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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

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𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄!

Toji Fushiguro ft. Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader ft. Satoru Gojo

Summary: Satoru comes home early to surprise his sweet wife but his wife ends up surprising him. Not that he minds.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Cuckolding, Cheating, Oral Sex (m. and f. receiving), Face Fucking, Spitting, Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Hair Pulling, Use of Daddy, Spanking, Creampie, Praising, Sort of a mean Toji

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Satoru had a great idea. He works hard long hours, most of the time coming back home near midnight. He finds his sleepy wife waiting for him to go to bed. When she sees him, she finally goes to bed, and he joins her shortly after, hugging her. The only day that they spend some quality time together is on Sundays.

He assumes that you’re so lonely. So today he decided to leave early to surprise his wife. He comes home, and he immediately knows where to find his wife. He walks upstairs to the bedroom, and he imagines his wife, a big smile on her face as she sees her husband. But when he gets to the bedroom, the door is cracked and the scene is definitely the last thing he was imagining– He isn’t going to jump to conclusions.

Even when you’re looking up at some random man, sitting on your married bed. You’re smiling as the man tilts your head up, his hand under your chin. You're wearing your silk white robe, and your husband doubts that you’re wearing anything underneath. The man asks, “Lonely again, baby?”

“You know how he is, Toji. Always working.” You respond, your hands going to the buckle of his belt. You begin to unbuckle it as you tell him, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Toji responds, making you smile as you look up at him. He finishes unbuckling, letting his pants drop. Of course, he doesn’t wear any underwear. Satoru’s eyes almost widen when he sees how much thicker the man’s dick is, at least compared to Satoru’s. It makes him wonder if maybe that’s why you’re with another man tonight. Toji grabs his cock, stroking it a couple of times before he slaps the tip on your lips. He presses the tip against your lips until you open your mouth.

Satoru can’t watch this. He feels his stomach churn as his wife opens her mouth. Your tongue begins to circle around the tip of Toji’s cock. You’re looking up at Toji with adoring eyes as you lick the tip of his dick. Toji’s hand goes to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair.

Just as your mouth begins to wrap around his cock, taking as much as you can, his hand pushes your head, forcing you to take all of him in your mouth. Satoru is surprised that you take it, because you would never allow him to do such an act. You’re gagging on Toji’s cock, tears gathering up in your eyes and drool falling down your chin.

God, Satoru hates to admit how fucking hot it sounds. How hot it is. You don’t even fight to pull away. Toji begins to move his hips, and you so happily allow him. The man groans as he fucks your mouth, and Satoru can tell that there’s tears running down your face. And it’s confirmed when Toji’s free hand goes down to your face and wipes away your tears, “I don’t want you crying yet, baby.”

His balls smack against your chin with his every move, and Satoru can’t keep watching this scene, it’s making his stomach uncomfortable. But he can’t look away. His eyes are glued, watching as you take Toji’s cock in your mouth.

You’re watching as Toji is biting down on his lip, trying not to make a sound. Although you don’t get it since you’re alone. He finally groans when he comes into your mouth. He releases so much cum into your mouth, and when he lets go of your head, taking his cock out, some of it falls down to your chin. Toji’s thumb picks it up and he wipes it on your lips, “Don’t let my cum go to waste.”

“Sorry.” You manage to say before licking your lips. Toji smirks as he looks down at you. He praises you,

“Good girl.” He says before he begins to kneel on the floor. You’re undoing your robe, letting Toji view every inch of your body as he spreads your legs– And assuring Satoru that he was correct. You aren’t wearing anything underneath.

Toji’s tongue licks up your folds, a kitten lick to test the waters before he more confidently does so again. His tongue goes to your clit, and he begins to flick his tongue. Your hand runs through his hair, throwing your head back as he slowly starts off. As Toji’s fingers begin to gather your slick, Satoru has to adjust his pants because he feels uncomfortable.

His eyes can’t tear away as Toji inserts his fingers into your cunt, and when Satoru finally looks down, he realizes the erection in his pants. Satoru bites down his lip, his cheeks turning pink of embarrassment. He’s a fucking fool for getting turned on as another man eats out his wife. But God— You moan so sweetly when Toji inserts two fingers into your sweet cunt.

“Your fingers are so big, daddy.” You comment with a whiny voice. It takes Satoru back because you’ve never come close to using the nickname with him. He asked you to once, but you refused. But now you’re doing it for another man, and it’s so fucking hot. He hates how much he’s loving this.

Toji’s fingers curve just right so they brush against your sweet spot, filling you up with immense pleasure, as his tongue flicks your clit repeatedly. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re praising Toji, telling him how much of a great job he’s doing. Praises roll off your tongue, and Satoru almost feels jealous– Which is something that he should already be considering his wife seeks another man for pleasure.

You start to get louder, which makes Satoru assume that your orgasm is approaching. Toji feels it as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Toji looks up at you, watching as you submit to pleasure. You begin to announce, “Fuck, I’m gonna- Shit shit shit-”

And you come around Toji’s fingers. He flicks your clit a couple more times before he pulls away, leaving a gentle kiss. He stands up from the floor. His fingers are covered with your juices, and he brings them up to his lips. He rolls his tongue around them, licking them clean, before he grabs you by your throat and orders, “Open your mouth.”

“Why?” You ask, and it makes Toji furrow his eyebrows.

“I don’t like it when you ask questions. I told you to open your fucking mouth.” Toji orders, clearly irritated by his tone of voice. You open your mouth, and he brings his lips together, gathering saliva before he releases it into your mouth. And Satoru is sure that you’ll say something now. You’d never allow anyone to do that to you. He’s waiting for your reaction, but it’s not something he expects. He sees Toji pat your cheek to praise you, “Good girl. You know your place after all.”

“Yes, daddy.” You try to smile at him, batting your eyelashes.

“Get on all fours.” He tells you, and you do as he says, and while you’re getting on your hands and knees, Toji gets completely naked. And it’s gone too far, as if the actions from earlier hadn’t gone far enough. But Satoru can’t bring himself to barge into the room and stop it all. At least not with the erection that’s in his pants.

While Toji aligns his cock with the entrance of your cunt, Satoru unbuckles his pants. He can pretend to be mad but after he gets rid of the uncomfortable tent in his pants. He licks his hand before his hand goes into his briefs. Just as his hand wraps around his length, Toji plunges into your cunt. You loudly moan as his thick cock stretches you out. Toji’s hands go to your hips and he grips your skin, surely to leave marks, before he begins to thrust in and out of you.

Satoru begins to stroke his cock, matching the pace of Toji’s thrusts. The man can’t help but imagine as if his pathetic hand is your tight little pussy. He almost shuts his eyes to imagine it, but he just can’t tear his eyes off the sight. He’s never heard you moan so loud, at least not so early on.

“Fuck, daddy, it’s so good!” You moan, his cock filling you up just right and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Your back arches as your head presses against the mattress, muffling any noise that comes from your mouth. Toji begins to slap your ass as his eyes watch it jiggle with his every movement.

“You’re just a dirty whore, aren’t you?” Toji says as his hand strikes against your ass. Satoru never thought that something so hurtful to him could feel so good. He’s holding back on moaning, biting down on his lip as he fucks his fist. He’d do just about anything to be in Toji’s place right now, your pretty cunt wrapped around his cock as you loudly moan just how good he’s making you feel. “Just fucking any man that makes you feel good, huh?”

“Just you, daddy–” You respond, stumbling over your words. Drool falls from your mouth and to the bedsheets as Toji fucks you dumb. Satoru nearly comes when he hears you call Toji daddy again, but he has to control himself. He can’t come before Toji does, that’d just be pathetic. So he begins to edge himself.

Toji grabs a handful of your hair, and he begins to pull which makes your moans loud and clear. One of your hands goes under and you begin to play with your clit, making your orgasm approach faster. “What would your husband think of you? Watching you become a dumb– Stupid bitch as another man fucks you.”

“She’s so fucking hot.” Satoru whispers, soiling his briefs with his cum. He leans his head against the wall and takes a deep breath. Toji is making sure to leave markings on your body, to make your husband ask questions. It’s not like he cares enough about you, but he loves knowing he’s the cause of something bad happening. You don’t complain either. You don’t acknowledge his words as you say,

“Daddy, it’s so good!” He finally lets go of your hair, knowing that the whole neighborhood heard that you’re getting fucked. Your head goes back to pressing against the mattress. You stop playing with your clit, your hands gripping the silk sheets underneath as your orgasm takes over your body.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Toji praises as your walls begin to squeeze around him. Your toes are curling, and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body finally spasms, reaching your peak. Toji slaps your ass a couple of times, praising you for being so good and coming around his cock. God, Satoru would be praising you like a fool too if he were in Toji’s place.

Toji keeps rapidly thrusting in and out of your cunt, and the sound that comes from the place is so lewd. Toji is finally making some noise but it’s overshadowed by your moaning. “Your pussy is so fucking good, baby. Your husband is a fucking idiot.”

Toji’s thrusts become sloppy as he nears his release. His nails dig into your skin, nearly drawing blood from your flesh. He finally lets go as he comes. He throws his head back as his cum fills up with your cunt. And Satoru finally furrows his eyebrows, upset because you let another man come inside of you.

When Toji takes his cock out, his cum quickly spills out, but the man isn’t going to let it go to waste. He pushes his cum back in, and while he does so, Satoru fixes his pants. When Toji stops, you finally take a seat. You smile and look up at Toji.

You’re silent for a moment before you stand up, your hands running up his chest and landing on his shoulders before you peck his lips. Your mouth goes to his ear and you whisper, “Are you all done?”

“I’m not, baby.” Toji responds, his hands going down to grab your ass. Toji looks at the gap in the door, his eyes landing directly on Satoru. Toji smirks. “But this time let your perverted husband join.”

🏷 @cactustattoo @dearsunaa @mykyoon @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @galactict3a @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @tamaki-jiki @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @Kageyamaslittleroyal20 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas @witchofoe @sarcasticallydrowning @dilfs-lover @celi-xxmoon @sanzusblkgf @missyasma @lem-hhn @faahsung @z-sae @um-no-ok @huang-the-geek @itzxneema

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 months

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Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Last chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ Azriel’s pov is in this one. 🤍🫧

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Nyx’s pov:

He felt choked up as he flew over Velaris. They were far away from the crowded halls, yet Nyx still felt as if someone had their hands over his neck. It pressed deeply into his throat. He tried to breathe her in. His Sunny. The only good thing about his miserable existence. She was here. With him. In his arms. Holding onto him. He felt her heart beating. Her warm breath caressing the nape of his neck. It felt like a full-circle moment when he once again landed right in front of the lake cabin.

“You’re still shaking," Zofie muttered as Nyx carefully lowered her to the ground. Even the moon up above played in her favor. Making her skin look like porcelain. Her dark hair resembled the night sky Nyx had forgotten how to love. “I’m fine," he muttered, simply not dropping his eyes away from her.

Zofie stepped out of his reach. It was a logical move. There was no reason to hold onto one another. They weren’t in the sky anymore. She could very well stand on her own. But Nyx pulled her to him almost immediately. His fingers were itching to touch her.

"Nyx," she breathed when her cheek pressed against his chest once more. “Just a bit longer," he muttered, kissing the crown on her head and letting his lips linger there before adding, "Please." Zofie pulled back from him slightly. Just enough for her to look up at him, “You’re making me worried," she breathed. Her golden eyes pierced right through Nyx’s soul. He knew why it was strange. He hated physical touch. Too much smothering from his family had left him skittish of affection. But not with her. Never with her, even if he declined her at times.

“I just..." His words came out strangled, followed by a big gulp of air. “Are you having a panic attack?” Now she was pulling back, her tiny palms pressing against the left side of his chest. “No… I don’t know," Nyx admitted, running a clammy hand over his neck. Zofie looked at him for a heartbeat. A light frown settled permanent lines into her forehead. “You’re deep purple," she breathed, reaching for Nyx’s hands instantly, deep inky wains connecting them. “What?", Nyx managed to crock out before she started pulling him towards the cabin. His eyes lingered on their joined hands. It looked as if she was pulling the darkness out of him, and that didn’t sit right with him. The last thing Nyx wanted was to tarnish her with his demons. Yet he couldn’t seem to pull his hand out of her grasp. "Purple," Zofie muttered under her breath for what felt like a thousand times before she finally turned to face him, “What can I do?”. Her eyes were desperate as she searched through the cracks in Nyx’s mask.

He knew what the logical answer was. They would both benefit if they just sat there. If they didn’t get tangled up, pulling apart would be too painful. He knew that their parents would never approve, and this would just birth false hope that they could, after all, somehow be together. Yet he still mumbled a quiet, “Hold me.”

Zofie nodded as she went into the same room they had spent endless hours in. The bed was neatly made in the middle. The big windows give a clear view of the lake right in front of them. "Lay," she said, pushing Nyx towards the bed before bending to undo her heels. “This seems suggestive," he muttered, feeling pieces of his true self surfacing. "Nyx, you ass, lay down," she snickered, pushing at his chest. But he didn’t budge. He had promised her to appreciate the way she looked, so he let his eyes linger on her body and the way that expensive silk hugged all the right places. “Don’t get fucking ideas, you hear me?”, Zofie pointed a finger at him before hiking up her skirt as she climbed onto the mattress. Nyx couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Mother above had crafted this girl in front of him. She couldn’t possibly be of the same breed as them all. No. Maybe, just like YN, she was part angel blood. Or maybe she was just an angel. Pure angel. And in that moment, Nyx couldn’t find a single reason why someone like her would want any piece of him. She straddled him with ease, and Nyx’s hands instantly reached for her hips. He was desperate to let his fingers slip beneath the material of her dress, but he held himself back. Especially since Zofie stiffened slightly at his touch, but with one final glance, she plopped her whole body right on top of his. Nyx let out a surprised huff. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Putting pressure on your chest," she said as if it was the most self-explanatory thing to do. “For?” Nyx questioned, not that he was complaining. Zofie shifted slightly, and so did Nyx, angling his head to look down at her. “What happened to your eye?”, she muttered, her delicate fingers reaching out to touch a faint bruise on his face. It was beyond him how she still saw it because he was convinced that it had almost fully faded. No one had mentioned it when he returned home from the camps.

“Just a fight," Nyx shrugged slightly. “Have you been picking fights?”, Zofie glared at him with a slight shake of her head. “You left me unsupervised," he mused, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. “You seem of age to take care of yourself, no?”, her fingers continued to run soothing brushes beneath his eye. And then it dawned on him: “You’re distancing me," he huffed, making her smile ever so slightly. “Is it working?”, she asked innocently. His smart, smart girl. Leave it to her to know exactly what he needed.

“God, you’re pretty," Nyx breathed out after a moment of silence. "Stop," she growled, turning to hide her face in his chest, but Nyx was quick enough to catch her chin. “No, you need to know that." His gaze caught hers, and he was ready to swear that he was never going to look away. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to your father. I had no right, and you need to know how much I've regretted it ever since." The words fell out one after another. He had run over and over again in his head every single day they had been apart. "Nyx," Zofie muttered tenderly.

Nyx simply shook his head and said, “You trusted me, and I just went and spoiled it all." He felt his chest tighten with panic once more. "Nyx shut up," she huffed, cupping his cheek. “I’m not mad at you anymore," she promised. “You should be, and I deserve to be miserable," he reasoned back, but now it was her time to shake her head, “Don’t say that; never say that.”

“I missed you so much, fuck Sunny," Nyx muttered, feeling his eyes filling up with tears. His body was singing now that she was right here with him. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”, he questioned her, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Yeah, my heart has been aching ever since we parted," Zofie muttered, biting her lip to prevent her chin from wobbling. “Can I hold you through the night?”, Nyx blurted out, making Zofie let out a surprised gasp. “You’re supposed to hate cuddling, remember?”, she threw his own words back at him with a smirk. Nyx traced his fingers over her bottom lip, “Not with you, never with you." She inhaled shakily before nodding her head and saying, “Then yes, hold me through the night."

Azriel’s pov:

It was his first outing in weeks, and to say that he hated this party would have been an understatement. You always made it better. Filling in all the empty spaces in conversations that Azriel didn’t want to hold. Now you were back home with your daughter, and he was stuck here. How was that fair? His senses were still too sharp. That needs to protect what was only his running thickly through his blood. Until his eyes landed on the young man's, true, strong soldier’s stance. A smile tugged at Azriel’s lips.

“The uniform suits you, son," he breathed, clasping his oldest on the shoulder. Axel’s stance eased as he dropped all formalities, “I must honor our family.” And quite frankly, that’s all Axel has been doing. Azriel had told him many times that he didn’t have to prove himself to him. Azriel didn’t need titles. But Axel had stomped his foot on all that. He had been desperate to go foot-to-foot with Azriel. “You could be out there being a professional singer, and I still would be proud of you," Azriel reassured him. “Now that you mentioned it...", Axel smirked at his father, who too couldn’t help an honest chuckle.

