t love on them like yours” she chided.
You hummed. Rosie was right. What did it matter that you didn’t have kids? That didn’t change anything.
”I know Ro but I feel like I’m failing as a wife. But i promise I’m fine I swear” you quickly said as she gave you a look.
She looked at the clock “Oh my well look at the time! Do give Alastor my love dear”
You gave her a hug and walked her out, waving her goodbye as she waltzed down the road.
You were now alone.
The house was quiet and you had cleaned up everything so you wouldn’t have to look at the mess in the morning.
You rolled your shoulders, sighing at the tension and decided a quick nap wouldn’t hurt as you wait for Alastor to come home.
—————————————————————————————————
The sun began to slowly set through the trees as Alastor ran a bloody hand through his hair, the brown strands slicking back as he breathed deeply. The man had put up quite a fight, but luckily Alastor could quickly deal with his little problem. 
He had planned to take his wife out for tonight, but with the way he was feeling, he would rather be in your embrace and sleep.
He would stop and get you your favorite flowers as an apology and maybe cook for you instead. A soft smile appeared on his face as he imagined your face as he came in with flowers and kissed your soft lips as he propose hell cook for dinner.
Soft jazz would be playing and after the meal he would ask you to dance. Peppering your face in kisses as you laughed at him, thinking he was silly.
And maybe afterwards, he could indulge himself in you. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of your face contorted in pleasure. 
Oh yes he was sure you wouldn’t mind why he came home late
He hid away his shovel in an old storage house and changed clothes.
Getting in his car, he hummed along to the radio as he thought of what to make for dinner.
—————————————————————————————————-
Alastor softly closed the back door as he slowly set down the flowers and groceries. He peeked his head in the parlor and found you sleeping on the couch.
He quickly made his way upstairs, hid his clothes in the back of your closet, showered, and went back down stairs.
He grabbed the flowers and slowly slid beside you, pulling you into his lap.
You snuggled into his neck, eyebrows scrunching, waking up ”hmmm Alastor?” you groaned as he snickered. He pressed his lips to your plump cheek “Seems my darling wife had a very long day. Seems I got caught up at work and didn’t catch the time. But…” he pressed the flowers to your nose as you took a deep inhale of the flowers, smiling “I do hope you would forgive dear.”
Your heart fluttered at the man, standing to put the bouquet in a vase.
You caught sight of the time and gasped “oh no! I can’t believe I fell asleep for that long, lord on high I ain’t got a single thing out to cook.” You went to make your way to the kitchen, but Alastor was quick to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his lanky frame. “Don’t you worry about dinner darlin’ I got it. I had promised you a night out and forgot. So to pay for my offense Ill cook dinner and why don’t you go upstairs and put on something pretty  for me hmm?” He pressed a few soft kisses along the column of your neck, making your breath hitch slightly, before patting your ass to get you moving towards the stairs.
Once you made it back downstairs, the smell of dinner made your stomach growl.
Alastor was just setting th plates as you entered the kitchen. “Book club must have been something today, I see you baked a lot of goods today. Good thing I checked before thinking of making dessert” He turned to actually look at you.
Gorgeous is what he thought as he took you in.
You opted for a simple slip dress that fell just before your knees. How enticing.
 You accessorized with your pearls and even had your hair curled slightly.
He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bring a hand to his lips, kissing it as he looked at you with utter devotion.
”My my don’t you look lovely dear” he whistled, twirling you around slowly.
You blushed and looked towards the stove “Dinner smells great Al, what did you make?” He ushered you to the dining table and pulled you chair out for you to sit before fetching tonight’s dinner.
Shrimp and grits in one bowl and jambalaya.
For dessert he took a piece of butter cake that you made earlier and chilled sweet tea and lemonade.
You moaned in delight as the flavor of the jambalaya burned your mouth. “Oh Al! You added a bit more spice this time but it goes good with the grits. oh i love your jambalaya.” You praised him.
You practically danced in your seat as you ate causing Alastor to chuckle.
”I never tire of your praise for my mother’s recipe my dear. I must say this cake might just be my new favorite” he said.
You decided to fill him the latest gossip you heard today from the ladies
”Rosie sends her love by the way. Oh you would not believe what Agnise told us today…” you started.
Alastor had a lazy smile on his face as you talked animatedly about todays gossip. He nodded along and even gasped at the details you shared. You made him swear he wont repeat it anywhere, including on the radio.
You took a sip of lemonade ”Agnise made a comment that she was surprised we haven’t had kids yet. Can you believe that woman?” Alastor tilted his head “I wouldn’t put it pass that one. Well what did you say?”
