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#inlovewithhisblueeyes
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Lee Bodecker
Cheating
🧡 “You don’t want me? Don’t lie to me.”
Pretty please 🥹
muahahahahahha yes
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All the right questions
Warnings: dubcon, alcohol consumption, angst, cheating on both sides, being addicted to one another even though you know it's bad for you, getting sorta caught, pushy!Lee, implied smut (past and future), this got a little The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia, unedited
Relationship: soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x Fem!Reader
The liquor burned. You should have stopped drinking an hour ago and gone home. Your husband, for all his bullshit, will have called your office by now and the switchboard will have told him nobody was there.
But it would have been the same question as always. 'You makin' dinner before or after cards?' Never questions of when will you be home, you alright honey, you missin' me as much as I'm missin' you right now?
Lee asked all the right questions. Had from the first night at his wife's platter party. Everyone had too much to drink, your husband had been out back smoking one of his nasty cigars with a few of the other men. Florence, or Jane-Lee's wife, was in the kitchen with a few of her friends. You weren't exactly sure how it was just you and Lee in the front room. But for a whole 15 minutes, it was just the two of you, completely absorbed. His hand on your knee with your eyes glued to his pink flushed lips.
And 15 minutes was all it took for the addiction to set in. That little moment, when you had his absolute attention was all you needed to be swayed. Bumping into each other became phone calls and whispers became lunches and kissing in alleys became quick and dirty fucks whenever you could get it.
Except she knew now. Lee's wife. You refused to learn her name, make her a real person because it ruined the illusion, the sneaking around. You were calling it off now. She didn't know it was you, Lee just called saying she found a pair of your panties in his cruiser. Your stomach had dropped into your shoes and you immediately went to the bar. The truth getting out would ruin your lives.
In the beginning, the risk of being caught and the knowledge that you both belonged to someone else was thrilling. It made everything feel stronger, the fucking and the emotions alike. Made the whispers over the phone and in the back seat all the more romantic. You couldn't tell which way was up and that suited you. There was never any of the politics either, you didn't have to act a certain way and neither did Lee.
You drained your martini and stumbled out of the bar. The walk home would clear your mind and being alone is what you really need. Maybe you should take stock of yourself and really think about what you were going to do with your future. Break up with Lee was only going to be the first step.
Speak of the devil though, and he'd likely appear. The cruiser was parked right there in your drive when you got home. Lee leaned against your front porch smoking a cigarette. His gaze dropped to you and your tummy feels like butterfly and spun sugar even though you wish it didn't anymore. He stubbed out his smoke on your porch railing and threw the butt in the bush like it was no big deal.
"Sheriff." You gripped your bag tight and tried to squeeze by the man.
"Honey, you know what callin' me that does. Don't get me started before we can talk." Lee grabbed your arm, keeping you trapped on your pork for all the world to see.
"There ain't nothing to say." You glared at him, tried to muster up as much as anger as you could. "We ain't nothing."
His fingers flexed, gripped your soft flesh hard as he gave you a shake. Before you could yank yourself free, he was on you. His lips, the ones your whole body has memorised, smashed against yours. Lee's other hand wrapped your nape to keep you locked to him. Not that you'd really fight him. Your knees were on the verge of buckling and your mouth was already opening up, letting his tongue lick and stroke against yours. As much as you knew how calling him sheriff riled him up, that hand at the back of your neck made all the sense leave your body.
"Don't lie to me, darlin'. Don't you ever fuckin' lie to me." His ragged breath fanned over your cheek. "This ain't nothing?"
He kissed you again, pressed your whole body back against your front door. Lee's body was warm and giving, his soft belly and his smooth cheeks plain perfection. Without thought your hands went to his belt, your fingers following muscle memory more than you will. Your body was ready for him, always ready for Lee to fuck you, own you in away you had needed for so long. Your mind just needed to forget about that day.
"I don't want this." You said the words anyway. The lie was sour on your tongue, but you couldn't stop it from pouring out.
"Honey." Lee's voice turned almost sickly sweet, a touch condescending and patronising that should make your blood boil but all it did was make you ache. His hands rucked up your skirt until his fingers rubbed the damp spot in your panties. "You don't want this? Then why is my pussy so fuckin' wet for me right now?"
Your only answer was to let him in, into your head, into your house, into the bed your husband shared with you every night. It didn't matter what he said, or what you did. No matter how rough Lee fucked you, claimed your mind, body, and soul, you would never be his. You would never be Lee's wife because then you'd just be waiting for the other woman to appear. The newer model of you. Lee would never be your husband because then you'd fall into the same problems now. The spark would die and you'd be trapped in a marriage you regretted. You didn't belong to each other, truly, and that's what made these highs so worth it. That's what made the fear and hurt worth the risk. The spark of something different.
You didn't hear the slamming of the car door over the sound of the mattress. Your moans only grew louder the closer you got to cumming. You were so close. Harder, harder, harder.
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priceseyes · 5 days
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51 and 60 for OTP asks
MADIIII!!!! thank you for sending these in <333 makes me happy. So, I'm going to go for my wasteland lovers (fallout) pairing on these two asks: lucy/charlie/cooper.