“You’ve seen Zo?”, and it’s like all the blood had left him. His skin growing slightly greenish. “About that...", Axel sighed with a nervous laugh. “She’s with Nyx, isn’t she?", Azriel folded his arms over his chest. “Papa, you know...", Axel cut in, but Azriel shook his head. “I’m not going to say anything. Your mother said I need to get my shit together." And you did. Had sat him down for a long conversation. The thing was that Azriel didn’t hate or dislike Nyx. He was a smart young man. It was the letting go of Zofie that frightened him. The fact that she wouldn’t need him for comfort anymore. That she would find her peace within someone else. And he knew now, well after a couple of smacks on the head from you, that he was selfish in the way he kept dragging her back to him.

“He’s been missable, you know," Axel sighed, looking over the crowd. “Over what?”, Azriel asked. Only a handful of family members got through the walls the young prince had built. Azriel wasn’t a stranger to Rhys’s worried face when he would drift off mid-conversation these days, no doubt troubled by the fact that his blood and flesh was guarded away from him.

“Well, from what I gathered, Zo told him that they couldn’t be friends anymore, and Nyx practically lost all will to live." Old wounds cracked deep with Azriel’s chest. He knew that feeling all too well. You had been his light in the never-ending darkness. He had given up on joy and the future. But then in walked you.

“I think he likes her, like really likes her," Axel mused, turning towards his father. Azriel ran a hand over his stubble. “You probably think that I’m a monster for reacting the way I did." He had seen disapproval in Axel’s eyes as they all listened to her cry. Cry over the things Azriel has done. “No, I thought about bashing his nose in when I first realized that my best friend had feelings for my sister." Axel shrugged, earning a snicker from Azriel.

“So what changed?”, he asked quietly. Axel stayed silent for a heartbeat, “I think they are vital for one another. Zofie never has flare-ups when she’s with him, and Nyx... I think she pulls him out of the depths of his misery." Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold a straight face. He had deep conversations with Axel before. On many topics. Love had been the only thing Azriel had held back from discussing. Even after a handful of years in a happy marriage, he did not feel confident enough to share what he knew.

“You’re a good friend, Axel, a good young man." Azriel patted Axel’s cheek before flicking his nose playfully. “I learned from the best now, didn’t I?, Axel said proudly. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. Like it always did when he saw his kids looking up at him with nothing other than love. “Don’t; if I start tearing up in front of all of the generals, I will personally put you on bathroom duty," Azriel warned playfully as Axel threw him a challenging grin before nudging his father’s shoulder and saying, "I love you, Dad." Azriel put the boy in a headlock, ruffling his hair. “I love you too, Axel. Always will”.

As he pulled back, he saw something different glistening in Axel’s eyes. Not to mention that his attention was somewhere completely different. “How did you know that you were in love?”, Axel muttered. Azriel followed his gaze. A light smile tugged at his lips as he caught a girl in a gray robe hiding behind a pillar. “Nothing made sense without your mom, and for the first time, I felt as if I could show my deepest scars and the person in front of me wouldn’t run." It was the most truthful he had ever been when it came to love. Axel turned his attention back to his father; no doubt the words had stuck him deep. “It felt like coming home, Ax," Azriel muttered, watching the way little puzzle pieces fell into place for his oldest. Axel gave him a strong nod before ushering deeper into the crowd.

Zofie’s pov:

The morning sun filled the room. Warm rays of sunshine tickled the exposed skin on her back. Even with Nyx’s hand wrapped tightly over her back and providing heat to her through the night, Zofie still smiled at the feeling of the sun hitting her skin. They hadn’t talked much last night. Instead, stealing touches in the dark. Both felt the courage the moon had provided.

And now, with an early morning above them, she was watching him sleep. Staying as quiet as the mouse. Not daring to reach out and brush away his messy hair from his face. Not until the urge got too strong. She was careful. Just the moment her fingers touched his forehead, Zofie couldn’t help but frown. It was warm. Way too warm than usual. Had he fallen ill? Was it because she had stayed too close to him through the night?

Turning Zofie sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. The worry was simmering inside her. She reached out once more. Hoping to carefully wake him up, she let her fingers brush over his warm face. Nyx’s eyes blinked open slowly, and the moment his purple orbs looked straight at her, something deep within her cracked. Cracked so loudly that, for a second, her hearing went out. She had pulled her palm away in hopes of covering her ears, only to freeze at the sight of her palm.

No. There was no way. This had to be a mistake. Maybe she too had fallen ill, considering that it felt like her own body was on fire now. “What is it?”, Nyx’s husky voice filled her senses. She watched as yellow, shimmering dust fell from his cheek. From where her palm had rested only moments ago. "Nothing," Zofie blurted out, trying to smile through the panic within her.

Nyx rolled over, his hands reaching out for her once more. “You’re too far away," he grumbled. “I’m sitting right beside you, Nyx," her voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t catch it as he snuggled deeper into her thigh. “You’re too far away," his fingers dug into her skin, “I want to be under your skin; be a part of you.”

Zofie felt the heat of his skin. A light frown ran down her face as she pulled away. He didn’t usually talk like that. Scrambling to get out of bed, she let her bare feet hit the wooden floor. Nyx let out an annoyed grumble, pulling his head up from the mattress. She caught a glimpse of his eyes then. No longer purple. No. The pupils were so dialed that they looked almost black. Wild eyes. Despite eyes. "Nyx," she breathed. “Get into bed," he muttered, sitting up.

“I don’t want to. We should go back," and it’s like she unleashed something deep within him. The thought of others unsettled something deep within him. He clenched his jaw before the back of his palms dug into his eyes. Something deep within her urged her to run. To hide, at least. She used to think that she heard her mother and dad warning her in her head. It had stopped at a certain age, but now it felt the same. So she slowly itched towards the door.

“Don’t even think about it, Zof," Nyx muttered, his voice raspy. “Don’t run, because I will chase you, and I don’t know what I will do." He let out a painful groan, making Zofie desperately want to reach out to him. “What are you feeling?”, she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Nyx laughed slightly, “You, I feel you." And then his Illyrian wings flustered behind him. Zofie nearly collapsed against the door. He always warned her before he shifted.

“You’ve been away from me for too long," Nyx breathed, moving to get out of bed. Her heart skipped a beat. Run. A voice rang out in her head, crippling her for a second before she turned back, quickly unlocking the door as she broke into a sprint. "Zofie," a warning growl rang out behind her. She could feel him. Feel the mix of emotions bubbling within him. He was practically breathing against her neck. There was no way she could outrun him. He was much faster and stronger. And driven by the force, she would no doubt lose the battle to.

Her panicked mind raced as she ran in zigzags, dodging Nyx’s hands in the shelter of trees. “Zofie, come on," he pleaded, but she didn’t even look back. She needed to get out. Get to her dad. He would know what to do. He would know what was happening. A gasp left her lips when she felt Nyx’s warm fingers lacing against her upper arm. She was screaming for a second before everything suddenly shifted, and she fell back into the pile of something soft. Zofie reached out around her blindly. Leaves. Her heart was hammering in her throat. She waited for Nyx to grab her. Waited to feel the heat from him. But nothing came. Nothing changed.

“What are you doing here?”, a voice startled her, making Zofie’s eyes fly open. Her blood ran cold for the second time that morning. Until a second figure emerged from behind the frame towering over her. “Zofie?”, a confused face glanced down at her no doubt disheveled frame. “Uncle Luci," she muttered right as the male in front of her crouched down to wrap his jacket over her shoulders.

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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404

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averyangrypossum · 2 months

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Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

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dejwrites · 2 years

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─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ back seat⠀ 〳 ⠀ s.shinazugawa ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) jealous boyfriend sanemi + flirt for fun girlfriend + the back seat of sanemi's car = ???

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reading discretion is advised: told in third pov, her/she pronouns, female reader, written with black reader in mind, established relationship (reader and sanemi are in a relationship), slight toxic relationship, profanity, they do a lot of shit talking in this at each other, fingering, clit play, neck kisses, riding, car sex, breeding kink, babytrapping if you squint and got bad eyes, jealous!sanemi, modern au, uzui tengen is mentioned, minors dni pls !

you can also read it here on ao3.

SANEMI WASN’T PARTICULARLY THE TYPE TO CAUSE PROBLEMS IN A CLUB. Especially one that was owned by a close friend of his. But the way his eyes twitched in annoyance seeing his girlfriend [Y/N] shamelessly flirt at the bar. Embarrassing not only herself but also him and their relationship. The white-haired male was seeing red like a bull in a bull-riding contest that wanted the annoying rider to get off their back immediately. His whole toned body felt like he was running a fever due to how upset he was. He had never collected his girlfriend up so quickly when they went out. He still remembered how the palm of his hand still felt hot from the way he held her forearm while he dragged her away practically scolding her. The man she once was flirting with was knocked out cold as blood was gushing out his fractured nose and people crowded around him for sympathy.

He was fed up with her behavior. The ride home was filled with harsh words towards each other before [Y/N]’s texting away on her iPhone. Most likely informing her friends about the heated argument the two of them shared. An annoyed sigh escaped Sanemi’s lips as his purple hues stared ahead on the highway. No cars surrounding them due to it being past many people’s bedtimes. The car suddenly stopped in the middle of the highway and the tires screeched dangerously when Sanemi pressed down on the brakes. [Y/N]’s lips parted to yell out some curse word at her boyfriend, but his words cut her off abruptly.

“Climb in the back,” Sanemi says, his fingers starting to undo his seat belt.

“What? You could have caused a fuckin’ car accident. You’re insane.” [Y/N] spat as she locked her phone to glare at him. Her attitude was on ten from the moment he embarrassed her in front of so many people in Uzui Tengen’s nightclub.

“Get in the back, Y/N!”

The assertiveness in Sanemi’s tone caused the young woman's lips to quiver. He never raised his voice at her even when he was upset or when they had an argument. However, his tone did cause her to stare at him in such an obedient manner. She was taken aback by his demanding tone, her eyes staring around their surroundings on the empty highway. Despite the highway being a complete ghost town and the windows to the car being completely tinted, [Y/N] still thought it was risky to do this. Especially considering who Sanemi was.

“If we get caught, I’m whipping your ass because this shit could have waited until we got home,” [Y/N] uttered as she leaned back into her seat to tug off the heels she wore.

“Yeah..yeah, your ass is still about to climb in the back though,” Sanemi spat back at her.

“I hate you,” The woman uttered as she’s climbing into the backseat of the car.

Sanemi lets out a chuckle before he presses the button for the blinkers to turn on for his car. If someone did drive by, he was hoping they would assume that he just was having car trouble. He climbs out of the car and the crisp nightly air of Japan slaps him harshly before he’s climbing into the back seat of the door and closes the door behind him. “Your ass is too big for this, you know?” [Y/N] points out.

“Oh shut up and come here,” Sanemi yanks her on his lap in a quick motion. Now facing him with their lips barely touching as her thighs took comfort on each side of him. “What? Don’t have anything witty to say?” He questioned as his hands were going up the olive green colored dress to give her ass a slight squeeze.

[Y/N] indeed didn’t have anything to say. It was as if her tongue got snatched out of her mouth once his hands fondled a body part of hers. Her innocent eyes stared into his searching for something to say, but the tension that filled the air caused her mind and body to want something else. She leaned in for a kiss but Sanemi leaned out of it. His tongue clicked at his teeth as his lips formed a devious smirk. “Now, why should I kiss you when you were just flirting with another guy?” He asked as his hands pushed her dress up around her waist.

[Y/N] swallowed the large lump that formed inside her throat. Her lips parted to answer his question, but nothing came out. She wasn’t particularly sure why she did it. Perhaps it was just the excitement of seeing Sanemi jealous. Or maybe it just was in her nature to flirt. She wasn’t quite sure. Her thoughts were interrupted by the harsh slap on her round ass, which she let out a hiss at the sudden spanking.

“Answer my question.” Sanemi firmly said as his right hand massaged the flesh he recently slapped at.

“I don’t know.” [Y/N] stuttered out. Her teeth nibbled at her lower lip as she stared at him. She could feel herself getting hot which was odd considering that temperatures were dropping in Japan.

“You do know.” Sanemi simply said.

Once again his girlfriend grew quiet before she felt Sanemi rub her cunt through the lace thong she wore. Coughing up a low whimper as her hands gripped at his shoulders at the sudden action, [Y/N] squirmed at Sanemi’s touch. “You get turned on seeing me all riled up, huh?” He asked.

[Y/N] lets out a shaky breath, his fingers pressing even harder on her folds through her panties even though she could feel his hardened bulge right under her, she knew that he was going to torture her first. “No.” She answered.

“No?” Sanemi questioned while his eyebrows furrowed together.

“What if I was flirting with him for the fun of it?” [Y/N] questioned, hands combed through her braids before she tilted her head at him innocently. “Just to see if I still got it.” She adds with a giggle.

“If you still got it?” Sanemi asked. His hands climbed inside the lace fabric she wore, indulging in the wetness in between her thighs. The sudden gasp from her was like music to his ears because he knew her body so well that after that gasp she turned into a moaning music box just for him. “You’re soakin’ wet baby, you get turned on seeing me beat the living shit out of any guy that looks at you.”

The pad of Sanemi’s index and middle finger rubbed at her clit and he leaned forward to place sloppy kisses on her exposed neck. “It’s true, right? You liked seeing me break that guy’s nose.” He uttered against her brown skin. With each word that tumbled out the eldest Shinazugawa's lips, his fingers were rubbing in a circular motion just like his favorite girl liked.

[Y/N]’s moans bounced off the windows of Sanemi’s car as her manicured nails dug at his shoulders. Her hips moved slightly for more friction upon her clit which was currently getting plenty of attention from Sanemi’s fingers. “If you answer the question, then I’ll give you what you want,” Sanemi said, once his lips detached from her neck. She could feel the dark-colored hickey forming on her neck, kissing at her teeth in annoyance. He knew how much she hated those things and he still took it upon himself to mark her as if she were his forever.

“Stop being so stubborn,” Sanemi uttered as he pressed a quick peck on his girlfriend’s gasping lips.

“Fine,” [Y/N] admitted through breathless moans. “I like seeing you riled up like that.” She adds. “Just put it in already Sanemi,” She says through moans before she litters his face with kisses.

“See, was it that hard?” Sanemi questioned as he lifted her slightly off his lap to undo his pants. His cock sprang out effortlessly once he tugged the black Calvin Klein briefs down a bit. “Go ahead and sit on it,” He cooed. “That is if you can take it.”

[Y/N]’s pressing a firm kiss on Sanemi’s lip. Her teeth grazed upon his lower lip just to taste the alcohol he sipped on within the night. He lets out a hiss once he feels her attempt to sink onto his hardened cock. Her mouth gaped open at the sudden stretch of feeling Sanemi’s cock inside her. “I told you,” Sanemi said through gritted teeth.

His large hands grasped at her waist and he leaned forward placing soft kisses on her neck. The scent of perfume lingering up his nostrils drove him insane as he’s helping her sink further on his cock. Her wetness coated it with ease once Sanemi took control. A low whimper fled out [Y/N]’s mouth and Sanemi couldn’t help but chuckle, his free hand cupping her face to get her to look at him. “You just needed a lil help, that’s all,” Sanemi mumbled.

It was a beautiful sight of seeing [Y/N] bounce on his lap in such an erotic manner. Breathless moans bounced off the tinted windows, stolen kisses were exchanged between the two, and of course [Y/N]’s head constantly hitting the top of the car. Sanemi's hands didn’t let [Y/N]’s waist go as he bounced her on his cock, Sanemi’s head fell back uttering strings of profanity words to respond to the moans from her mouth. It was such an odd feeling that the two could cough up little words of praise when only they were having sex after a disagreement. The temporary heated moment was boiling down to the cunning moment of the two hitting their much-needed climax.

“Shit, I’m about to cum,” Sanemi uttered. His head fell back in complete bliss while he could feel his balls grow heavy. “I’m not pullin’ out either,” He leans up to place a heated kiss on [Y/N]’s lips.

“Please don’t,” [Y/N] says through the kiss.

That’s all it took for Sanemi to come undone. His strokes were slow and sensual as he filled [Y/N] up with his cum. The hold he had on her was tighter and his whines were as high as ever. The couple intertwined with each other so well as they were coming down from the pleasurable feeling of cumming together—that they didn’t even notice the honking of car horns that sped by that. Both of them were too fucked out to move a muscle as their exhausted sweat-coated bodies embraced each other.

[Y/N]’s body went limp when she reached her climax, her head falling over on Sanemi’s chest while her legs felt like a fresh bowl of Jell-O right below her. A sheet of sweat covered her body, her hair sweated out, and she was positive Sanemi’s cum got on the olive green dress she wore. Her eyelids were half-closed as she was trying to regain her strength to climb back into the passenger seat so they could go home.

“I hate you.” She muttered tiredly.

“I love you too, [Y/N],” Sanemi responded as he placed a kiss on top of her head.