Alastor asked taking in your reaction as you pouted, swirling your fork in your grits before stabbing a shrimp. You sighed “I told her that we just weren’t ready. I mean you just got settled in at the studio good. Then the nerve of that woman to say that you were probably seeing another because I wasn’t putting out.” You mumbled that part, feeling  pinges of doubt start to rise in you as you looked at him.
Alastor scoffed “darling I only ever had eyes for you” he reached across the table to grasp your hand, thumb fiddling with your wedding ring. “Nothing will make me look at you different. To me, you’re perfect. You are much more than I could ever deserve” he smiled at you. “Do you want children darlin?” He asked.
You blinked, a warm blush crept up your cheeks “I-I mean it might has crossed my mind once of twice, but I-I dont know” you looked away, feeling shy.
Alastor grinned “I think you would make a wonderful mother my dear. Through I will admit having to share you i dont know about that” he laughed “buuuuut if having children will make you happy, who am I to say no?” His voice dropped an octave as he smiled at you.
You were shocked. You hadn’t thought that Alastor would be open to having children. But you didn’t just want to have kids because of social pressure. You wanted it to be something you were sure of…
”Its a big responsibility if we have children Al”you whispered. He hummed, shrugging “Dear I make more than enough that our children will have comfortable upbringing, besides Ill be there the whole step of the way”
That reassurance made your heart swell.
You smiled, a soft laugh bubbling out of your chest “Then I guess well see what happens then huh?”
You finished dinner, Alastor leaving the dishes to soak and you giggled as he dragged you upstairs. “Alastor! Hahaha dont you have work tomorrow?” You entered your shared bedroom and squealed as he lavished your exposed shoulders in kisses.
He groaned in response as he unbuttoned his shirt as his hands gripped at your hips.
”what do that have to do with us delving into the throws of pleasures darlin? Its been quite some time since I’ve paid you proper attention.”
Your back hit the duvet as he situated himself between your thighs. Your dress bunched at your hips, exposing your lacy garter. His hand toyed with the fabric, lips curling in a smirk “Were you planing to seduce me dear?” You shook your head as you curled your arms around his neck, pulling his head to meet his lips.
”Hmmm lets keep the pearls and garter on” he grinned down at you.
”Nngh! Ah! Ah! Ha! Ah! Oh god!”you cried out as Alastor thrusted into you. Your fingers gripped at his hair as you moaned into his neck, kissing over the red bruises forming on his skin.
Fingers flexed on your thigh, keeping your leg pressed into your stomach. The only sound that filled the room were your sweet moans and his soft grunts and the slap slap of his dick burying into your cunt.
Alastor’s back muscles flexed as you raked a hand along his back, groaning as your nails left burning trails into his flesh.
”One more. You can give me one more can’t you darlin?” He asked huskily as he snapped his hips into yours.
Your body buzzed as your third orgasm approached. The pearl necklace that hung around your neck, bounced with your breasts as Alastor nipped at your neck. One of his hands crept up your chest to play with one of your nipples. Tugging and pinching the perk peak as your cunt clenched around him.
”I can’t wait to see you pregnant ma cher. All nice and round, carrying my child.”
A sharp pinch had you whining “These lovely tits of your full of milk god I can’t wait to taste it” his head shifted to your chest, his warm mouth taking the mound into his mouth. Teeth and tongue teased as his thrusts picked up pace.
”A-Al! Oh! Oh! P-Please!” You threw your head back in pleasure.
Alastor couldn’t help but let his twisted feelings take over, a hand wrapped around your throat, applying slight pressure as you whined.
He brought his face back to yours, nose brushing against yours as your swollen lips enticed him to suck and bite at them. He maneuvered both your thighs to be pressed against your stomach, giving him leverage to hammer into you soppy heat.
”You want me to give you a baby darlin? Hmm? Want me to fill the needy cunt of yours and spill my seed into you?”you moaned, eyes glazed with lust.
Alastor smirked “Use your words baby. C’mon” a harsh thrust made your toes curl.
”y-yes please please Alastor give me a baby!” You cried.
A wild look was in his eyes 
“Oh ill give you all the babies you want. I’ve wanted to see you swollen with my child since our wedding day. You’ll look so pretty baby. All filled with my cum and swollen. Yeeesss what a lovely sight you’ll make”
His thumb worked tight circles on your clit as your back arched into him as your orgasm ripped through you. Alastor slammed his lips on yours to swallow the loud moan that tried to spill from your lips.
He grunted as his hips shuddered. Chasing his orgasm as he rode yours out. With a hiss, his dick twitched and soon warm cream painted your gummy walls.
With a sigh, he coaxed his tongue against yours as he gave you a few more soft thrusts.