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── tags: @yooniluvbot444 @pharaohanubis0 @canthebest1 @darylthekidd @cybervei @whatdidhesayyyy @whore4mikey @lovelymiraix @stunnababyyabyyy @sobbing-bunny @eiflawriting @everstoneluna @xeisic @mxmispluto @hellminx @mikimush @toji-dabi-wife @caribbeanwifey19 @ajaints @mylovelykuromi @kentovana

#kny x reader #kny smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi shinazugawa smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #anime x reader #anime smut #black reader #x black reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi smut

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sleeplessdreamer123 · 9 months

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Fanfic Idea! (Could be lucemond, where Daemon long prepared for the betrayal of the greens and urged his children to make alliances of their own, and Lucerys' anger has reached his endpoint)

Lucerys is pissed. He is angered, he is tired, his sorrow for the loss of his sister and the rage he felt for her undue death was what made him storm through the Baratheon home. He already knew his uncle was there. He saw the decaying dragon before he even got to land.

He knew him being there wouldn't do anything. His grandmother already told him how different Borros was to his father, but he had to at least pretend to try, for his mother. So there he was, dripping wet from the storm, hate and anger in his eyes, but a smooth, calm face, as to not give the people more reasons to look down on him. He deigned to smile at the girls, they were his kin, after all, and someone who he had been sending letters to ever since they all met, a secret from Borros, lest he tries to force one of his girls to marry him. They, in turn, smiled back.

He didn't bother looking at his uncle Aemond, barely acknowledged his jibe. He knew being ignored would piss him off more than any answer he would ever give, and that was more than enough of an incentive to pretend he was nothing more than passing wind from the storm, loud enough to howl, but something easily ignorable. He simply came to deliver the letter. He already knows that man wouldn't budge, had already planned to marry one of his girls to Aemond, or whoever the greens were willing to sacrifice. To him, Borros was already a traitor and an oathbreaker, and him being there was just a farce.

When the obvious refusal from Borros came, coupled with a few insults that made Lucerys momentarily enjoy a vision of just ordering Arrax to enter the hall and fry him before his courtiers, he nodded, and told him he would take his message to the queen, before turning around, his head held high. He nodded once more to the girls, and they knew. It was time to accelerate the plan. Borros is to die as soon as Aemond leaves. He will drink his ale, swallow his meat. The story would be that he saw the ghost of his father, angered by Borros for making him, making his house, bear the name oathbreaker, before forcefully taking his son's soul, leaving behind his frightened body as a warning. That way, it would be seen as a horrible omen, Aemond would only find out once he reached King's Landing, and would be too late to return.

In reality, Floris is to drop a special little medicine in her father's drink, one made by Alys, that causes people to have frightful illusions based on things they have been thinking about. Eventually, they becomes so stressed from fright, they started trying to get away from whatever apparitions their mind created, and finally, die from their heart giving out. He has already made sure the main thing on that man's mind would be his father's vow to his mother, from the letter. If things go as planned, (and he ensured it will, seeing as he gave a stronger mix to Floris) the eldest, Cassandra, is to be the new lady Baratheon in his place, and he knows she would support them. The greens would call them traitors, oathbreakers, but then again, Cassandra can claim she was undoing her father's oathbreaking by following her grandfather's vows, so his soul can rest at last. They can call for foul play, but could they when the man dies right in front of all his men, loyal or otherwise, watching him run from someone who isn't there, watching him scream for his father to not hurt him, before succumbing to his death, as if Lord Boremund snatched his soul from his body to ensure he never breaks another oath?

He wonders if any powerful house would try to side with the greens with the threat of their previous heads coming to haunt them to their death for oathbreaking. He thinks not, as the people of Westeros seems to hold great importance to the words of those long dead. If they do, well.... he has already made quite a lot of connections. It wouldn't be hard to ensure someone's predecessor would visit them to give a "stern warning".

Before he could leave the place and lead poor, wet Arrax out of the Storms, Aemond decided to order him to wait, to claim an apparent "debt". Lucerys was just going to ignore him, but his anger filled him. They were already stealing his mother's throne, and their own inheritances, simply because their mother wasn't a man. They have already taken their mother's chance to say goodbye to their grandfather, not even allowing her to burn his pyre. They have already killed his sister, who they didn't even allow to breathe. If there was anyone here that had the right to demand for someone to pay a debt, it was him, his family. Not Aemond.

And he will get revenge. Just not now. But he will not allow Aemond the chance to call him a coward. Instead of facing Aemond, he looked back to the soon-to-be-deceased Lord Borros.

"My Lord, I know it isn't my place to tell you how to run your house, but I do strongly suggest you close your windows and doors."

There was confusion in the crowd, even Aemond looked momentarily confused at his statement.

"The howling of this storm is quite strange. The wind just now sounded like it was trying to say something."

With the people realizing what he was implying, and his uncle's face going red, (with embarrasement or anger, who knows, who even cares?) he walked away calmly as the guards prevented Aemond from chasing him, his screams for his eye ignored once more. Lucerys, after all, has more pressing matters to attend. He is to fly to a cave one of the girls secretly found. There he would wait out the storm, wait out the shocking death of Borros, before "flying back" to Storm's End due to a "premonition" of sorts, and return home with the the Baratheon alliance in his pocket.

------------

Plotholes? Yes. Why? Because tired, can't think much, school sucking the life out of me.

#lucemond #aemond x lucerys #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #lucerys x aemond #aemond one eye #if lucerys is tired of everyone's shit #and aemond is ignored over and over again

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brabblesblog · 4 months

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Ch 9: The king hath brought me into his chambers: we will remember thy love more than wine.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

With the party over, Ban and Astarion share the rest of the night together. Important conversations are had.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

The party had ended a little while ago. The remainder had gone by quickly, with Astarion refusing to bring her anywhere near Vel and his spawn. She had fulfilled her usual end of soirée role, standing by the door and seeing the guests out, but the Ascendant had made sure to stand by her as Vel and his retinue left. He’d become particularly protective once he’d realized his focus had faltered during their tryst and all of his summons had been returned to the ether. Thankfully, there had been no further incidents, and he’d relaxed somewhat once the doors had closed behind the last of the guests.

Writing the letter to Gale was hard. Ban frowned, quill in hand. She wanted to slam her face on the table and be done with it.

Said Ascendant was now slipping out of his suit, leaving it a crumpled mess on the floor. Ban winced a bit at the sight. She had always hated him leaving his clothes everywhere, especially when they were always ridiculously expensive.

“A letter?” He quirked an eyebrow, amused. He wasn’t really sure what she was doing, and curiosity won out. Leaning forward, he saw Gale’s name written on the top line.

His expression darkened. “Gale? Really?” He pushed on before he could stop himself. “I came inside you mere hours ago, and you’re already thinking about another man?”

Stop lashing out, you fool. You’ll ruin everything. But he couldn’t help it.

Ban sighed. “I’m actually letting him down, if you must know.” He opened his mouth to respond but she continued, wanting to get her words out before he said something that would escalate the situation. “Had you asked me nicely, I would have told you that right away.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, then his mouth snapped shut. He moved behind her instead, standing at her back. His hands gently worked on her braids, undoing them one by one, a routine he’d always maintained after every event they’d attended. It had usually been a prelude to sex, but tonight, he did it as a nonverbal gesture of apology, which was all his pride would allow.

With her hair free and loose, he gathered it up, draping the ebony locks forward, enjoying the way the silken lengths cascaded over her collarbone. He leaned down, affectionately biting the swell of her shoulder.

“Would you care to join me for a bath, pet?” he whispered into her ear.

She reached back, finding the back of his head and scratching his scalp. “Sure. If you stop calling me pet, at least in private.” Ban understood all too well the need to keep up appearances in the presence of others.

Astarion stopped mouthing at her neck. “Done.” In truth, he hadn’t considered what such nicknames implied. It had begun the moment he’d ascended, his burgeoning ego making it seem all too natural that she’d be fine with it. After all, wasn’t it cute, being someone’s pet? He didn’t think about the deeper implications of it; she didn’t want to be called that, and it was an easy request to grant. That was all there was to it.

He straightened up to undo the clasps of her dress, letting them fall over her shoulders, exposing her small, firm breasts. The sight sent a shiver of arousal through him, but he didn't act on it.

“Let’s bathe together, and then we can retire to our bed,” he said, elated that she’d decided to sleep over. She stood, letting her dress fall to the floor, but unlike him she picked it up.

Ban headed over to his pile of clothes, gathering them up as well, carrying everything to a basket she used to hold sullied clothes for the servants to wash the next day.

That done, she headed for the bathroom, where Astarion already had a bath prepared. The strong smell of lavender wafted towards her, and Astarion smirked as he lowered himself into the tub.

“Join me, lover,” he purred, adoring the sight of Ban climbing into the tub and settling in front of him.

Astarion gestured and she leaned back to let him wet her hair. Reaching for the shampoo, he dispensed some onto his palm and lathered it up, beginning to massage it in with a tenderness bordering on reverence.

“I can have you sent over to the Elfsong tomorrow with a servant to help you gather your things.”

Ban raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m moving back?”

She leaned back into his touch, but his hands stilled mid-scrub at her words.

“I thought-“

“Only tonight. I said I’m willing to try, not that we’re already there.”

The hands in her soapy hair tightened for the briefest of moments, then loosened and resumed their ministrations, scrubbing the shampoo into her scalp.

“I suppose I misunderstood the terms of what trying meant.” The edge in his voice was back, haughty and unwavering.

She barked out a humorless laugh. “Did you think one or two good days and a good fuck was enough?”

His hands kept working as he considered this. The silence stretched, and Ban could almost hear him trying to figure out the right response. Eventually, he murmured a quick “Tilt your head back, love,” and began to rinse the shampoo out.

Finally, he answered, “I knew it wouldn’t be enough. But for a moment I had hoped it was.” A foolish thought, he was aware. “Are you worried you won’t be able to leave the palace again if you move back?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately. “I have wards against you and your summons. But against your staff? No.” Before, the belief that she was his spawn had kept her in line. But that ruse was gone.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Astarion gritted out. “I want you to do whatever it is you want.” That second bit was harder to spit out, but he needed to say it. It needed to be true, or she’d inevitably abandon him again. He finished rinsing her hair, picking up the scented soap next. Draping her hair over her shoulder, he proceeded with washing her back.

“Then why did you lie about me being a spawn?”

Shit. He wanted to move past all this. Why couldn’t they do that?

“I did say you would have a different experience than a spawn, love.” A half-truth.

“But you also never told me what I was.”

Astarion felt bile rise in his throat, a mixture of fear and anger bubbling in his chest. He finished scrubbing her back, turning her to face him, beginning on her front. As he soaped her chest he cupped a breast, then met her gaze.

There were a lot of things he could say here. That he had hinted at the truth, when he’d told her he’d given her a drop of his blood. That she’d been allowed, even encouraged, to bite him was another hint. He could say he hadn’t even been sure if the ritual had worked. He’d given her less of his blood than was usual, hoping to circumvent the danger of madness inherent to the ritual of turning her into a bride.

None of these were what she was looking for. He gathered what little courage the Ascendant had left, and opened his mouth.

“I figured you would leave me were you to find out the truth. And was I wrong? You did leave me. You left me passed out in a cup of wine, left me like I was just a used up plaything you no longer wanted.”

At his core, that was what Astarion feared most - that he was still a toy. Something to be enjoyed and then discarded once his usefulness had run out. For a time, Ban had worn down fear, and he had started believing in their love. But the moment he had ascended she had turned cold, as though she refused to accept who he had become, and wasn’t willing to try to. As if the moment he’d displeased her, she had punished him by withdrawing her affection.

Then that old fear had come roaring back, and he had needed to ensure she didn’t leave.

He looked down at the breast cradled in his palm, absently swiping a thumb over her nipple.

“Was this all I was good for? To be your sweet, kind Astarion? The Astarion who listened to your every word, who walked a step behind you? The one who needed your help, who stroked your ego, who gave you every pleasure you desired, who needed saving?”

He released her breast, returning to soaping her arm. His eyes didn’t meet hers.

“The moment I wasn’t that, the moment I was free - strong, confident - the moment I was no longer afraid, Ban, you changed.”

He remembered that invisible barrier between them in the last days of fighting the Absolute. He remembered bedding her every single night after the ascension, desperately trying to use what he knew best to regain what was slipping away, even though he hadn’t been exactly sure what it was. He’d finally been able to make love to her without being haunted by the horrors of his past, something he’d wanted so desperately for them to revel in together, yet each time, he’d felt her growing more and more distant. He had buried himself in discovering his newfound powers instead of dwelling too much on that distance - that cooling in their relationship, deciding it was a problem that was best not unearthed, perhaps it was something she would come to him with in time. After all, she was still with him, so it was fine. Everything was fine.

Ban shook her head vehemently. Of course he had misunderstood everything. “Astarion. You changed. All of a sudden you were megalomaniacal, narcissistic, and just - evil! Of course I’d pull away. You were distant. You were suddenly all haughty and there was none of the you that only I knew.”

He stopped soaping her arm. “I was finally strong, finally free! I finally had something to offer you! Don’t you understand?!” His temper got the best of him and he growled, “The rite made me this. Made me better. Stronger. Gave me the chance to claim my due. What I was owed.”

He leaned in close. “After two hundred years of torture and slavery, Ban, I think I deserved it!”

He didn’t tell her that he had also thought ascending would please her. That he could finally be a partner equal to her in strength and prowess, that he could protect her as she had him and provide her with everything she would ever need, immortality foremost amongst them. That she’d be his queen, his right hand, loved and pampered for eternity. The moment she had shown displeasure over that, he’d had to double down on the hedonism and the callousness to protect himself.

Centuries without anyone to care, to know him, to love him. Endless years of bodies and cruelty and pain, with no hope of reprieve. He’d given up hope of ever finding freedom, or happiness, or love - and then she’d come along. She’d seen him and chosen him, had claimed his withered heart, though he had nothing to offer in return. She’d thought him, simply him, to be enough. The idea of losing her, of losing that which had been bestowed upon him like a benediction was unthinkable. His mind had recoiled at the very idea, refusing to accept something so painful, and so he’d hidden himself away, behind layers of extravagance and ego, in a desperate effort not to fall apart.

“The world doesn’t owe us anything, Astarion. And I know you’ve suffered. So much more than you ever deserved.” Ban took the soap from his hand and put it away. He took a moment to wet his hair, the curls sticking to his forehead. She grabbed the shampoo, reaching for his hair, hoping he would allow it.

To her surprise he did, leaning his head forward so she could reach him.

“But just because you’ve suffered doesn’t mean you can inflict the same suffering onto others. Onto the people you would’ve made your spawn had I not put my foot down. Onto… onto me.”

Her hands scratched his scalp gently, and he was thankful that with his head lowered like this, she couldn't see his face. He cried silently, a trick he’d mastered early on in Cazador’s custody. The tears mixed with the water, lost before she could notice.

“I started avoiding you, yes. And maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have talked to you instead. I’m sorry I didn’t,” she continued, “But I was scared. I thought you weren’t you, that maybe the ritual had actually fundamentally altered you. So I did my research first, took my time. And by the time I realized it was indeed still you…”

By that time, their love had been so tainted she’d felt like her only option was to run.

She slid behind him, gently nudging him to tip his head backwards so she could rinse out his hair. He did so, his eyes closed. The water sluiced down his silvery curls and she couldn’t help but play with them, running the strands between her fingers.

“You could have talked to me, you know? This isn’t just on me,” she finally said.

“I couldn’t.” His voice threatened to crack, and he forced it to steady. Couldn’t, because he’d been terrified of being weak and alone again, the panic had strangled him before he could give voice to his fear. He’d known she was unhappy and self-preservation had taken over. To preserve his heart, he’d needed control; telling her would have relinquished that control. He would rather have lived with that farce of a relationship and suffered than risk it all on a gamble that could go sideways and leave him worse off than he’d been even in slavery.

“I couldn’t risk losing you.” He forced the words past his lips, enunciating everything slowly so that no cracks appeared in his voice. “I’d much rather just suffer. I am used to suffering. The whole of my life has been suffering.”

I’d rather suffer than be alone again. He would rather endure all her barbs, all the coldness she’d shown him, if it meant she’d be there.

“And how about my suffering? Or did that not matter to you?” She finished rinsing his hair, grabbing the soap to scrub his back. She ran her hand over the scars carefully, remembering to touch them in a way that he found acceptable. He melted into her touch, his shoulders drooping as he relaxed.

“It mattered. I knew you were miserable.” He hesitated. “I thought everything else would make up for it.” His voice finally cracked. He winced at the sound of it, but he pushed on.

“I wanted to give you the world.” His voice was small, another layer peeled from his core. “You deserve the world, but instead I made the world hell."

Ban froze, hand stilling in the middle of an infernal rune. She fought the instinct to hug him, unsure if that would be welcome right now. He was still the Ascendant, but he was also the spawn she loved. She understood now, he had always been both.

“I never wanted the riches. Not the clothes, or the jewelry, or the influence. Even the sex, as amazing as it has always been.” Other than tonight, every single time they’d had sex had been marred by something - from his initial plans of manipulating her, to all the times when she’d just lain there and gone through the motions because she’d hated who he had become. She kissed the back of his neck, a gentle press of lips that left them soapy. “I only ever wanted you, Astarion. The real you.”

The Astarion who had accompanied her in her journeys, the one who hadn’t been afraid to trust her with his heart. The one with whom she’d cuddled in that dirty tent night after night, swapping stories and enjoying each other’s company.

The Ascendant covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want her to see his tears, and even if he was silent, he knew it was pretty obvious by now that he’d started to cry.

He was so afraid. He’d always known, deep inside, that that was what she wanted. The bigger question, however, was whether he’d be able to give it. Was he brave enough to let the last layers fall at such a tentative time as this? When she could just leave again?

I’m a coward. The Ascendant knew this; he knew he would never be as brave as that spawn. This, after all, was why he loathed that version of himself - so powerless, and yet stronger than the Ascendant had ever been. He wanted to draw away from Ban, to bring the walls up, to hide behind them and peep through the windows of his defenses. To be safe.

But he owed it to her to at least try.

“If I fail, Ban-” he began, “If I stumble-“

“I’ll catch you. I’ll be here.”

Her hands roamed his back, still cleaning him, and he realized he wanted to ask her to hold him. He longed for the shelter of her embrace, the shield that protected him from the world.

A broken, stifled sound broke through the Ascendant’s lips.

“Hold me.” It was a broken whisper, he half hoped she hadn’t heard it. He hadn’t asked to be held since that fateful day when he’d condemned thousands to their end. Hadn’t felt like he deserved it, really.

But he wasn’t above asking now.

She responded immediately, gathering him in her arms and letting him settle against her, his back to her chest. He positioned himself to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He could feel her every breath, her undead skin, the slow beat of her undead heart.

The frantic pace of his own heart began to slow. He closed his eyes, the two of them utterly still for a few heartbeats, until Ban began to wash him again, allowing him time to collect himself.

This is why I love her. She always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it, even when it was something he wasn't aware of himself. He let her bathe him, focusing solely on the sensation of her hands on his body, the gentle glide of her touch soothing him. He hadn’t had this type of intimacy in far too long, and he realized he’d rather die than lose it again. He’d been thinking that a lot, lately, he realized; about the things he’d rather die than go without. Perhaps it was time to start behaving accordingly.

All too soon she was finished bathing them both, and he was wrapping a towel around his waist. Ban sat on the bed, drying her hair with a towel. Astarion walked back into the bedroom and nearly reached for his pillow and blanket to curl up on the floor again, out of habit.

But Ban’s words echoed in his mind. The floor never did wonders for your back, Astarion.

He sat beside her on the bed, searching for something to say, just to break the silence.

“That whole time you were with Gale,” he began. The fact that she’d chosen to begin writing to him immediately after their evening together had struck him as odd and made him more than a little jealous. “Did you ever consider actually being with him?”

She looked over, a little surprised by this line of inquiry. It did make sense for him to ask, she supposed. The truth was that she’d felt nervous being around Astarion again, being in the same bedroom - actually sleeping together. Writing that letter had felt like something to do, something to keep her occupied while he bathed. She hadn’t really expected him to ask her to join him - that wasn’t something they’d done often when she’d still lived with him. She didn’t see any reason to tell him that, though, since that wasn’t what he asked.

“I did consider it.” It wasn’t a lie, and he knew exactly what had transpired between her and Gale physically. “He’s-” she tried to continue, and he cut her off.

“Everything I’m not. I know.” Tamping down the urge to get angry and to push her away yet again, he took a moment to calm down. Did she really mean it, when she’d said she wanted to try? Why had she been writing a letter to him so soon after? He was aware there was probably a perfectly reasonable answer, and that he could simply ask, but the insecurity won out.

“Is that what you want? Someone like Gale.” He was relieved that it hadn’t come out angry, although his jaw was clenched.

“Didn’t I just tell you I want you?”

He wanted to protest. Sex made things complicated, made people say things they didn’t mean. He knew that better than anyone - he’d heard it all, professions of love from countless people in various stages of bliss. He’d known not to believe a word of it, known that in those moments those people did believe their own words - he’d known exactly how to twist that belief to serve his master’s agenda, too.

“If it’s true, then say it again.” Shit. That came out wrong.

She narrowed her eyes at him, meeting the challenge in his gaze. Her mouth opened for a scathing remark, but then she noticed the way he looked.

The challenge was there, but there was more. In the set of his lips, in the way his jaw was clenched - there was fear. He was bracing himself, as if he expected her to change her mind and to leave him again. Ban looked down and sure enough, his hands were fisted into the sheets. She covered his with her own.

“I want you,” she said slowly. “I want to try again.” She kept it simple - not promising too much, but also hopefully giving him what he needed to hear.

Astarion looked away from her, staring at the wall. He eventually nodded sharply. “That’s all I ask. You can finish your letter now, if you want, and I’ll have the servants send it out first thing tomorrow.”

Ban nodded, placing a quick kiss to his temple before leaving the bed. As she settled herself at the desk again, Astarion forced himself to lie down on his side of the bed, watching her work. He took the opportunity to revel in her presence, in the quiet domesticity of it all. His eyelids began to grow heavy and his body relaxed comfortably, sensations he hadn’t felt since she’d left. He let the contentment wash over him, slipping into trance, his last thoughts of her.

He didn’t see her finish her letter and slip onto the bed beside him, nuzzling into his chest. He didn’t hear the whispered “I love you,” nor feel the soft kiss against his sternum. It made a difference, though, his rest was undisturbed by nightmares or by dark thoughts for the first time in months.

When sunlight finally streamed through the bay windows, Astarion opened his eyes and reached out for Ban.

His hands met empty air.

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #astarion fic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x female oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #ascended astarion x f!tav #ascended astarion x tav #astarion ascended #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

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sequinsmile-x · 6 months

Text

Sugar and Spice

Emily has a new lotion. Aaron likes it. A lot.

-x-

Hi friends,

It's been a while since I wrote smut, and I thought what better time to fix that than Aaron's birthday!

I really hope you like this, and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron yawns as he steps into the master bedroom, making sure he quietly closes the door behind him so he doesn’t undo any of his hard work in getting the baby to sleep. The 11-month-old was teething and had Emily up most of the night before, finding solace in his mother’s arms like Aaron had often done himself. They had a long-standing agreement that they’d take the long nights in turns, so Aaron had put Arthur to bed, pacing the nursery back and forth until his son fell back to sleep against his chest whilst Emily had some much-deserved alone time relaxing in the bath.

He’s settled back into bed and about to reach for his book when the ensuite door opens, he turns and looks, smiling at the sight of his wife walking into the bedroom, followed by a cloud of steam.

“Hi honey,” she says, a sleepy smile on her face that tells him everything he needs to know about how soon she’ll fall asleep herself, “I heard Artie, is he okay?”

Aaron smiles as she settles into bed, “He’s okay,” he says as he watches her tuck the bedding around her, “If he knew how to flip me off when he saw it was me walking in, not you, I think he would have,” he quips, and she chuckles as she settles against him, “But he’s asleep.”

She hums as she curls herself around him, her arm and leg thrown over him as she settles closer, her head on his chest, “I’m so tired.”

He kisses the top of her head, “Well I’ve got him tonight,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back, “So you can rest,” he says, kissing her forehead before he shifts them so she’s on her side and he’s curled around her back. He kisses her neck and then pauses, pressing his face into her bare shoulder where her t-shirt had slipped down, his eyebrows knitting together as she breathes her in, “Sweetheart, did you use different bath salts? You smell different.”

He’d always loved how she smelt, something that was true even back when she was simply a member of his team and his marriage was failing. He’d hate himself for how he’d feel a pull deep in his gut whenever Emily leant past him, the subtle floral smell of her perfume lingering in his senses long after she’d stepped away. His love of the way she smells only got stronger after they got together. The floral scent of what he soon learnt to be her lotion, not a perfume, something he could smell directly from the source, his face pressed against her collarbone as they lay in bed. It mixed perfectly with the scent of her, whatever was uniquely Emily that would come through from underneath and elevate anything bought from even the fanciest of stores.

This was different. There was a subtle spice to whatever she’d used, a warmth that seemed to have melted directly into her skin that he knew had nothing to do with just how hot she would have had her bath.

She nods as she wraps her hand around his and hugs his arm to her chest, “It’s a new lotion,” she says, yawning, “Vanilla and cinnamon, it’s part of the fall collection,” she tilts her head to look up at him, “Do you like it?”

He feels a familiar stirring in his gut, desire for his wife almost overwhelming, and he tightens his hold on her as he reminds himself how tired she is, how she’s practically falling asleep in his arms. He clears his throat and kisses the back of her head.

“I love it,” he says, hoping he covers the rasp to his voice, that, for once, he’s hidden just how much she affects him, “Get some sleep, baby.”

She kisses his knuckles, “Love you,” she says, her words already slurring together.”

“Love you too,” he says, resting his head against her shoulder again and breathing in deeply, filling his lungs with everything that was her.

___

She knows. Of course, she knows.

Aaron had never been afraid to be affectionate with her, something that had surprised her at first. He’d always seek her out, his hand in hers or in the dip on her lower back. Soft kisses pressed against her lips or skin as he told her he loved her, as if he had ever given her any reason to doubt it.

His need for her was stronger than usual. Almost unrelenting as he would pull her into a hug at any given opportunity, his face pressed into her neck as he breathes deeply.

She realises it’s the lotion almost straight away. She spots him reading the label on the bottle like it’s the most interesting book on the planet, his gaze as intense as she’d seen it in a long time. She has fun with it, pressing her lips together to stop herself from smiling as she asks him to rub the lotion into her back, an idea that backfires when any tension that had built between them as he gently massaged her skin is shattered by Jack calling for their attention.

The realities of parenting two young boys, one of them a baby, and both of them working full-time jobs, means they don’t get a chance to spend any real time together for a couple of weeks beyond simply exchanging soft kisses before bed, both too tired for anything more.

She yawns in the dark of their bedroom, sleep eluding her despite how tired she is, and she looks at the clock, groaning when she realises how soon she’s going to have to get up. She trails her fingers through Aaron’s hair, scratching at his scalp, something she knows comforts him even when he’s asleep, and she tilts her head to look down at him. Even in the relative darkness of their room, she can see how relaxed he is, his face pressed into her collarbone as he sleeps, and she smiles.

An idea starts to quickly form in her head, an expansion of the plans she already had for his upcoming birthday forming as she thinks of a way to get them some much-needed alone time. ___

He never liked a big fuss on his birthday, so Emily ensures to keep the day relatively low-key. They spend most of the day with the boys. They have pancakes, that Jack is mostly in charge of but with her supervision and spend time at home, Aaron opens his gifts and homemade cards from his sons that leave a trail of glitter Emily knows will last until the New Year all over the living room floor.

In the evening they go to Dave’s house, the boys at home under Jess’s care. They have dinner with their friends, Aaron insistent on helping Dave cook even though it's his birthday, It’s only when they are about to leave, exchanging goodbyes and hugs with their friends like they wouldn’t see them at work in a couple of days, when she reveals the next part of her plan.

They weren’t going home and Jess was watching the boys overnight for them.

She’d booked the hotel a few days ago. She’d requested the same suite they’d stayed in the day they got married, unable to stop herself from indulging in the romantic side of her that she was never sure existed before him.

He smiles as they walk into the suite, his arms wrapping around her from behind as he kisses her neck, “You got the same suite we had on our wedding day.”

She smiles as she turns in his embrace, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, “You remembered?”

Aaron smiles as he leans down to kiss her, his hand tangling in her hair to hold her in place, “I remember every single thing about you.”

Emily blushes, her cheeks turning pink as she shakes her head at him. There were times when it was hard to believe that he still had this effect on her. She still felt as giddy around him as she had when they first got together, that nothing had lessened how she felt about him, how she knows he feels about her.

If anything, she thinks it’s more intense now. She thinks of the last time they’d been here, surrounded by newlywed bliss from their elopement, and how much she’d loved him then, and how much more she loves him now. There was something all the more incredible about being here with him now, almost two years on, the normal everyday nature of their love for each other one of her favourite things.

“I’m going to go get changed,” she says, kissing him soundly before she pulls back, taking the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

“I like what you’re wearing now,” he says, looking her up and down, the dark red dress she’d worn to dinner one of his favourites, and she winks at him.

“I think you’ll like what I’m changing into more.”

She steps into the bathroom and locks the door behind her, making sure that he can’t follow her in, and she makes quick work of getting changed. She kicks off her shoes and takes her dress off, hanging it over the edge of the bath before she carefully looks at herself in the mirror. The lingerie she’s wearing, a lacy matching set in the same red wine colour as her dress, was new, something she’d bought specifically for his birthday. She looks herself up and down, her eyes lingering on the stretch marks on her belly, how in some spots they almost blended into the scar beneath her ribcage. At first, she hated it, hated how much her body had changed, but now she loved it. Loved how evidence of where she’d carried their youngest son had seeped over the damage Ian had left behind, much like Aaron and the boys had done to her heart. A physical manifestation of their love for each other.

She turns back to her bag and pulls out the bottle of vanilla and cinnamon lotion she’d packed, smiling to herself as she carefully rubs it into her skin. She knew the longer she took to go back out into the bedroom the more worked up Aaron would be getting, and that only ever meant good things for her.

Once she’s done, she looks at herself one more time in the mirror before she unlocks the door and steps out into the bedroom.

He’s called to attention the moment he hears the lock click as she walks back out into the bedroom. His back goes straight, his body tense with anticipation as he watches her walk towards where he’s sitting on the bed. His mouth goes dry at the sight of her, the dark red lingerie he’d never seen before taking his breath away.

She stops just in front of him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she leans down to kiss him, giving him a flash of her cleavage before her lips are on his. His hands automatically land on her waist, tugging her down to straddle his lap, her knees on either side of his hips as she licks through his mouth. They pull back, breathless as they rest their foreheads together. She pulls back to look at him, smirking as he groans when she rolls her hips against his.

“It’s your birthday honey, so…”

He doesn’t pay attention as she’s talking, all of his focus on the softness of her skin, of how it smells as he leans forward to press his lips against her shoulder. He grunts, overwhelmed by the scent that had been driving him crazy for weeks as the desire he hadn’t been able to take advantage of finally wins out. He doesn’t think as he flips them over, her surprised squeal as her back presses into the mattress echoing around them as he puts his hands on either side of her head, pushing himself up off of her as he all but growls at her.

“You smell so fucking good,” he says, leaning down to lick a line from her breasts up to her collarbone, tasting the groan on her lips as he kisses her, “It’s been driving me crazy for weeks.”

She smiles up at him, grasping the back of his head as she kisses him soundly, wrapping a leg around him to pull him back down onto her, both of them groaning at the contact.

“I know,” she says, biting his lip before she soothes it with a kiss, “Why do you think I’ve worn the damn lotion every day?”

He’s sure the way she knowingly smirks at him should annoy him, but it doesn’t. Instead, it draws another growl out of him before he kisses her, quick and fierce before he withdraws completely. She rests herself on her elbows as he stands, swallowing thickly when he looks at her intensely. She gasps when he grabs her ankles, tugging her to the edge of the bed so her feet hit the floor.

He kneels down in front of her, the silence between them palpable as he runs his hands up and down her left leg before switching to her right, groaning at the softness of her skin.

“I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he promises, stroking her skin, smiling when she shivers, “See if you taste as good as you smell.”

She groans, pressing her thighs together as she chases pressure she desperately needs, “You know,” she says, swallowing thickly as he trails his hands up her thighs, his fingers hooking into her underwear and pulling the lacy material down her legs, “Most men would just want a blow job on their birthday.”

He kisses each of her knees and pushes her thighs apart, trailing his lips up to the apex of them, groaning at the scent of her, of something that was uniquely her.

“Well,” he says, looking up at her, his pupils blown wide with desire, “I’m not most men.”

Any response is cut off as he licks through her, her words lost to a moan as she throws her head back. She grasps the soft sheets between her fingers as she rolls her hips against his face.

“Fuck,” she gasps, “Fuck, please don’t stop.”

He pushes two fingers into her, smirking as he draws another groan from her whilst he curls his fingers. He sucks a bruise into her thigh, “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the spot he’s just bruised, “So good.”

He dives back in, using his knowledge of her body, of her, to build her up, not relenting as she tips over the edge, only stopping when she laughs, her trembling foot on his shoulder as she pushes him away.

“Fuck, Aaron,” she says, laughing breathlessly, “I’m going to buy every damn bottle of this lotion the store has.”