Panting and flushed, your legs fell limp as he pulled out and smirked at the mess he had made of you.  A white stream slowly pooling out of you.
Spent and feeling the blissful afterglow, you curled into the covers, wincing at the stickiness between your thighs. Alastor pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead “normally Ill clean you up, but since were trying no need.” He brushed a curl out of your face as you began to fall asleep
”Alastor?” You said tiredly.
He hummed, as he ran his hand up and down your arm, admiring the red bruises on your neck and shoulder
”I love you”
He grinned as you dozed off.
”I love you too dear”
———————————————————————
Soooo what did you guys think??? Bit of a slow burn yes? we got a peak into what Alastor was doing hehehee
@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau  @karolinda007-blog @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000 @luzzbuzz @stygianoir @kiralaufeyson84 @for-hearthand-home @luzzbuzz
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sturnioloskyline · 2 months
Note
Idk if your right something like this but I’d find it so silly if you could! So the idea is Matts girlfriend and she’s has ADHD and she like vocal stims a lot when she’s comfortable around people,and she’s always saying the most outrageous things she hears from TikTok’s as a vocal stim ( I can’t go a second with out going “ hundred bans in my panties” because the cortisa star song that’s on my fyp but you can do any TikTok sound!) And she’s like either whispering it or yelling it when she deems it to quite around her! Or something of the sorts if you don’t do this it’s totally ok! Have a wonderful day/night! 🤍💙
blurt out
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pairing: matt x fem!adhd!reader
warnings: language, adhd(obv), stimming, cheesy fluff, not proofread
summary: whenever there’s a catchy audio on tiktok, it somehow becomes one of your stims.
disclaimer: i am by no means romanticizing adhd. some of this is slightly based off of my own experiences with being neurodivergent, but i also did some research online, so i apologize if anything is inaccurate!
matt was incredibly understanding and supportive when it came to your adhd. when you first started dating, you were so nervous to tell him, and would mask it all the time around him. but as your relationship progressed, you realized that matt would never judge you or think of you any differently for your adhd.
so you became a lot more open about your adhd, and to be honest, matt loved it. he loved when you told him about your hyperfixations, and he adored the way you’d try to focus so hard while he spoke to you.
after a few months of dating, matt and his brothers had grown completely used to your adhd symptoms. they understood that your short attention span and fidgeting were just parts of what made you you, and they wouldn't have it any other way.
this particular day, nick had suggested that you join them as a special guest for their next car video. you were sitting in the passenger seat of the car, waiting for matt to check the camera angle. chris sat behind you in the backseat, with nick to his side.
you watched as matt stood in front of the minivan, bending slightly over the hood to get a good look at the viewfinder of the camera. he gestured to the left, and you reached out to the dashboard to adjust the camera's position. matt gave you a thumbs up and made his way back to the driver's seat.
"okay, looks good," matt said as he got in the car. he smiled at you warmly, wanting to provide you with a sense of comfort. this was the first video of theirs that you would ever be in, so it was safe to say that you were a bit nervous.
"alright. hey guys, happy friday," nick addressed the camera, leaning forward so he was farther in frame. "today we have a special guest."
you smiled and waved at the camera, glancing at matt who just grinned.
"this is matt's girlfriend, y/n," nick explained. chris let out a cheer, causing you all to laugh. "we're gonna do a q&a with y/n using questions that you guys sent us on instagram."
nick pulled out his phone and began to scroll through the thousands of answers to the triplets' instagram story, searching for a good starter. you looked back at him expectantly before something shiny next to chris caught your attention.
"what's that?" you asked chris, pointing to the can that was in the cupholder next to him. chris pulled it out, scanning the label.
"uhh, it's peach redbull," chris shrugged.
"oh my god, can i please have it?" you asked excitedly. matt chuckled as chris handed you the can, which you immediately grabbed and cracked open. you took a sip and let out a sigh, smiling and setting the can down in the cupholders between you and matt.
"okay first question," nick said, sticking his hand out to grab everyone's attention. "what's it like dating a triplet?"
"um..." you looked out the window, thinking about how you wanted to answer. "i mean, it's like dating any other person, just with triplet brothers? yeah, i guess you could say it's different, because i hang out with you guys all time, but that doesn't mean that me and matt don't like, have our own little moments. but being a triplet doesn't really change anything much. this way i get a boyfriend plus two built-in best friends, which is cool. but me and matt have a pretty normal, average relationship."
you blushed with self-consciousness as you realized you were rambling, quickly shutting your mouth and ending your rant with a quick nod. matt found your word vomit adorable, however, bringing his hand close to your knee, lightly brushing it with his knuckles out of view from the camera. you smiled softly at the reassurance.
nick scrolled through and asked a few more questions, occasionally interrupted by a random tangent that chris went on or something that caught matt's eye through the widow. the video ended up growing longer as the four of you jumped from topic to topic. it was as if you just couldn't stop talking, all of you interrupting each other excitedly and laughing loud enough for the entire parking lot to hear. you grew much more comfortable, slightly forgetting that you were even on camera.
while nick returned to his phone to look for more questions, you, matt and chris were silently communicating. the three of you passed looks to each other, holding back fits of laughter.