He chuckles as he undoes his belt and then his pants, “Way ahead of you baby,” he says, carrying on before she can think about what that means, “Turn over.”

She does as she’s told without thinking about it, turning onto her still slightly unsteady hands and knees. She shivers as he leans over her, his lips against her spine before he’s gone again, the cool air of the room against her heated skin making goose pimples break out. She’s tense as she’s waiting for him to do something, the seconds where she can’t feel him are some of the longest of her life.

He licks through her from behind, his tongue gentle against her sensitive skin, and then he leans back over her, joint groans leaving them as he guides himself into her. He leans over her, the material of his shirt against her skin heightening everything, his desperation to have her clear in the fact he was still fully dressed. He doesn’t move as he lays over her, keeping still as she clenches around him, his face pressed between her shoulder blades as he breathes her in.

No matter how many times they did this, no matter how many years they had been together, he always took a moment to acknowledge this. To enjoy being pressed up against her in every way, to acknowledge how lucky he was to call this woman his wife. The love of his life.

She clenches around him again and pushes back into him, desperate for what he was denying her, “Move, please,” she grits out, trying to roll her hips against his, “Fuck…I…need you to move.”

He’d never been able to deny her anything, let alone in moments like this. He starts to move, grunting into the seam of her neck as she meets him thrust for thrust, pushing her hips back into him.

“God, sweetheart,” he says, moving faster, the sound of his skin slapping against hers echoing around them, “You feel so good.”

“So…so do you,” she chokes out, clenching around him, “So fucking good.”

They build each other up, the knowledge of what each other needed deeply engrained in their memories. He notices when her thighs start to shake and he reaches a hand under her, pinching her clit between his finger and thumb to roll it. He leans down to whisper into her ear, his breath skipping across her skin, heightening what she was already feeling, her control on a razor-sharp edge.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he says, “Let me feel it.”

She tips over the edge and he follows immediately, falling after her as she gets tighter around him, any resistance to giving in long gone.

Even in his high, he’s careful not to crush her, laying next to her on the bed both of them catching their breath. She chuckles as she reaches for him, her hand on his cheek as she tugs him into a kiss.

“Did I mention I bought the body wash in the matching scent?”

He looks at her for one moment before he stands up, picking her up with more strength than he thought he would have at the moment, ignoring the pull in his back as she yelps and wraps her arms around his neck whilst he walks them to the bathroom.

“This is the best birthday ever.”

___

Emily presses a kiss to Arthur’s head as he whines, his face pressed into her neck as he continues to cry.

“You’re okay sweet boy,” she says, rubbing one of her hands up and down his back as she desperately looks for his favourite toy, not seeing it anywhere in the nursery, “I’ll find it.” She tries to think about when she saw it last and remembers that Aaron was up with him in the night, “Let’s go check Daddy’s office, huh?”

Aaron had a habit of taking Arthur into his office when the little boy wouldn’t sleep. It was the room furthest away from the other bedrooms, and sometimes the only way they had a chance of not waking up the whole house. She adjusts her hold on her son as she walks into the room and she immediately walks into something hard that cracks against her shin.

“Mother….fudger,” she says, correcting herself before she curses. Arthur was on the verge of speaking and she didn’t want his first word to be a curse word.

Aaron would never let her live it down.

She furrows her brows as she looks down at the large cardboard box that Aaron had barely put inside his office. She crouches down, well practised at doing so with Arthur in her arms, his little hands fisted in her shirt as if she was going somewhere, and she lifts the flap of the already open box to see what is inside, laughing the moment she sees it. She pulls out a bottle of vanilla and cinnamon lotion, one of the many many bottles in the large box in front of her and she shakes her head.

He really was the sweetest guy she’d ever met. Ridiculous, but sweet.

“Daddy is so silly, sweet boy,” she says, placing the bottle she’d taken out back in the box and standing back up, “But we love him anyway.”

-x-

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105 notes · View notes

illwritethanks · 1 year

Text

Freedom -Part 3

Pairing- Sully family x niece!reader

WC- 2,005

Genre- fluff, maybe a little bit of angst?

Warnings- siblings being siblings, lots of hate on Spider, the whole family are sassy 😭

A/n- Hiii! I had to half this because it was getting to long so there is going to be a part 2 to part 3 😂 ALSO I just want to say thank you for everyone liking this! And I’m sorry that I haven’t reply to those who messaged! I would but every time I do my other account shows and says that I written it from that one, but thank you to those who have messaged saying that they want to be tagged and that they like the story so far!

Quick info- Y/n- 12 years old, Spider- 11 years old, Neteyam- 10 years old, Kiri- 9 years old, Lo’ak- 9 years old, Tuk- 3 years old.

Waking up slowly, y/n heard the wild animals out in the forest and in the sky, she felt the wind brush across her bear arms and legs, she also felt the heavy pressure of her brother, Neteyam, leg across her stomach as he snored still peacefully sleeping, and also heard a small high pitched voice right next to them.

“Y/n! Neteyam!”

She felt small hands grip onto her body, pushing her every so often as they switched between her and her brother.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered under her breath, turning on her side shooing the person away, as well as pushing her brother off of her, to which he grunted as his foot harshly fell on the floor. She heard the person whine, smacking her arm slightly as they sat back down.

“Here, watch this.” She heard another voice whisper.

It was silent after that, small foot steps running out of their family hut. Finally the hut returned back to it’s peaceful state, no screaming kids, no fights, just the wind, waterfalls, and the animals she would hear every so often.

Peace and quiet.

Y/n finally felt herself drift off back to sleep, that was until she felt cold water splash onto her face. She gasped as she sat up, eyes locking onto Lo’ak and Kiri, holding a wooden bowl between them. Not only did the water splash her but her brother that laid next to her.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam hissed out.

“Run.” Mumbled Kiri.

“Tsk, skxawngs.” Y/n said under her breath, her two younger siblings running out of the hut screaming and laughing as their older brother ran after them, dodging their mother, who was holding a sleepy Tuktirey on her hip, on the way out of the hut.

“What is happening?” Asked Netyiri, stroking Tuk’s hair as she walked further into their family hut.

“Lo’ak and Kiri are just being Lo’ak and Kiri.” She replied wiping the remaining water off of her face. Netyiri scoffed, looking towards the direction of where her children ran off toward.

“You should follow after them.” She stated, sitting down and placing Tuk in front of her, going through her braids, undoing some and re-braiding it to make them neater as her hair kept growing at unimaginable speed.

“But why? They are fine going by themselves now!”

Netyiri tutted as she looked up, narrowing her eyes at y/n as if daring her to try and challenge her.

Y/n groaned, dramatically falling to her side.

“They want to meet with the stray cat, and I don’t trust them alone together.” Netyiri said, continuing with her work.

The stray cat as people like to call him around the Omatikaya clan, is a small pink fleshed kid with dirty blonde dreadlocks called Spider. She can’t remember how he came to be and how he and her siblings became friends but she did know one thing, and that was that she did not like this kid. He wears the clothes of Na’vi and paints blue markings onto himself saying that he’s Na’vi, which you found utterly embarrassing. But no matter what he says or what he does, in Y/n’s books he will never be classed as a Na’vi. Never.

Not only was he human but he was always getting himself into trouble and dragging Lo’ak with him. And who had to save them. Y/n. Of course she doesn’t want to save him, but then her siblings start crying and hitting her saying that they will tell their Mother and Father. Not that Netyiri really cares what happened to the stray, but Y/n would rather save the pink fleshy thing rather than the scolding of Jake a hundred times over.

Y/n groaned once more before standing up, grabbing her knife and securing it around her hips before slowly walking out of the hut in the directions of where her younger brothers and sister ran off toward.

“Tsk, children.” Netyiri sighed under her breath.

Y/n walked past members of the clan who bowed their head at the young girl, which the young Na’vi did the same. Although she wouldn’t be the next Olo’eyktan (because Jake and Netyiri aren’t her biological Mother and Father), she was still the oldest daughter of the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as her biological Father being the Olo’eyktan before dying in battle and her Mother that was meant to be the future Tsahìk but never got to finish her Tsakarem due to the sky people.

Y/n walked into Mo’at’s hut, who was sitting in the centre, a stone motor in one hand and a pessel in the other, grinding herbs and plants making medical pastes for the injured and sick Na’vi, her grandmother grumbling under her breath about what she need to do and get.

“Grandmother.”

Mo’at hummed in response, picking up other herbs and placing them in the motor.

“Do you know where my brothers and sister have run off to?”

“How would I know. They are not my children to look after.” She grunted.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Although it didn’t look like it, she had a really close relationship with her grandmother, and spent most of her time with her if she wasn’t with her siblings. She liked spending time with her grandmother, not only did she get taught special remedies, rituals and learnt more about Eywa but she learnt a lot about her mum and dad as well as her grandfather.

“Grandmother, please.” She begged.

Mo’at sighed as she placed down her belongings, turning her head to face Y/n, “They came in here made a mess, then ran off saying something about meeting someone.”

Y/n groaned, rushing out of her grandmothers hut and toward the edge of the village, her grandmother calling out to her, “you better watch that attitude, y/n or your younger siblings will pick up on it!”.

As Y/n got to the edge of the village she saw her siblings giggling with each other as they slowly made their descent down, jumping on vines connecting to other mountains and trees.

Running over she came to a stop just beside Lo’ak, roughly ruffling his head, which he pushed her hand off him, hissing.

“Are you lot going to meet the stray?” She asked.

Kiri rolled her eyes, “he has a name you know. It’s Spider.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We’re going to meet dad after for training.” Neteyam said, skipping to the other side of a vine and jumping down onto the forest floor. Y/n hummed in acknowledgment, jumping down and turning around to help her younger siblings down.

Once she made sure all her siblings where on the forest floor safely, she nodded to Neteyam to take lead, to which he turn around quickly and took off, “first one there wins!” He shouted, jumping over and ducking under fallen logs.

“Hey! That’s no fair, Neteyam!” Lo’ak screamed, chasing after him.

Y/n let out a loud laugh, she enjoyed these times where her younger siblings could relax and just enjoy themselves rather than making sure they was on their best behaviour since their father was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, although that didn’t stop them from miss behaving on certain occasions.

Y/n grabbed Kiri, putting her on her back as she ran after her two brothers. Throughout the forest all that could be heard was the young Na’vi children laughing and shouting at each. The animals of Pandora watched as the siblings would push each other trying to take the lead of the group, jumping up into trees to run across the thick branches or leaping across small streams of water, laughing and teasing one another if one of them had slipped or got hit in the face by a branch.

Their laughter continued as they came to stop in the clearing. Y/n sitting at the bottom of a trunk, looking up at the leaves as the sun beamed down between them, she basked in the sunlight, feeling the warmth seep into her skin, “when is he meant to be meeting you?”

The three younger siblings looked around the forest, keeping their eye open for the small human boy. “Soon.” Stated Lo’ak, Kiri nodding along with him.

Y/n hummed, “well you know the rules, don’t go to far.”

“Yes.” Lo’ak groaned out, rolling his eyes.

A few minutes later a young boy wearing a mask emerged from the forest along with a large Avatar, who she recognised as Spider and Norm.

Norm was rambling on about something in English to the boy, which he kept reply yes to. Although Y/n didn’t know a lot of English like her younger siblings do, she could alway pick out a few words here and there.

“Ah! Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here!” Norm said in Na’vi.

Y/n grunted, “I’m here to look after my younger siblings. Make sure they don’t get into trouble.”

Although y/n didn’t like the sky people, despise them. She had a few she didn’t mind, despite her attitude, one of them being Norm (though she found it weird that he could go from human to Avatar with a click of a button), Max and Grace, although she had passed away, y/n felt like she knew her though the stories that the elders, Jake and Norm have told her. And let’s not forget about Jake. She remembered when she first found out that he was originally one of them, she felt horrified. But as she grew she became to love him like a father, how he fought for her family, her land. But in her books he was no longer a sky person, a human. He was Na’vi, a brother to the Omatikaya people.

“Ohhh, okay.” Norm replied, believing that the young Na’vi just wanted to hang out with her siblings and Spider, but because of how stubborn she was she would never let anyone know that she wanted to play with a human boy.

Y/n grunted as she rolled her eyes, looking across the forest, not wanting to indulge with Norm.

Then finally came the time when Norm was saying his goodbyes, not before talking Spider’s ear off about being safe and sticking with the Sully’s and to listen to Y/n.

As Norm disappeared into the forest, the children quickly started talking to each other, telling one another what they have missed from the two days they have been separated from each other, before they decided that it was time to play.

“Hey Y/n, do you want to play with us?” Spider asked, walking up to the girl who remained sitting down.

“I’m good, Stray.” She replied nonchalantly, although there was a hint of venom behind her words.

Spider let out a harsh breath, shaking his head in frustration as he turned, walking towards Lo’ak, “Why is she always so mad at me.”

Lo’ak let out a loud laugh, his head tilted back as if he heard the funniest joke in the whole world. Spider raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“No. No you got all wrong, cuz.” Lo’ak shook his head, placing his hand on his shoulder, “she just doesn’t like humans all that much.”

Spider scoffed, “are you sure? It seems like she only hates me. Do you think it’s because she found out who my father was.”

“No, trust me. If she knew who you was related to she would probably kill you. I mean, I’d kill you if you killed my parents.” Lo’ak shrugged his shoulders.

“Lo’ak.” Spider hissed.

“Anyway let’s go play! We have to meet our dad for training later, so we might not have enough time to play.” Lo’ak said, pushing Spiders shoulder before running in the direction he saw Neteyam and Kiri run off towards.

Before Spider left, he turned his head looking towards where Y/n was sitting, leaning on the trunk, her head against the tree bark as she stared up into the sky, watching the Ikran fly throughout the mountains.

He let out a sigh before following his friend.

It seems that whatever he did she would always take a disliking towards him.

Taglist: @bubble-blu , @aonungs-tsahik , @uwu-i-purple-you , @affdorabfle

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fazedlight · 10 months

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Do-Over (supercorp ficlet, 100th episode angst, no plot impact after)

Rao, I can’t believe we did it.

She had nearly given up, after the last timeline - she could still feel the sting of kryptonite in her veins, the harrowing image in her mind of the green stone in Lena’s chest, as she refused to fight her. “Then you will die screaming.”

But the odds of another world like that - where Lena used 5th dimensional magic, blocking Mxy out - was low. So after Kara caught her breath and shook off her nerves, they decided to give it another few goes.

They hit it in the very next shot. Kara had decided to jump forward again, meeting Lena just after an uncomfortable incident in the elevator to Sam’s apartment - “I can never trust her again” - and giving her the truth. And Lena had been pissed, at first. But over the course of the timeline, she thawed. Kara and Mxy found themselves watching a movie night, Kara’s head in Lena’s lap as Lena gently scritched the blonde’s hair, Kara dozing off in the middle of the second Pirates of the Caribbean.

“This is it,” Kara said, delighted as she turned back to Mxy. “She doesn’t hate me! No one died! This is it-”

But Kara cut off suddenly, watching the screen with widening eyes, as a sheepish and fond confession fell from Lena’s lips. And she found herself a voyeur to her own dreams, watching herself as this other Kara sat up, cheeks turning a bright pink with her own confession, before the two women’s lips gently met.

“Turn it off,” Kara said, jumping off the couch and turning away from the television. “Turn it off, Mxy.” “But this-” Mxy stuttered, confused. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Yes, Kara thought to herself, overwhelming anguish ripping through her body. Because it was everything. Everything that could’ve and should’ve happened.

Had she not been such a fool.

It was a misguided endeavor, she realized now. She could’ve ignored her misgivings, for a time anyway. Embrace a reality where she and Lena were friends again, where she had never hurt her, or at least not driven her so far.

But the pit of nausea in Kara’s stomach grew. Because the idea of being in Lena’s arms, being in her bed, feeling her wanting body, without Lena ever knowing what Kara had done, suddenly felt anathema. It wouldn’t be real. It would simply be Kara taking advantage of her again, far worse than before.

“I’m keeping the real timeline,” Kara said brokenly. “I can’t… I can’t run from this. I- I don’t know how I’m going to fix this. But I can’t undo my mistakes like this.”

Mxy’s eyes gentled at the turned-away kryptonian, holding back a sigh of relief as he snapped his fingers, the projector and reels of film and popcorn dissipating back to his dimension. It was ironic, really, that all of his fake timelines had only made the kryptonian dig in her heels, eager to find something that actually worked. But the one real timeline he had them glimpse - back on Earth-413, before the Crisis - was the one that led to her finally accepting that she couldn’t change time.

Which was great, because neither could he.

Kara took a deep, steadying breath, turning back to Mxy. “I know it didn’t turn out the way we expected,” Kara said, handing back Mxy’s recorder with his backwards-recorded name. “But you still helped me, Mxy. Now I know the only way out is through.”

The kryptonian stood - sad, but hopeful again - and Mxy gave a small smile. As with so much of the mystery of the universe, he couldn’t say how or when Kara and Lena would find their way. He only knew that they would.