"okay, someone asked what you like to—"
"head so good she on honor roll," you blurted out loudly, interrupting nick. the car went silent as you clapped your hand over your mouth, glancing over the camera.
chris erupted into giggles, causing matt to join him. nick started chuckling too.
"sorry! that song is literally all over my for you page right now," you apologized, laughing slightly out of embarrassment. that song had been all you were hearing for the past week, so naturally it worked its way into becoming one of your vocal stims.
"you're fine, y/n. let's move on," nick rolled his eyes at his brothers, who were smacking each other out of laughter.
...
author's note: been a busy week, will post way more on the weekend i promise. also, would it be more fun if i posted one fic every monday, wednesday, and friday? lmk! love u guys 🤍
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kckt88 · 29 days
Text
Closer
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Summary:
Lucaela is a strong bastard-the twin sister of the boy who maimed him with a blade, but she's also the sweetest Omega he's ever scented, and Aemond soon finds himself unable to fight against the primal urge of the Alpha inside him, who has chosen his neice as the perfect mate.
Warning(s): Language, Angst, Masturbation, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, P in V, Knotting, Mating Bites.
AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C LUCAELA VELARYON
INSPIRED BY - 'NINE INCH NAILS - CLOSER'
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Word Count: 4569
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Aemond strode across the training grounds of the Red Keep, his sword in hand, the sound of steel slicing through the air as he practiced his swordsmanship. His movements were fluid, each strike precise and powerful, a testament to years of training and discipline.
As he paused for a moment to catch his breath, a sweet fragrance wafted on the breeze, the scent of ripe peaches teasing his senses. Aemond's nostrils flared as he instinctively turned his head, searching for the source of the delightful aroma.
And there she was, emerging from the shadows like a vision—Lucaela, his niece a recently presented Omega. Her presence stirring the Alpha within. She was the twin sister of Lucerys, the boy who had took his eye when they were children. Aemond harboured a deep-seated hatred for Lucerys, but he couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards Lucaela.
"Lucaela," greeted Aemond, his voice low and tinged with a hint of something he dared not name.
“Uncle” replied Lucaela.
A wave of desire swept over Aemond like a tempest, igniting a fire within his soul that threatened to consume him whole.
Lucaela was the epitome of beauty, her long, dark wavy hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk, framing her delicate features with an ethereal glow.
Her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of light purple, she was the only one out of her strong siblings that had inherited the Targaryen eyes.
And then there was her peach scent that enveloped him like a cloak, sending his senses reeling with its intoxicating allure. It was a scent he could never forget, a scent that awakened the Alpha within him, urging him to claim the omega as his own.
With every breath he took, Aemond could feel the pull of Lucaela's scent drawing him closer, igniting a hunger deep within him that refused to be ignored. The Alpha inside him roared with a primal need, demanding dominance, craving possession.
“What brings you to the training grounds?” asked Aemond, the point of his sword digging into the ground as he rested his weight upon it.
“I found myself drawn to this part of the castle-I was watching you train” replied Lucaela.
“-And did you like what you saw?” rasped Aemond smirking.
“Your skill with the sword is impressive-you’ll win many tourneys”.
“I don’t give a shit about tourneys-nephews have you come to train?” quipped Aemond as Jace and Luke came to a stop beside Lucaela who scowled.
“Open the gates-“
Aemond smiled at Vaemond Velaryon made his way inside the Red Keep, flanked by a retinue of guards.
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Alone in the dimly lit chambers, Aemond sat upon a plush chair, his mind consumed by thoughts of Lucaela.
The sweet scent of peaches still clung to the air, haunting him with its intoxicating allure. Aemond's fingers clenched tightly around the armrests of his chair as he fought against the primal urges stirring within him.
The petition for Vaemond to seize control of Driftmark had failed, his sickly father had miraculously roused himself from his stupor and came to the aid of Rhaenyra-his favourite child.
Viserys had steadfastly upheld the bastard strong boys claim to Driftmark and Vaemond had lost his head for it.
Now he would have to endure spending more time in the presence of Rhaenyra and her brood of bastards, his presence would be expected at dinner, and he would have to be in the same room as Lucaela.