“It’s true what you said, Kara,” Mxy said, thinking of the words the woman in front of him had said, not all that long ago. That’s all this endeavor was, really, returning that favor. “Magic can’t be forced. It has to be found.” And it will.

#angst with a hopeful ending #I just didn't feel satisfied with the ending of the 100th episode so here's another do-over #supercorp fanfic #supercorp ficlet #supercorp #mel writes ficlets

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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You Left Me Scars Through Memories (Tangled in my DNA) - Prologue

"I love you so much," Stephanie Harrington says, reaching out a hand to tuck some hair behind his ear. It's more an excuse to touch than to clear his face of hair. It's at a length now that will result in the tucked hair falling back into his face with barely a shake of his head.

Steve blinks up at her from where he's sat in her lap, his face far too serious for a toddler just a few hours shy of three years old.

"Your life is going to be so difficult and it's my fault. I'm so sorry," she whispers, sweeping him into a hug. He snuggles into her embrace instantly and it brings tears to her eyes. He should hate her for what she's done. Perhaps he will, once he's older and can understand what she's apologizing for.

"I'm going to tell you a story," she settles back into the chair, a big plush thing that she sits in every night to read a bedtime story to Steve, or tries too anyway. He's at the age where he's wiggly and full of energy until he drops.

"Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. Husband and wife. And they loved each other very much," she starts, running one hand up and down on her baby's back, soothing, "and they wanted nothing more than to have a child.

"But try as they might, no child would come to them. And soon resentment began to grow. The wife, convinced that having a child would remove the resentment, set off to make a bargain with a witch, said to live deep in the woods.

"She told her husband she was going to visit her family so as not to arouse suspicion. Consorting with witches wasn't something that was done, you see."

This is the longest Steve has sat still in her lap in months. She thinks he might be asleep but continues the story anyway.

"It took her almost three weeks to find the witch, deep in the woods. Upon arrival, the witch had tried to turn away the wife. But the wife was persistent. 'Please,' she begged the witch, 'if we can have a child then my husband will love me again.'

"The witch was not moved by this plea. 'You would bring a child into a loveless marriage?' and the wife argued that once they had a child, their marriage would no longer be loveless. The witch disagreed but the wife would not be deterred.

"'What would you give up to have this child?' the witch asked after being pestered by the wife for almost a week. And the wife had said anything.

"'Anything is dangerous,' the witch said. 'I can give you the means to have a child, but the universe will decide the price.' And so, the wife agreed, and the witch pressed a folded piece of parchment into the wife's hand.

"When she finally returned home, she had been gone for eight long weeks. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and husband and wife reunited. Still, the wife waited three more months before preforming the ritual the witch had pressed into her palm.

"Soon, they had a child, a daughter. But with her arrival came the universe's price. A life blessing is not an easy thing to give, and the price for life is the highest to pay. Free Will was that price. And when the daughter turned three, she learned her daughter also paid the price. Her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, and her daughter's daughter's son. Forever more. The wife, now mother, was angry to learn this. Why should her child have to suffer for her own sins?

"She told her husband what she had done. She had to, you see, because how else could he be expected to raise a child that would do everything you told her to? Words would need to be picked carefully.

"It was years later before the mother could track the witch down again, to demand the witch undo the curse. 'I made the bargain, why must my child also suffer the consequences?'

"'You said anything,' the witch responded, 'and I told you that was dangerous. It was foolish of you to think your actions would not affect others. All actions do.'

"The mother said, 'can it not be undone?' and the witch said, 'All curses can be broken.' When the mother asked how, the witch just looked at her and said, 'go away, and do not seek me again.' And the mother had no choice but to obey."

Steve still has not stirred on her lap and when she looks down, she can see he is asleep. Even if Steve had stayed awake for the whole story, she knows she'll have to retell it to him when he's older. When he'll remember all of it. Perhaps she should write it down, too, just in case.

"You see, Steve, what was supposed to be a blessing became a curse. One of obedience. People will tell you to do things and you will be compelled to obey. You will become someone you will never truly know, because anyone can make you anything," she says as she stands and places Steve in his bed. "But don't worry. Mommy will teach you how to trick and cheat the curse as much as you can."

#my fic #Ella Enchanted but make it 1980s and angstier #so i guess its more Obedience Curse AU than Ella Enchanted #title is tentative and taken from the Citizen Soldier song Chasing Your Ghost #steddie #eventual steddie actually #but first it would be steve x suffering #it'll be a full fic one day but like... who knows when #i should not be starting a longfic while working on my longfic for the steddie bigbang #the hubris of a fic writer i guess haha let me know if anyone else is long suffering like me #no readmore because i think its short enough to not need one

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littlemissaddict · 1 year

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Santa's Lap (18+) - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: A trip to visit Santa doesn't go as planned so Eddie makes it up to her in the parking lot ⚠️ smut

Word Count: 1742

"I don't get why you're so disappointed that you got turned away" Eddie mumbled as she shuffled along next to him with her head down and shoulders slumped as she moaned.

"So I can't be excited about Christmas, about Santa because I know he's not real but the magic and excitement of this time of year is" she shot back, frustrated that Eddie was agreeing with the elves that she was too old to meet Santa.

"No I just don't get why you were so excited to sit on his lap" he replied with a roll of his eyes, as he reached forward to take a hold of her. The movement stops her in her tracks and she easily lets him pull her back into his body, his lips at her ear as he whispers teasingly, “Why sit on Santa’s lap when you can sit on mine?”

She can’t help the shiver that runs through her body as his words or the feeling of his lips gently brushing over the shell of her ear before they move down her neck where she can feel them pull up into a smirk. She hates how easy he can play her body especially as she was supposed to be annoyed with him and she hates that he knows it and uses it against her.

“Eddie stop” she breathes, though even she’s not convinced by her words and it’s not until she opens her eyes again and remembers where they are, that people are watching them that she finds the strength to finally pull away from him. “Stop people are watching” she scolds softly but links her hand with his as she pulls him along, away from other shoppers and the line for the fake santa that had caused all this in the first place.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks, a little confused to where he was being dragged along to.

“To your van so you can finish what you started” she replies simply, weaving in and out of crowds of people until she finally reaches the door to the parking lot, easily locating Eddie’s van and climbing into the back and pulling him in along with her.

“You sure you're going to be able to stay quiet?” he asks, amused at the determination on her face as he sits with his back against the back of the seats and guides her to sit in his lap.

“Are you?” she challenges, shifting her hips and rubbing down against the growing bulge in his pants. A soft moan leaves her lips at the action but she knows it’s nowhere near loud enough to be heard outside the van, though it still doesn’t stop the smirk that makes its way back onto his face. Wanting to wipe the smirk off his face she drops her head into the crook of his neck and presses kisses to the skin while she grinds her hips down onto his.

“I know what you’re doing sweetheart and it’s not going to work” he chuckles and though his words sound sure, the hands gripping her hips tighten their hold so she pushes him further, adding teeth to her kisses as she sucks and bites on his neck. It finally pulls a sound from him and even causes him to buck his hips up to meet her movements. “Now you’re in for it sweetheart” he chuckles, stopping the movements of her hips and undoing the button of her jeans, instructing her to stand so that they can get them off and then tapping her ass when she doesn’t move quick enough for him.

“Hey” she swats at his hands as she pulls her jeans down while encouraging him to get his own jeans off which he does but only enough to pull his cock free.

“Now get your pretty ass back down here” he laughs, reaching out his hands and pulling her down until she’s back on his lap, “You ready?” he asks, running the tip of his cock through her pussy, chuckling when she whines his name when he slowly pushes in, letting her slide onto him at her own pace until he’s fully inside her.

She begins to tilt her hips against him again, only this time with him buried inside her and reaching places he wasn’t before, it causes her to bite her lips to stop any sounds escaping that would let anyone passing by know just exactly what they’re doing. Considering it would be classed as public indecency it was in their best interests but knowing Eddie she should have known he’d try and push the limits and he does, dropping his head to her neck and letting his mouth work over the skin. He’s sloppy and wet with his kisses, unrelenting when he adds his teeth, determined to leave marks on her skin but when he reaches her ear it’s the dirty talk that makes her lose it.

“So needy for me princess that you couldn’t even wait for us to get home, you just had to have me in the back of the van” he’s breathless as he talks, the way she’s riding him was affecting him as well but that wasn’t going to stop him from making her feel good, “look at you, everyone thinks you’re so innocent when really you’re just a dirty little girl aren’t you, I mean taking my cock in public when anyone could find us, not something a good girl would do is it?”

The resounding moan she lets out echoes against the walls of the van and she knows that there is no way anyone passing wouldn’t have heard it. She whines his name, clenching around him but it only makes him chuckles, “Aw my dirty little girl is getting close huh, keep going, keep riding me just like that” he encourages, thrusting his hips up best he can in this position to help her along to her finish. She moans again, her hold on him tightening and he knows she’s not going to last much longer so he pulls out the big guns, sliding a hand from her waist and between their bodies until he finds her clit, rubbing circles over it as he slowly increase the pressure on it until her body tenses against him and he knows what's about to happen. “Come on princess, cum for me” he pleads as her body shakes, her eyes rolling back and her mouth opens in a silent scream as she cums.

Taking his hand from between them so as not to overstimulate her he places it back on her hip and he helps guide her as she comes down. Her body spent as she collapses against him, gasping for breath and it takes her a couple of minutes until she’s recovered enough to support her own body again, “You know, you were right” she chuckles, still a little breathless and he looks at her curiously, forgetting for a second that he’s still hard inside her as he waits for her to elaborate, “who needs Santa’s lap when I have yours” she smiles coyly which makes Eddie laugh, though it’s cut short when she lifts her body off him and he groans at the feeling of his cock sliding out of her.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you high and dry” she giggles, seeing the look in his eyes before she positions her body so that she’s nestled between his legs with her face inches from his cock. Slowly, she takes him in her hand and brings his tip to her mouth, looking up at him as she parts her lips and takes the tip into her mouth. Groaning at the taste of herself coating him as she hollows her cheeks and lets her hand slide up and down the length of him making him groan. His hands move to fist her hair as she works and he fights the urge to push her further down but when she moves her tongue over that sensitive part just under the head, he feels his vision go white as he cums without warning. His teeth biting his bottom lip as he tries his hardest not to be too loud as she works him through it.

With half lidded eyes he gazes down at her, watching as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand to get rid of the remaining spit and cum that coats her lips. “Remind me to get you this worked up everytime we’re out” he smirks as he pulls her up so that they’re face to face again before leaning forwards to kiss her, not bothered about the fact that she’s just had his cum in her mouth.

A banging on the back door of the van pulls them out of the kiss and their wide eyes meet each other as Eddie mumbles out curse words. He’s quick to help her up, following behind her as he tugs his jeans up his legs, throwing her a panicked look as he realises that she’s struggling to get her own jeans back on, knowing the longer they took the more suspicious they were going to look.

Finally when she was fully dressed, Eddie opened one of the doors to find one of the mall security guards standing there with an unimpressed look on his face, “We’ve had some complaints of strange noises coming from this van, is everything okay?” he asked and Eddie was quick to nod, not wanting to speak and somehow get them in trouble as he usually did for himself, “Just for future reference this is not the spot for a rendezvous so I’m going to kindly ask you to leave and we’ll leave it at that” the guard spoke giving Eddie a pointed look.

“Yes sir” Eddie saluted as the guard turned to walk away. Once the door shut he turned back to her with wide eyes that matched her own and they both burst out laughing at the ridiculous situation they’d gotten themselves into, “he totally knew what we were up to” he said between laughs.

“Let’s just be thankful he’s giving us a pass this time” she said, shaking her head in disbelief that they somehow weren’t in trouble, “but let’s do as he asked and get out of here” she added and Eddie agreed, ushering her to the front of the van so that they could do just that.

#littlemissaddicts blurbmass 2022 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie muson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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mushrubes · 1 year

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The Beach

Masterlist | The walking dead Masterlist

Requested : No

Song : The Beach - The Neighbourhood

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x reader (No use of Y/n)

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff + angst

Contents : mutual pinning, slightly canon divergent, best friends :)

Word count : 2k

Have a great day / night !!

----

If I told you that I loved you Tell me, what would you say?

His gaze was almost instantly on you, not moving off once as he watched you talk to Shane. He made his way over to the stables, mumbling about something to himself as he carefully opened the gate, undoing the rope that was keeping it tied up to the post. "Hey." you called, making him jump slightly. Daryl nodded, not responding with words as he carefully saddled the horse up.

"You leaving already?" you asked, slightly upset and worried for him. He had gotten back late last night and he'd had at least three hours of sleep - if he slept at all. "Gotta find 'er." he shrugged, his gaze lingering on you longer than it normally did. You frowned, reaching into your pockets and pulling something out while he watched in curiosity.

"Take this at least, so I know you have something." you instructed, handing him the bar as he hesitantly took it, looking back at you. "Be careful, " you mumbled as your hands brushed slightly, making you blush. "I...uh...yeah." he stumbled, lifting himself onto the horse as you helped them out.

Why couldn't he just tell you.

If I told you that I hated you Would you go away?

"Daryl!" you shouted, cutting his rant off. "Go, let me talk to him." you whispered, earning a worried look from Carol as she knew how Daryl was in situations like this. Once you had convinced her you'd be okay, you watched her disappear into the house with the others while you stayed with him. "Whaddya want?" Daryl grumbled, trying to turn away from you but you caught his wrist.

"It's not your fault." you assured, bracing yourself for his next words. He wasn't one to let his guard down easily, so it took some reasonable prying. However, like most people, it didn't always work and could sometimes anger him more so you were cautious with it. "Whatever. Jus' go away, don' even know why yer here, I hate yer." he grumbled, still ranting. You grimaced at his words, aware that he didn't mean it but it hurt nonetheless.

And it hurt him too. He hated it about himself sometimes. With the world having gone to shit, people like you were hard to come by, and here he was, being a dick. Perhaps it was one of the many reasons he felt comfortable with you, although he had never admitted that to anyone. Considering his family life and what he had to endure, never once did he think his life would end up like this. His walls were like a safety blanket, especially since Merle had left before the apocalypse. He'd been forced to toughen up, and now he struggled with letting anyone in. But you were patient, and no matter what, had time for him.

That was most likely why he was confused when you didn't leave him after he had said the words. You had stayed right by his side, sitting with him whether he opened up about what was bothering him, whether he apologised or let you in - it didn't matter. Too consumed in his thoughts, the pair of you were now sat on the porch stairs, not sharing words but still there for each other. The usual inches between the two of you were gone, bodies next to each other.

And when he intertwined his hand with yours, you didn't pull away.

Now I need your help with everything that I do I don't want to lie, I've been relying on you

His face softened as he realised it was you that called his name. "Come on a supply run with me, please? The only other option is Shane and..." you paused, Daryl wasting no time in getting up and putting his knife away before picking up his crossbow.

"C'mon." he assured, squeezing your shoulder as he walked past. He let you talk to Rick as he made his way to his bike, waiting for you on it. He chuckled as he watched you climb on, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his waist. "I don' bite, y'know." he teased, moving them further so your grip was tighter.

----

"I'm sorry for dragging you out with me." you sighed, walking around the building, looking for any supplies that you could bring back. Daryl paused, holding the jar in his hand as he turned to face you. "'m fine." he answered, putting the rest of the jars in the backpack as you sighed, not believing him. "You were out looking for Soph, it's selfish for me to bring you on runs with me all the time just because I rely on you." you huffed, sitting on the bar stool as you waited for him.

Truthfully, he would never let you know that he enjoyed the fact you always asked him to come with you. Knowing that he brought you security and a feeling of safety was all that he needed. Besides, you were friends, you'd do the same. Although it wasn't in the same way, he relied on you too in his own ways. You kept him sane, and calm when everything or everyone got too much for him sometimes. You (and Carol) were helping him realise that there was still good, he was safe to open up about his emotions if needed - it was okay to show them.

So in some ways, he relied on you just as much - he just hoped it was based off the same feeling.

Fallin' again

It had been a few months since the farm now, and the group of you have settled into the cleaned out prison. No one could ignore the world (the walkers were a constant reminder), but despite the building, there was a sense of normality in there. Even though it was nothing major, it felt like home, like the group had become a family. But perhaps, that had been due to certain people.

Daryl was sat at the table, eating the food that Carol had cooked with her while he watched the rest of the group interact. Specifically you. Carol smiled to herself knowingly as she watched him, his face gentle compared to normal. You were sat with Carl and Judith was in his arms, giggling as the pair of you made faces at her, taking it in turns to make her laugh.

He felt his cheeks heat up as you looked up, meeting his gaze as he was too late to look away. Instead of making the usual comment you'd make, digging at him, you moved to the side slightly, letting him have a better view of Judith before whispering to Carl. "Little Asskicker says hi!" you grinned, moving her arm in a waving motion as Carl held her upright. He shook his head, trying to hide his smile.

He was falling hard whether he liked it or not.

I need a pick-me-up

"Carol?" you called, looking in each cell you walked passed, looking for her. "In here!" she called, peering her head out of the cell that was one over. She opened her arms, letting you give her Judith, happily putting her into the box that was being used as a makeshift crib. The handwriting and doodles on the side made you chuckle, knowing Daryl had been the one to make it. "Do you know where Daryl is?" you asked, leaning against the frame.

"Is he not on the perch?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he normally sat on his mattress if he wasn't on duty. You shook your head as she looked at the table that was pinned to the wall. It was Glenn's turn to be on watch so he shouldn't have been in the watch tower either. "I'll ask Glenn, no worries." you sighed as she nodded, giving you a quick side hug.

Quickly, you moved down the stairs, looking around as you found people sitting in their little groups. "Maggie! Do you know-" you spoke as Glenn approached and cut you off, knowing what you were going to ask. "He's out on watch, and insisted on switching with me." he shrugged, a slight concern evident on his face. You thanked them before heading out, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down to warm your hands as you cursed the weather.

"Dar?" you frowned as you finished climbing up the ladder, seeing him sitting against the wall on the outside, knees folded up. He didn't say anything, looking up at you before staring back off into space. You sat down next to him, not prodding him to tell you what was going on in his head. The silence didn't bother you too much, letting you process everything that had happened. Maggie and Glenn being kidnapped, finding out Merle was still alive, meeting Michonne, Andrea being with the guy that was on your asses for the prison.

A choked sob came from Daryl, shaking his figure slightly. "I'm here." you whispered, moving your arm as he slowly moved, his knees coming down. You turned to face him, carefully wiping his tears away as he tried to calm down, internally cursing himself for being weak. He knew it was okay, that he was safe with you but there was always something just telling him it was wrong, that he was weak for it.

"I...I found Merle." he confessed, his voice cracking as you felt the colour drain from you. When he mentioned Merle the other times, whether it be stories or when Merle was with the group at the start, there was still a certain hint of some sort of joy in his voice or something, having a family member and his brother, his blood with him. But this time, it was pure pain, something clearly happened. And with the current state of everything, it wasn't exactly difficult to figure out what he was referring to.

"He was one of them. I...he lunged at me and I had to...to stab him." he got out, hands in fists as you ran your thumb up and down his hand. "Daryl.." you gasped, tears welling up yourself as you looked at him. He wasn't the nicest admittedly, but he was Daryl's family and he was important. If he was important to him, then you had a tolerance for him. Guilt swarmed as you wished you had gone with him, despite his protests anyway. "He sacrificed himself for Michonne, for us, for you. He knew." you tried to comfort him, letting him pull you in as he wrapped his arms around you.

You stayed like that for a while, not daring to move and giving him however long he needed, trying to comfort him with sweet nothings as well as yourself.

I've been callin' you friend, I might need to give it up

"When are you going to tell them?" Carol smiled, standing next to him with her arms crossed as he watched you. You were playing with Carl and some of the other kids you had brought in, running around with them in a game of tag. "Tell 'em what? We're friends." he grumbled, glaring at her as she raised an eyebrow, smirking at him. "You can't hide from me anymore, you know. I can see it in your eyes." she simply responded, heading back into the prison.

He stood there, deep in thought as her words rang through his head. They were just friends, right? Sure, he'd shared his tent with you on numerous occasions, let you come on his bike with him instead of going in the car with the others, be open with you and would be the first person to come to you if you got hurt or needed anything. And the fuzzy feeling he got when your hands brushed or intertwined and the heat that rushed to his cheeks when he'd see you looking at him or find him something he liked on runs didn't mean anything.

Maybe Carol was right, maybe he did need to stop lying to himself, but until he was sure you felt the same, he swore to himself to never say a word.

Part two | Part three

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hxlda-hxlda · 4 days

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black brothers... character study? microfic? i haven't a clue! but it exists!

The first time Sirius performed magic, he young, only two years old. Sirius had always felt the magic within him, as most wizards could. It welled in his veins and made his fingertips go all funny. Sometimes the magic would make him cry. Overwhelmed by a striking power he neither understood nor was able to expel, his body did the only thing it knew it could; to yell and to sob and to pound his funny-feeling hands into the ground until someone made it better. Occasionally, and worst of all, he could feel it in his feet, until Sirius was certain that his toes were turning blue with the way the magic smarted — making him itch, making him want to run and run and run some more, until the uncomfortable feeling went away. Sirius barely knew how to run at such a young age, but he had forced his early steps into bounds into sprints, if only to rid himself of the stinging pads of his own feet.

On this particular day, Sirius was two and a half, or maybe two and a three quarters, and Regulus was the ripe old age of one. Reggie was crying. More than crying, he was screaming. Wailing. Sirius wondered if Regulus could feel the magic in his toes too – if that was why he was causing such a fuss. But when he had tried to grasp at those tiny little feet the matron had merely pushed him away.

“You’re upsetting him, go sit in the corner.”

Sirius fidgeted in his corner as his brother continued to cry. He listened to the sound and winced when those yells were met with another, their mother who always grew irritated by Reggie’s crying.

“Shut that whining up!” she screeched from the other room. The matron nodded, despite the door being closed and Walburga being entirely unable to see her hurried affirmation.

The matron cooed at Regulus, using her wand to make the bat skeletons above the crib dance. Regulus screamed louder. Sirius wondered if it was because Regulus hated the skeletons just as much as he did. Matron tried and tried to get Regulus to quiet, but Reggie merely continued to cry and cry.

So, Sirius, after the third shout from his mother, decided he had to help. His toes tingling in the way that made him need to run, he ran toward the only person he already knew he wanted to run to rather than away from.

Sirius stumbled up to the crib, slipping under the matron’s legs and ignoring her cried “Sirius!” as he clutched at the bars of Regulus’ bed.

“Reggie,” he whispered. “Reggie, be quiet, please.”

The crying was silenced at once.

“Sirius!” The matron scolded again, forcing him back with a firm and wrinkled hand tugging at his shoulder. “Sirius, no!”

Sirius stared confusedly up, watching as the matron lifted baby Regulus from the cradle. He was still fidgeting with balled up fists and feet that kicked. Reggie was still crying – only, he wasn’t. He was silent. And yet, his eyes continued to spill tears and his mouth continued to bare his tiny little teeth, as though mid-shout. But there was no shout to be heard. He was quiet as the mice their older cousins would practise their hexes on.

“Sirius!” Matron chided. “I can’t undo the spell. Undo the spell, now!” she commanded.

Regulus squirmed some more, thrashing violently as though desperate to be heard; to be known and recognised even without a voice to make him so. Sirius watched this sobbing, tiny little thing with not a peep to be heard from the baby’s agape mouth.

Sirius was entirely, utterly puzzled at what he had supposedly done wrong. He did not yet understand that silence and safety were not the same. He’d only wanted Regulus to be safe.

They soon found he could not undo the accidental muffliato charm. They simply had to wait for it to wear, just as Regulus wore himself out. By the time it had dispelled, Regulus was asleep. Fitful as ever, still kicking — perhaps dreaming of running, Sirius thought — with tightly clenched fists.

Sirius slipped his pointer finger into Reggie’s hand once the matron left the room, watching as his unconscious brother clutched at him so tightly Sirius couldn’t have been let go to leave if he wanted to. Their mother did not shout again that evening, and neither did Regulus. Quiet drenched Grimmauld Place once more and they were safe all the same. Sirius did not understand how there could have been a difference.

He would understand, eventually.

When tearfully red eyes hardened into stern grey ones, just a bit bluer than Sirius’ own and deadly with their quietly piercing glares. When shouts turned to snide comments uttered from the very corner of Regulus’ downturned mouth, hissed in a spiteful whisper. When a simple concrete headstone refused to reply, not even when Sirius knelt at the grave and garbled nonsense for hours, not even to call him an idiot like he’d once so loved to do. But Sirius did not understand any of that, then. He only knew to wince when Regulus began to hiccup – a sign that he was about to cry. He only knew that it made his toes twinge with the magic that made him want to run, run, but Reggie was too young to even walk and running would mean having to leave his little brother behind. Sirius only knew that if he willed it hard enough the magic would leak from his tingling fingers and rest heavy in the room. Like moisture in humid air it burdened them, slightly suffocated them, muffled the brothers to silence and kept them safe.

#sirius grows to be loud in his rebellion for a reason #this is the reason #aha we have fun here #sirius black #regulus black #black brothers #marauders #writing tag

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snowbellewells · 1 month

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CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Four

I am more than a little embarrassed and sorry about how long it has taken me to update this story. It was never my intention to keep you waiting so long. However, here at long last is an update, and I hope to have another one to you this week yet - and this to be more regular (at least close to weekly) in the future. Thank you THANK YOU to those who have been patient and stayed interested in this story. I hope you will enjoy this new chapter!

Thank you as ever to the @cssns for running such a wonderful event that I have always been thrilled to be part of. And thank you for the gorgeous fic cover art to @eastwesthomeisbest and to @xarandomdreamx for the massively encouraging beta reading and thoughtful comments.

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Four: No Use Running Anymore

Killian Jones felt his own breath rasping frighteningly in his lungs, barely forcing its way raggedly through his chest as he watched Emma shuddering in his loose embrace, her whole body trembling and the gaze in her eyes glassy and faraway. It scared him, the intensity of the power which had taken her over - beyond either of their control - and he wasn’t sure what to do to help her. He could keep her from collapsing to the ground and lying there boneless in the dark, from hitting her head or flailing her arms, but Killian was at a loss as to how he might reach her wherever she had retreated to in her mind.

Finally, drawing in a sharp gasp for oxygen, Emma’s lungs seemed to fill, and she began to breathe more normally, her eyes were on her trembling hands and she edged far enough away that there was some distance between them, as if embarrassed at having leaned on him and letting him witness her what she’d just gone through. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and it was clear she still felt uncertain and off balance; the weak tremor still running through her limbs as the after effects were visibly obvious. And yet it was the haunted pain clouding her eyes that held him captive, unable to blink, move, or even look away - though he could sense she would like him to do so. Emma might be able to read most of the folks around her and think to hide her own thoughts and feelings, but to him she was an all-too-open book.

At least somewhat assured that she was herself again, well on the way to recovering her breath and her composure, Killian’s mind returned to her staggering revelation without any conscious effort on his part. “Emma… what you said… about Rose’s killer? What did you mean?” he questioned gingerly. His dark brows lowered over his eyes intently, studying her with a concerned but necessary focus. “You said she wasn’t the only one.”

Looking up to meet his searching gaze, Killian could see Emma’s reluctance, and he hated himself for pressing her, even as he knew she needed him to do so. Still, the film of tears he saw in her green eyes and the way one spilled over the lower lid and trailed down her cheek, was almost his undoing; he bit back words rescinding the question with all the force he could muster. This was important, painful or not. Though he knew Emma had to recover, and that she had lived with her abilities - her “sight” - being pushed aside, ignored, belittled, even persecuted, all her life, there was a reason she could see the things she did. Her supernatural knowledge could help as well as hurt. He knew she had used it for just such a purpose in the years she had been gone. He might not have found the right time to tell her yet, but he had followed her successes in Boston, devouring each news story of the “psychic” - he could just see her huff of disbelieving annoyance at the catch-all term too - who could find missing people when all others had lost hope. He had cherished each article of a child found, holding every tidbit of praise for her close to his chest. He didn’t know how things had fallen apart in Boston, or what exactly had brought Emma back to Storybrooke, but he mourned the scars of youth that still lingered in her bearing. A part of him had never stopped hoping she might one day return, but he would never have wished for her to remain so alone and so haunted.

Her trembling fingers caught at his suddenly, as he moved to brush her hair from her flushed cheek, and she held on tight, needing his steadiness like a lifeline in a howling gale. Those wide, emerald orbs were searching his as if not sure what to make of his question. “W-what did you just ask me?” she murmured, voice fragile as a butterfly’s wing on the still night air amidst the crickets chirping and bullfrogs calling from ponds hidden in the trees at their backs.

Was she really so used to being doubted? After so many times she had saved lives, provided answers no one else could, and proven herself over and over, was it still that much of a shock to be taken seriously? Killian was ready to follow her lead, to charge into action at her back, once she had her bearings again and he was sure she would be alright.

“You aren’t going to ask how I know? Where the pictures come from? If - If I’m sure they’re real?”

He shook his head gently, never breaking eye contact with her for a second. This was important, and he needed her to see he meant every word. “Of course not, Lass,” he finally answered, words calm but sure. “I’ve known you all my life and have never known you to lie - or to be wrong in the visions you’ve seen… no matter how they might hurt.”

Looking down at their joined hands, their fingers now intertwined as he held onto her just as tightly. “No questions asked?” she mumbled dazedly, as though encouraging herself to take him at his word. “Really? Just like that?” And when she raised her face to meet his eyes again, there were still the shining tracks of tears on her cheeks, but they were no longer falling; she had blinked them away and a look of willful determination was taking over her features. “Why?” was all she whispered then, staring at him so open and raw it seemed as if she wanted to drink in his every word. “Why would you do that?”

Killian brought their joined hands up to his lips, bowing his dark head slightly over them as he hardly dared breathe, pausing to make sure she wouldn’t pull away before pressing the softest pursing of his lips to her knuckles and holding them there, breathing warmth against her skin. “Because, Emma, as I said… I know you. Love and trust, even basic kindness, have been all too rare in your life. People have always treated you a certain way - the wrong way - doubting you, hurting you, using you until they don’t need you anymore, and then throwing you away.” He wet his lips, trying to gather his nerve and praying he wasn’t about to say more than he should - or that he hadn’t done so already - then plunged on. “I aim to be different. I’m right here with you for the long haul, if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, Emma seemed frozen, stunned beyond response, but she finally shook her head wonderingly and offered him a tremulous smile, still clutching his hand but moving to stand, which he did as well, then helped her up beside him. “How did you…?” she finally asked breathily.

A crooked smile pulled at one corner of his mouth as Killian sighed, gingerly moving to tuck her hand in the crook of his elbow and guide her back toward his truck, still idling on the rough shoulder of the quiet country road. “I know that lost look in your eyes all too well,” he explained as best he could while he helped her with the high step up into the cab. “Our circumstances may be different, but the feeling is the same. We’ve both been lost for too long.”

He closed the door with those words, but Emma caught at his sleeve through the open window, keeping him in place before he could round the front of the vehicle. “Thank you,” she whispered - only two small words, but full of meaning. She would take the support, the belief in her, he was offering. She had been fully prepared for him to back away, to be too discomforted by what the visions did to her for him to stick around. She’d experienced more people like that in her life than she could count or even remember. But instead, Killian had witnessed the flashes of horror and darkness sweep over her, seen how much it took out of her and he was still standing right there looking at her the same way he always had. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Rose had been the only person who truly seemed able to understand the magnitude of her gift and curse and was always there trying to help in any way she could. It made a poetic sort of sense that her brother might do the same.

“We have to look into this, Killian. If Rose w- wasn’t the only one…” she stumbled at the thought of her friend’s pale, bruise-mottled limbs against the muddy ground that morning so long ago, swallowing down the nausea in heaving gulps. “If her killer’s kept on all this time… I should have known. I should have done something…”

Tremors seized her once again until Killian pulled her into his chest, holding her tight until she steadied, and then pulling back just enough to firmly cradle her cheeks in both hands, pulling her focus back before she could sink into the void grappling to pull her under. “Hey, no, none of that,” he coaxed firmly, holding her steady until she nodded her assent. His own heart was beating against the confines of his chest, but he would calm it later; Emma needed his certainty. “We’ll figure it out, Swan. I promise you that. If you’ve seen there are others we need to find, Love, then that is exactly what we’ll do.”

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Early evening dusk had come to rest lightly on the rumpled covers, smushed pillows, and his clothes tossed haphazardly all around the room when Dr. Graham Hunter blinked back into awareness near the dinner hour. Groggily, he berated himself for dozing off so early while attempting to piece together why he had stripped stark naked and went to bed before even having any supper. Then, his brain caught up with him, and he sighed, Ruby’s arrival in his office downstairs, her seduction and his weakness in falling for it once again, all coming back to him in a rush. He scrubbed a tired hand down his face and felt the weight of realization pressing heavily on his shoulders - even before he turned to look at the pillow beside him and his hand reached out for her to find empty space.

He was a fool. When it came to Ruby, he always had been, Graham admitted to himself as he rolled over with a frustrated curse, allowing himself a whiff of her decadent camelia perfume and honeyed musk on the pillow before flinging it away with a growl. How he fell into this pattern with her - crawling to her on his knees when she crooked her finger or batted an eye his way, and then waking up alone and picking up the pieces of his shattered dignity when she vanished (and she always did) - he wasn’t quite sure. He had fallen for it years ago, and yet somehow, despite knowing better, he was still such a lovesick pup over her that he settled for the scraps she offered him every time.