Never in his life had he been this tempted by the scent of an Omega, just thinking about her was enough to make his cock hard. He’d already fucked his fist three times since their encounter in the training yard and it had done nothing to satisfy his desire.
Aemond closed his eye, trying in vain to banish her from his thoughts, but her image remained etched into the depths of his mind. The soft curve of her lips, the warmth of her gaze—each detail a tantalizing temptation that threatened to unravel his self-control.
For an Alpha, the scent of an Omega, especially a newly presented one, is like a siren's song, weaving its way through the air and captivating their senses with its intoxicating sweetness. It ignites a fire within them, awakening desires that they struggle to contain.
The Alpha within him surged with a primal longing, a desire as ancient as time itself. It whispered to him in the depths of his soul, urging him to claim Lucaela as his own, to make her his mate, and to sire pups with her.
In the quiet solitude of his chambers, Aemond wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between the responsibilities of his station and the yearnings of his heart. His Alpha instincts raged, demanding dominance and possession, driving him to seek out Lucaela and bind her to him in an unbreakable bond.
He imagined her taking his knot, his fangs sinking into her neck, forever claiming her as his. He pictured her belly swollen with his pups. The Alpha within him growling with satisfaction, his cock hard again.
“Fuck-“ groaned Aemond as his hands moved to untie his breeches once more.
Not even a day she had been back in the Red Keep and already he’d been reduced to hiding in his chambers fucking his own fist.
He briefly considered finding another Omega or perhaps a Beta female, perhaps if he could find one that looked similar to-
NO-the Alpha inside him would not accept a substitute, it had to be Lucaela.
His cock as hard as steel, already leaking precum and he began to move his hand up and down.
“Fuck-“ groaned Aemond his hips moving back and forth.
His mind a wash with vivid images of Lucaela, under him, on top of him, of him behind her, fucking his knot into her sweet wet warm cunny.
Gods he felt like he was in rut, his hips and fist moving faster, he was close-so close.
The scent of peaches-fuck he wondered if she tasted like a ripe peach, one of his favourite fruits.
Soft-sweet, perfect for sinking his teeth into.
“Lucaela-my Lucy-MINE” roared Aemond as he erupted, his seed spilling all over his fist and lower abdomen.
Aemond collapsed against the back of the chair, his heart pounding in his chest, the knot at the base of his cock throbbed continuously.
Then a soft knock at the door, broke Aemond out his reverie.
“Dinner is ready Prince Aemond-your presence is expected”.
“I’ll be there in a moment” replied Aemond, tucking his cock back in his breeches and reaching for a cloth.
God this dinner was going to be hell. But he must endure. He must do his duty. He supposed he could always hold his breath, that way he would smell the Omega’s scent, but that would also lead to his untimely death, and he couldn’t hold his breath all night.
His cock stirred once again at the thought of Lucaela and Aemond shook his head in disbelief.
“Fuck sake-not again” snapped Aemond as he ran a hand over his face.
No-he couldn’t indulge himself, otherwise he’d be late. So, with a deep breath he left his chambers and made his way to the dining room.
Praying to every fucking one of the seven that he could restrain himself.
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The scent of roasted meats and spiced wines filled the air, mingling with the chatter and laughter of his relatives, yet beneath the facade of familial camaraderie, Aemond's inner turmoil raged like a storm.
Seated alongside his kin, Aemond struggled to maintain his composure, his fingers tightening around the stem of his goblet as he forced himself to focus on the conversation swirling around him. But try as he might to distract himself, his thoughts kept returning to Lucaela.
The Alpha within him clawed desperately at the confines of his self-control, yearning to claim her as his own, to dominate and possess her in a primal display of dominance. It whispered seductive promises of fulfilment and satisfaction, urging him to seize what he desired most.
But Aemond knew he couldn't succumb to those urges, not here, not now, surrounded by his family so, Aemond gritted his teeth against the tumult of his inner turmoil, his facade of stoicism masking the turmoil raging within. He cast furtive glances across the table, his gaze lingering on Lucaela, who sat beside her brother Lucerys, her expression a mask of serene composure.
Each glance only served to fuel the fire burning within him, the Alpha's hunger growing more insatiable with each passing moment. He longed to reach out and claim Lucaela, to mark her as his own and brand her with his scent—a symbol of their bond forged in the crucible of desire.
Not even his father’s desperate rambling were enough to distract him, not even the toasts, or even his sister Helaena dancing with Jace.
She was Aegon’s wife, but obviously the drunk cunt could only sit and stare as the bastard strong boy twirled her around in time with the music.