A noise downstairs caught his attention suddenly, breaking into the well-known litany of shame and self-recrimination. Maybe her trying to slip out unnoticed had been what woke him from his doze. Without pausing to think or second guess, Graham vaulted out of bed, pulled on the track pants he’d draped over the chair in the corner after his morning run, and pounded down the stairs, intending to catch Ruby before she made her quick exit. Fueled by angry hurt and adrenaline, he could only think she wasn’t going to get off quite so easily this time.

He caught her with her fingers grasping the door handle, her wicked heels held tightly in her other hand; her intentions blatantly clear. At his strangled call of her name - sounding a far sight more desperate than he’d meant for it to - she whipped around with a guilty, wide-eyed look painted across her face as she stared back at him over her shoulder. Neither of them moved or spoke for several long moments; Graham because he was practically vibrating with desperation, hurt, and anger in equal measure, Ruby seemingly waiting to see what he would do.

‘Or figuring out if she could sweet talk her way back into his good graces,’ his more realistic inner voice chided. ‘Had he still not learned how ridiculous he was to hope for anything else from her?’ Trying to steel his heart against the natural inclination to charm and cajole her back upstairs, to try to get her to stay while he made supper and to spend the evening together - just spend time with him out of bed, actually allow him to get to know her, or even show that she could want something more from him than the occasional physical thrill he could provide.

Before he could find a way to put any of this into words, Ruby tilted her head slightly, a guarded and slightly embarrassed half smile pressing a sweet little dimple into her cheek as she prepared to wheedle her way out of the awkward spot, just as he had predicted.

“Hey there, Handsome,” she crooned, the smile growing when he didn’t interrupt, clearly gaining confidence in her comfortable and familiar ploy. She let her graceful fingers release the door, her hand falling back to her side as she took a step closer to him. “Sorry if I woke you. I wanted to let you rest, even though I got a call and had to head out. No reason you shouldn’t be able to enjoy a break. You work hard enough, you’ve definitely earned it.”

Damn her for knowing exactly what she was doing to him! Graham swallowed hard as Ruby stood before him coyly biting her lower lip and staring up at him through her lashes innocently. One brightly lacquered red nail traced up along his bare chest between his pecs, and he struggled not to flinch, not to let the way his body immediately reacted to her touch be known.

But, of course, she did know what a word, a look, the slightest caress of hers could do to him. He had allowed her to play him like a fiddle too many times before for her to be convinced now by feigned indifference. Graham clenched his fists, closing his eyes for a moment and praying for strength, before catching her wrist and removing her hand from his chest, holding her gaze determinedly as a muscle in his jaw flexed with his aggravation and the amount of restraint it took not to pull her into his arms and give into her playful touch, pretend to buy the poor excuses and give into her charms. He didn’t want to force the coming confrontation; he knew it was going to hurt and likely wouldn’t end in any way he would hope for. Yet, he couldn’t go on blindly like this either - not anymore. He could only hope, deep down somewhere, as he barely allowed himself to wish in his quietest, most raw moments, that she needed more too, that she did care for him more than she wanted to admit. Maybe - just maybe - if he forced her into honesty, she might grasp it and open herself up rather than let him go.

“Please,” he managed to choke out, his voice rasping, but steadier than he had feared it might sound. “Just stop with the excuses,” he pressed on, hating the way her eyes clouded with hurt, those ridiculously big, liquid brown eyes he usually couldn’t deny a thing. “We both know there was no phone call. You just wanted to get out of here before I woke up and tried to get you to stay, to really be here with me longer than it takes for a romp and to scratch your itch. I’ve done a poor job of showing it,” he hurried on, seeing she was about to interrupt, “but I’m not a puppy to trail along behind you and be at your beck and call. You know how I feel about you, Ruby; I’ve been more than half in love with you since we were about ten years old. But I can’t live on scraps anymore. No matter how much…” The words back up and he shook his head angrily, turning his face from her when she reached out to him again.

He’d heard her gasp sharply at his declaration, but she too was shaking her head, a lone tear running down her cheek. There had never really been much hope left within him that she could give him what he needed; she wasn’t ready, or wouldn’t allow herself. The expression on her face and the tension in her long, lean frame - poised to run - told him all he needed to know.

Finally, his eyes dropped to the floor, no longer even wanting to look at her and think of all they could be together, and what he would never have. With a final exhalation of defeated breath, he gave her his terms. “Don’t sneak in here like this anymore, knowing how I feel about you, when you plan to sneak back out again with the sunrise and not give me anything of yourself in return. I can’t do it anymore.”

Ruby’s breath caught on a ragged inhale, as if she were gathering herself to argue with him and then the words fled her in the face of his honesty. He knew if he met her gaze it would be glossed over with unshed tears, panic covering her features at losing the passion and connection they had always shared, but unable to expose her true self - her psyche, her heart, her soul - to keep him. He forced himself to hold his resolve; if he allowed her pain to catch at him, he knew he would have to comfort her. It was who he was, and where his weakness had always been when it came to Ruby Jones.

“Graham…” she finally whispered shakily, her voice a wavering breath not much like the silken purr she usually employed. “I can’t - you don’t understand - “

But he cut her off, gently taking a step back, a safer distance away from her before he crumbled and gathered her up in his arms. “I understand more than you think, Ru. You’re not the careless, untouchable vixen you try to play. There’s more to you, more than anyone else has bothered to see, more than you let show. I want that for you… and for us. And I can’t keep tearing myself apart hoping while nothing ever changes.”

Her shoulders slumped as she saw that his mind was made up, and she blinked moisture from her lashes quickly, biting her lip in determination that she wouldn’t be hurt enough to cry. “You’ll regret this, Graham. You know that, right? Can’t the fact that you are special to me, that I always come back to you, be enough?”

“Not this time, Ruby,” he murmured, sorry already, even as he spoke, but still adamant that he deserved more than the dregs of her attention, even if that meant she left his arms forever.

“You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Hunter,” she commented sadly, one last plaintive attempt at banter with a half-hearted smile that died before the upward curve of her lips was completed. “Ever think maybe you’re asking too much of me?”

But he shook his head slowly, studying her intently now - in a way that didn’t allow her to avoid him. “No, I don’t.” He spoke softly, deliberately, intoning the words that he genuinely believed. “For far too long, I haven’t asked enough. There is so much more within you, Ruby Jones. A capacity for love and greatness that you refuse to let yourself experience. I know that… whether you can see it yet or not.”

She shook her head regretfully, mouth twisted in a sort of grimace. “Then you may need to have your head examined,” she retorted, her hand on the door again.

With her almost gone, and not knowing when he would see her again, or be able to speak with her or touch her, or smell the sweetly ripe and enticing scent of the shampoo she used on that silky mahogany curtain of hair, Graham panicked a bit and recklessly reached out, clutching her upper arms and pulling her just close enough to press his lips to her forehead and breathe her in once more, knowing it might have to hold him indefinitely. He almost took it all back, but clung to his pride by the very tips of his fingers.

“You know, I’ll be here… right?” he murmured, breath hot across the skin of her brow. “If you ever decide you want to make a real go of this…”

Ruby had her pride too though, and that wildness and fear which twined together to keep her running and at enough of a distance from everyone that she had convinced herself she couldn’t be hurt. Tall and as elegant as a statue, that poise trained into her since she could walk, she let out a watery chuckle. “You had your chance,” she warned, trying for offhanded nonchalance. Though it fell far short of her mark, she didn’t back down. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.” She pushed the door open and slipped out of the clinic as quickly and quietly as she had appeared hours before.

Sadly, Graham sighed as he raked his hand through his disheveled curls before bowing his head in defeat. It hadn’t seemed that he had another choice, and yet in the moment he felt as though he had just made the worst possible mistake… and lost something he might never get back.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Once she’d left Graham’s clinic, Ruby found herself wandering aimlessly. Of course she’d returned to her snazzy little car and rummaged around in the duffle she’d stashed in the back for a more normal and less blatantly seductive outfit. She didn’t have any trouble wriggling into it in the backseat undetected. It was a slow, sleepy, late afternoon in a small town, creeping toward dusk, and there was no one in sight. However, by the time she had finished and settled herself back in the driver’s seat, Ruby was sniffing back tears and angrily wiping the silent tracks of those which had already escaped down her face. ‘Why did he have to ruin everything?’ ran on a fuming, repetitive loop in her head, crying out against her desire to shrug it off as if it didn’t matter that much anyway. They’d had some good times, and he was a catch, sure, but Graham Hunter wasn’t irreplaceable she tried to convince herself. ‘He wasn’t happy with her in his bed? Fine. He’d be sorry once he’d been without for a little while.’

The rant she was trying to build up in her head sounded good, but she couldn’t put any feeling behind it - not really. She wasn’t even fooling herself. Graham was different from the other men she had charmed, toyed with, and strung along for a time. He always had been. She simply hadn’t wanted to admit that truth, and now it was boring its way into the center of her chest with all the strength of a drill bit. ‘How in hell had that happened?’ She’d sworn she wouldn’t give a real damn about anyone - not since even her own parents couldn’t be bothered to save a care for her. ‘How did he sneak through the cracks?’

‘Because he does care about you,’ a chiding but concerned voice that sounded a lot like how she remembered Rose’s whispered in her mind. He was there before you tried to lock everyone out, it added, and she shook her head, trying to scatter the unwanted reminders. With a growl of frustration, she swung back out of the little two-seater, noticing vaguely that though Storybrooke did not look very lively there were several small shops heading back toward the town square that had not yet closed for the day. ‘A distraction,’ she decided firmly, with a sharp dip of her chin and squared shoulders. ‘Take my mind off it for a minute, and before long, he’ll be in my rearview.’ The self-comfort rang a bit hollow, but she was already loping down the sidewalk with purpose, looking for something to catch her fancy.

The Sweet Shoppe on the corner had their door open, allowing a decadent and enticing scent of buttery pastry to drift out to passersby. Ruby grinned, cheered at least a little by the prospect of flaky layers of cinnamon sugar, crackly baked dough and butter in one of their famous pinwheels. One of those treats certainly wouldn’t right all that had gone wrong since she’d woken in Graham’s second story apartment an hour ago, but it surely couldn’t hurt, and she was grinning in spite of the hollow ache which had settled beneath her breastbone by the time she opened the door and entered the shop to the sound of the little bell above it chiming merrily.

Sure enough, she did feel rejuvenated after biting into the freshly-made and still warm delicacy. By the time she stepped back out of the bakery onto the sidewalk - one pinwheel happily devoured after practically melting in her mouth, and another bagged up for later in her hand - things didn’t look quite so bleak.

As Ruby headed on down the sidewalk, slowly starting to convince herself - for the time being at least - that she was recovering her equilibrium, she found herself reaching Emma Swan’s new store front, the displays in her window truly beginning to look much like a big city gallery and the potted flowers out front on the walk looking nearly ready for the upcoming grand opening. Some old, deep-seated pettiness stirred at first, as her dark eyes took in the signs of Emma’s determination not to quit - every bit as stubborn as any of the Joneses, too much so to back down, no matter who tried to keep her away.

But the longer she stood there on the pavement hopefully out of sight of anyone who might be inside since she was standing there gawking like she’d been frozen in place, Ruby couldn’t muster up the indignation and hateful bitterness she’d harbored before. Much as she had been hopeful to at last please her mother with her compliant agreement, or continue to feel hurt and jealous over the kinship Emma Swan had shared with her lost twin, the anger just wouldn’t come. In hindsight, with the light of day and the wisdom of years in between, she knew that Rose’s murder, the horror of that nightmarish day lost in the muggy, strangling soup of that long, horrible summer had not been Emma’s fault. In many ways, Emma had been another victim; one who kept being punished instead of laid to rest.

Despite the messes she had already made that day, Ruby determined that she was going to stop following the chosen family line. She would never earn Cora Jones’ elusive approval anyway, so why should she continue making herself and others miserable in pursuit of it? She had just reached out to try the door, just in case Emma was there, when the woman herself pulled into a parking space and exited the ancient VW that Ruby actually remembered her leaving town in years ago.

“Ruby Jones?” Emma questioned, her brow knit in concern as she moved to stand beside her on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?”

Ruby shrugged a bit sheepishly, with what she hoped was a convincing smile. She wasn’t about to admit all that she’d just been thinking, and so she was at a loss for how to explain her presence.

“You can’t think I’m crazy enough to leave the place unlocked, surely?” Emma queried, moving the bag she carried to the opposite arm and fishing a ring of keys from the bag at her side. “Not with how many people hate me setting up shop here. Speaking of, wouldn’t egging the place be a little simpler than trying to break in?”

She quirked a challenging brow at Ruby, but also waited patiently for an answer, standing in the opened doorway as the warm air drifted through around them. And Ruby had to give her that one; she had never dropped even a single hint that she would simply pay Emma a friendly visit.

Finally relocating her usual sass, she winked, slipping in the door on Emma’s heels before the other woman could change her mind. “Nah, that’s for the riff raff. I can do better than egging if I really want to make my point.”

“I bet you can,” Emma drawled, looking bemused by the whole situation.

Rather than saying anything else for a moment, Ruby roamed around the small but beautifully arranged space, taking in all that Emma had done to make the building her own and have it looking its best. She couldn’t help being drawn in by the photographs themselves as well. While she might have been too hardheaded to acknowledge it before, her eyes were open now to recognize that Emma Swan truly had a gift - one for capturing her subjects in a way Ruby had never seen the like of before.

Emma, meanwhile, had moved to the counter to deposit her things and turned to watch Ruby Jones with genuine curiosity. Not speaking, she merely observed, wondering what had changed to bring a self-appointed enemy to her doorstep, seemingly anxious to play nice. Someone could have knocked her over with a feather, as the old saying went, when Ruby suddenly turned with a broad smile from where she’d stopped to study a huge canvas bearing a close-up of a single, stunning, blood-red azalea blossom as its focal point. Some sort of mischievous glint was in her eye that Emma didn’t fully understand until she asked, “Any chance you’d sell this one to me before your official opening? It’s just the thing my mother ought to have for her birthday.”

Too startled to catch the surprised snort of laughter that escaped at Ruby’s words, Emma slapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. The brunette vixen she had always somehow felt was looking down her nose at her, looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, her pearly white smile broadening even more to look sharp and dangerous as well as alluring.

When she thought herself capable of calm speech instead of disbelieving laughter, she met Ruby’s eye and replied, “Oh, that can certainly be arranged, especially for such an illustrious recipient as your mother.” Emma was capable of her own sweet as pie with steel beneath expression, and she employed it now with a stealthy smirk of her own that made Ruby’s eyes widen in their turn. “Of course, I might have to charge you extra for not letting me be there to see her face when you gift her with one of my photos.”

The deal was struck, and somehow the unexpected exchange between them was healing. Nothing more needed to be said, but the years of avoiding one another, skirting painful history and old grudges, were past, and a weight fell from both their shoulders. They were two completely different people, with very different experiences and unique wounds to bear, but the one person they both had in common, and the fierce, proprietary love each had held for her - which had always stood between them - had brought them together at last. Just as Rose had always wished. As they laughed at their own impudence, and the vision of Cora’s affronted face when she realized the full import of the present, Emma gift wrapped the large frame, and Ruby gladly paid her for her first sale. Emma could almost feel her old friend’s presence over her shoulder and the echo of Rose’s sweet voice cheering her on.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

He’d nearly gotten caught that morning, lingered almost too long as the dawn’s first rays spread across the sky, bringing light and warmth to the the early gray and beginning to dry the dew on the grass. ‘Should have remembered the little hellcat can’t sleep through the night! Never has been able to!’ he cursed to himself as he awkwardly lunged into the deep underbrush a few feet from the porch. He felt damned lucky she’d chosen to come back to the little cabin of horrors so close to the woods, and so secluded from any neighbors… That could have been a fine end to things before they could really get going - and he’d bided his time far too long already, been more patient than a man should rightly have to bear - to get caught with his hand in his pants on her front porch and blow everything he’d worked for. She’d go running then - just like she’d done before.

Emma Swan would not escape him a second time. Just as they had been all those years ago, all the points were aligned, but now he was ready and prepared - he wouldn’t allow her to slip from his trap. Still, he needed to be careful… couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Dark, hungry eyes watched from the safety of the trees as the screen door flew open and his quarry dashed across the porch, down the rickety steps and into her car. He drank in her curves like a wino would savor the first sip from a hard-won bottle. Hard again, he gritted his teeth before succumbing to the empty pleasure of his own hand. ‘Not much longer,’ the mantra repeated in his head. ‘Not much longer, and she will be mine.’

It was almost too easy; she had stepped into his web better than he could have planned, more naturally than he had dared to hope. It wouldn’t pay to get overconfident, but he could feel everything falling into place.

Oh, he could bide his time a little longer - after all, he’d waited this long - but soon she would be within his grasp. Just the two of them, and no one near enough to interrupt, or be any the wiser. She wouldn’t be able to run from him then.

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