After his father had been escorted from the dining room, Aemond prayed for the night to come to a close, he had to get back to his chambers, his cock was throbbing with need, and he was sure the scent of his arousal was becoming more and more obvious by the second, due to the looks that Lucaela was giving him and the faint blush that dusted her cheeks.
Then the roasted pig was placed in front on him, and that bastard boy had the audacity to laugh at him.
His fist colliding loudly with the table, and he rose to his feet thanking the gods that his leather jerkin was long enough to hide the bulge in his breeches.
“Final tribute” said Aemond picking up his goblet “To the health of my niece and nephews-Lucaela, Jace and Luke-each of them handsome, wise and strong-“
“Aemond” warned Alicent.
“Come-let us drain our cups to these three strong-“
“-I dare you to say that again” challenged Jace.
“Why, it was only a compliment. Don’t you think yourself strong?” challenged Aemond, as Jace’s fist collided with the side of his face.
The dining room erupted into a cacophony of noise, Lucerys who had rose to defend his brother Jace had been slammed headfirst into the table, Lucaela had then slid her hands into Aegon’s silver hair and wrenched him away from her twin brother-and Jace had been shoved to the floor.
Aemond’s blood was growing hot as he watched Lucaela defending her brother, he didn’t give two shits about Luke, but it was the way in which the Omega had fiercely risen from her seat and thrown herself into the chaos.
The hard slap she delivered to Aegon’s pale cheek had the Alpha inside Aemond growling with delight.
But Jace had hauled himself of the floor and was charging towards Aemond, who braced himself ready to fight.
“Wait-wait-“ snarled Daemon, stepping in between the two.
“Go to your chambers-all of you go now” ordered Rhaenyra.
Aemond watched as Lucaela bowed her head to her mother and followed her brothers from the dining room.
As he watched her leave Aemond suddenly became very aware that Daemon was watching him with intrigue, following his gaze.
The older Alpha raised his non-existent eyebrows at Aemond who decided it was for the best to stand down, challenging Daemon wouldn’t do him any favours, not with Lucaela anyway.
So, he left the dining room, not bothering to deal with the aftermath of his actions as there was something else that demanded his attention.
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Aemond’s footsteps echoed softly as he made his way through the corridors of the Red Keep, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows along the stone walls, casting an eerie glow upon his determined features.
He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't succumb to the forbidden desires that tugged at his soul like a riptide dragging him under. But the scent of Lucaela lingered in his senses, a sweet intoxicating fragrance that called to him with an irresistible allure, driving him ever closer to her chambers.
As he reached the door to Lucaela's quarters, Aemond hesitated for a moment, his hand poised to knock. His mind raced with a thousand reasons why he should turn back, why he should resist the primal urges that threatened to consume him.
But then he caught another whiff of her scent, carried on the breeze like a whispered promise, and all rational thought fled from his mind. With a shaky breath, he rapped his knuckles against the door, the sound echoing through the silent corridor.
The door creaked open, revealing Lucaela standing on the threshold, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him.
Aemond's gaze locked with hers, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find the words to express the tempest of emotions raging within him. But before he could speak, the scent of Lucaela enveloped him like a tidal wave, washing away his doubts and fears in a flood of primal need.
“What do you want?” asked Lucaela.
“You know what I want-“ replied Aemond as he stepped inside the dimly lit chamber.
“No, I don’t-“
“-Sure, you do” said Aemond.
“You can’t want me-“ muttered Lucaela, lowering her gaze to the floor.
“Why not?” snarked Aemond.
“I thought I was a bastard-you said it yourself. Handsome, wise and strong”
“When it comes to you I was wrong, I should have said pretty and perfect for birthing my pups” growled Aemond as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single stride. He could feel the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, beckoning him closer with each passing second.
And then, without a word, he crushed his lips to hers in a searing kiss.
His Alpha roaring with delight, at the sweet taste of the Omega.
Breaking away from the kiss, Lucaela gasped for breath, her eyes meeting Aemond's with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. "We mustn't," she breathed, her voice trembling with restraint. "We should court properly, earn the blessing of the King and our family.”
Aemond's brows furrowed, a shadow passing over his features as he shook his head in disbelief. "You know as well as I do, Lucy," he murmured, his voice tinged with bitterness. "My mother and grandsire would never allow such a match to take place. They would sooner see us wed to strangers for political gain than grant their blessing to our union."
“Aemond” whimpered Lucaela as he reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
"You can feel it, can't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "The pull of my Alpha scent”
Lucaela's breath caught in her throat at his words, her heart pounding with a mixture of longing and apprehension. She wanted to deny it, to cling to the remnants of her resolve, but the undeniable truth hung heavy in the air between them.
"I-I shouldn't," she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she fought to resist the primal urges that threatened to consume her. "We mustn't give in to temptation, Aemond. We must honour our duty and our family."
But even as she spoke the words, Lucaela could feel the last vestiges of her resistance crumbling beneath the weight of Aemond's presence, his Alpha scent wrapping around her like a velvet cloak, suffusing her senses with a heady intoxication that left her dizzy with desire.
Aemond's lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You cannot deny the pull any longer, Issa dōna," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Our desires are too strong, too primal to be ignored” (My sweet).
With a soft gasp, Lucaela closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Aemond's in a searing kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.
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Lucaela had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.
“Issa dōna Omega” whispered Aemond (My sweet Omega).
Lucaela’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.
Lucaela bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.
“Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao issa dōna” growled Aemond (Let me hear you my sweet).
“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Lucaela.
Aemond pressed two fingers inside Lucaela, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake.
“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.
Lucaela arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.
Aemond crawled up Lucaela’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.
Lucaela blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.
“Calm yourself my little strong girl” murmured Aemond.
“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Lucaela.
“Relax and let Alpha take care of you”.
Almost as if he could read Lucaela’s mind, Aemond smiled and began peppering gentle kisses all over Lucaela’s face.
“You can take it. Ao istan vēttan syt issa” whispered Aemond as he began rubbing his hard cock along Lucaela’s wet folds (You were made for me).
Suddenly Aemond rolls his hips forward and the entire hard length of him is buried inside Lucaela.
“A-Aemond” shrieks Lucaela at the sting of her maidenhead being taken.
Aemond stills for a moment, almost as if he is savouring the feeling of Lucaela’s tight wet heat being wrapped around him.
After a few mintues, Lucaela begins to writh against him.
“M-Move please Alpha. I need you” begged Lucaela desperately.
Aemond rolls his hips gently at first, allowing Lucaela the time to adjust to the feeling of his cock moving back and forth inside her, but when his sweet Omega begins issuing pleas of ‘Harder and faster’ Aemond loses it and begins fucking Lucaela into the mattress.
Their hips pound together as Aemond thrusts hard and fast, his movements brutal and precise.
“Lucaela. My Omega” moans Aemond as his cock begins to thicken at the base.
“Yes. Yes. Oh, it’s feels so good. Alpha don’t stop. Fuck me harder. I can take it”
“Going to fill you up with my seed. I want to see you swollen with my pups” hisses Aemond.
“Yes. Alpha breed me. I want to grow round with your pup. I will give you as many pups as you desire” exclaimed Lucaela.
“Y-Your neck. I need too-Claim you” growls Aemond.
“Yes, Alpha claim me. Make me yours” begs Lucaela.
With a low growl of desire, Aemond tilts Lucaela's head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his hungry gaze.
His cock throbbing with anticipation,
Lucaela's breath hitched as she felt the heat of Aemond's lips brush against her skin, his touch igniting her blood. Then, she felt the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into her flesh, a mixture of pleasure and pain flooding her senses.
Aemond's Alpha scent enveloped her, swirling around her like a whirlwind, as Lucaela surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. With a gasp of ecstasy, she arched against him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt their bond solidifying, the mating bond that would bind them together for eternity.
But even as Aemond claimed her as his own, Lucaela's own Omega instincts surged to life, driving her to reciprocate the gesture. With a fierce determination, she bit down on Aemond's neck.
Whilst her teeth are not as sharp as Aemonds, they still manage to puncture his mating gland. Sealing Alpha and Omega together forever. Their bond snapping into place. Their hearts as one.
The blood from their bites running down their bodies, as they moved together. Her Alpha fucked her hard and fast, his hips pounding against hers. The sound of skin slapping together echoed around the chambers.
As Aemond gives one last thrust and forces his knot inside Lucaela, spilling rope after rope of his seed inside his Omega, which made Lucaela throw her own head back and scream, as she reached her peak, clenching around her Alpha’s pulsating cock.
It didn’t stop there, Aemond only needed a few moments of rest before growing hard inside of his Omega again.
As Lucaela’s legs relaxed and let go of her hold on Aemond, his knot had deflated enough to allow him to move backwards, and he raised himself to his knees between Lucaela’s legs.
The loss of her Alpha inside her made Lucaela whimper as the ache quickly returned. 
“Roll over” ordered Aemond. It was a command, an Alpha command, and Lucaela whimpered as she felt it take control of her body, she had to obey, she had to please her Alpha.
She was now on all fours in front of him, ready to be mounted again. Her waves of scent and slick made Aemond almost stagger. He pushed his cock into the whimpering Omega once more with shaky hands and proceeded to pound her even harder and quicker than before, snapping his hips against her while grunting loudly, driving needy moans out of Lucaela. 
Aemond was gripping her hips so hard that his nails were digging into her skin, leaving marks everywhere, the pain drove Lucaela wild with need and she needed to feel more of it.
Almost as if he could sense what she needed, Aemond reached forward and grabbed Lucaela’s hair, making her head shoot back. Lucaela cried out to her Alpha in pleasure, making Aemond growl.
His knot started to slowly push inside Lucaela, and she let out a feral cry as the knot made its way deeper and deeper inside of her.
It swelled up so much, it hurt, it hurt so good.
“A-Aemond-yes-yes-please” babbled Lucaela as she peaked, her slick dripping onto the sheets.
“I will have you dripping with my seed my sweet Omega. I can’t wait to see you swell with my pups, everyone will know your mine-“ moaned Aemond.
Aemond thrust one, two, three more times before growling once again, shooting his seed deep inside Lucaela, filling her up. He grunted out Lucaela’s name chasing the pleasure of his own peak. He then let out a deep, satisfied breath before collapsing onto his Omega.
Aemond moved his face to Lucaela’s neck again, and lovingly nuzzled her.
Lucaela laid trembling underneath him, his knot had swelled and locked together,
“ñuhon” muttered Aemond (Mine).
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In the depths of the night, shrouded in shadows cast by flickering torchlight, Lucaela made her way down to the skull of Balerion, the ancient relic looming over her like a silent sentinel of the past. She paused before the massive skull, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and resolve.
As she waited, Lucaela reached up to the fresh mating mark on her neck and grimaced at the dried blood lingering on her skin.
At the sound of footsteps, Lucaela took a deep breath and turned to face Daemon.
"Is it done?"
Lucaela nodded, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. "Yes," she replied, her words echoing softly in the cavernous chamber. "Aemond has claimed me as his mate. His seed has filled my womb."
A slow smile spread across Daemon's lips, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Well done," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the darkness.
“Thank you-father” whispered Lucaela.
"You must lay with him as many times as you can to ensure that you carry Aemond's pup," he said, his tone firm and commanding. "No Alpha would ever turn away from their own child and with Aemond on our side, your mother's path to the Iron Throne is clearer than ever."
"I-I understand," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper as she met Daemon's gaze with a mixture of resignation and determination.
Daemon nodded; his expression unreadable as he regarded her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "Good," he said, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the chamber. "With his pup in your womb, our position will be secure”.
“What of those who conspire against mother?” asked Lucaela.
“Otto Hightower isn’t the only treasonous cunt involved, soon the others will reveal themselves and when they do-justice will served” replied Daemon his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister.
“Perzys se ānogar” said Lucaela (Fire and Blood).
Daemon's eyes softened as he looked upon Lucaela, a sense of pride swelling within him like a flame dancing in the darkness. Of Rhaenyra's three children from her first marriage, Lucaela was his favourite—the embodiment of everything he believed a Targaryen should be.
"You have done well" he said, his voice carrying the weight of his admiration. "But now, it is time for you to return to your mate and get some rest. Thanks to you, the war will be won before it even begins”
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As Lucaela made her way back to her chambers, her mind drifted back to Daemon's plan.
Her presentation as an Omega had marked a turning point, her scent at its strongest—a heady concoction of sweetness and allure that had the power to captivate even the most stoic of unmated Alphas. It was a scent that could drive men to madness, igniting a primal hunger that could not be ignored.
Whispers had reached Dragonstone of Ottos plans to usurp the Iron Throne when Viserys passed and have Aegon crowned, and Daemon knew they had to play it smart at least for now and he had seen the potential of her power as an Omega and recognized the opportunity it presented.
Aemond and Vhagar were Otto’s biggest asset, and without them he was nothing.
So, Daemon had suggested that she deliberately place herself in front of Aemond, play coy and let her scent drive him wild with desire until he could resist her no longer.
Lucaela pushed open the door, the soft light of the moon casting a gentle glow across the room, illuminating the seed and blood-stained sheets that bore witness to their passionate union.
Aemond was still asleep, his features softened by the embrace of slumber, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
As Lucaela slipped beneath the covers and nestled against Aemond's side, his arms instinctively wrapping around her and pulling her close, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over her like a wave crashing against the shore.
And as she lay there in the darkness, wrapped in Aemond's embrace, Lucaela couldn't help but wonder if perhaps being mated to him wouldn't be so bad after all.
The fervour in which he had taken her to bed had been unlike anything she had expected, growing up the septa’s had always told her of a woman’s duty, that she existed for a man’s pleasure and not her own.
But Aemond had shown her that there was much pleasure to be had, and she couldn’t wait to experience more.
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