51. What's a non verbal way they say I love you? Good question! For Charlie, she uses a lot of physical touch to communicate with both Lucy and Cooper without having to say much but I think one particular move is squeezing ones shoulder softly. I think her touch alone just tells them already how much she loves them and so her doing that to either of the two is just a special way to say "I love you" to them. I think another little bonus one would be a pat on the back, usually geared towards Cooper, that's another little non verbal "I love you".
For Lucy, hers is the cutest imo! She goes in for a cheek kiss with the two. No matter what is they're doing or whatever, Lucy goes for a cheek kiss and it's just a simple way to say, again, "I love you".
Cooper is a hardened man and I know some might see this as being a bit OOC but, remember, he's grown to show his soft side around the girls. anyway, for Cooper, forehead kisses are his non verbal go to way of saying "I love you" to the girls and he's so soft about it! Especially when no one's looking.
60. Who pulls the other close when they're sleeping? I feel like it all simultaneously changes haha because I see it as Cooper and Charlie being the big spoons and Lucy being a little spoon although, she has been the big spoon before. I think most of the time, though, it's Charlie who does it. That sounds like a VERY biased answer but I think she would the most, though there are times where Lucy has done the same to both Charlie and Lucy! haha.
thanks again for the asks, madi!! Obligatory OTP Asks.
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evansbby · 1 year
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Ex hubby Ari gets his baby wife a new rings when he finally convinces her to remarry him. I’m thinking he might also want her to get a tattooed one as well
Yep, definitely will want her to get a tattoo once she’s officially his again—just so she knows never to leave him again and so every other man knows she’s his property😌 I’m thinking he also tattoos his initials above her crotch, as well as the inside of her ring finger😌
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moonlitinks · 1 year
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When I need a good cry, I reread over the first three chapters of hoax. My poor baby is hurting and I just wanna give her a hug and protect her
WHO HURT YOU SO THAT YOU NEED A GOOD CRY
lmao but honestly i do appreciate it though haha, a good cry is really needed sometimes. <3
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biteofcherry · 11 months
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Squeeeeeeeeeze!!! You've been given a hug! Send this to all the people who deserve a hug. See how many you get back 😊 Now let the hugging begin! 💜
Thaaaank you 🥰😘
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pvnkesttt · 6 months
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Love you!
🦇👻🎃💀
LOVE YOU MORE, MADI!
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eldarwen333 · 1 year
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🎬📺 Share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order 🎮🃏 Then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice)
Thank you for the ask, Madi 🤗 I find this so hard 😅 it's like I forget everything I like...
Aragorn - The Lord of the Rings
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Dr Daniel Jackson - Stargate SG-1
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Jessica Rabbit - Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
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Ariel from The Little Mermaid
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Saphira - Eragorn trilogy (don't watch the movie, it's shit)
Brad Wolgast - The Passage trilogy by Justin Cronin
Jesper - Shadow & Bone
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Tyrion Lannister - the Game of Thrones
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Clark Kent/Superman
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Richard Castle - Castle
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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year
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🍃🌺🌙 If you receive this you make somebody happy. Go and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get it back even better🌙🌺🍃
Thank you Madi for thinking of me!
I hope you had a wonderful day and an amazing weekend 🥰
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onsunnyside · 2 years
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One of this days I’m going to get you on that sweet sweet Cannibal Daddy Kemp train
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oh bestie I’ve been on that dirty daddy secretly 🫡 shh
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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@inlovewithhisblueeyes love u bestie <333 im here rallying up the troops for y’all
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themotherofblood · 11 months
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two swords, three holes | d.t x h.s x reader | smut
synopsis: two bisexual daddies and naive whore! reader. A longing reunion between soft!dom!Harwin, kelitsos and mean!dom!Dae Dae.
idk what about style by tswift made me type this but here we are, enjoy yourself some daddies. Also thanks to @inlovewithhisblueeyes for the title
WC: 4.9k
Warnings; double penetration (wrap before you tap) infantilism, overstimulation, anal, squirting, mlm, breeding kink, humiliation, corruption, :p, clittttt play because y’all know I’m crazy for that, multiple orgasm, multiple rounds,, spanking, rough smut, AFTERCARE! misogynistic culture, mentions of SA,
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The warm crackle of the fire by the hearth seemed to have lulled you to further exhaustion, heating skin laid flush against furs in the receiving chambers. Awaiting one curly brown-haired Ser to return from his duties to your bed. The quaint cottage your patrons, or perhaps paramours had provided you with was further away from the Street of Silk, a house with walls large enough to fill with books as you learned to read and two attendants to keep you company in the day as your responsibilities only seem to resume at night. Though your abilities kept your pockets full often, opting to be more philanthropic with its expenditure. Both patrons had made one thing clear, you were to be untouched by hands that weren’t theirs.
They had found you on a particularly brutal rampage before the Tournament of the Harvest Moon. Prince Daemon, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, tore into the streets of King’s Landing with his gold cloak wearing soldiers; rounding up all knowns rapers, thieves and assailants. The perverse of the lot took advantage of the bloodied chaos as their blood rushed with the violence, with Daemon having no account for where his men had been - they too raped and brutalised with the authority of the Crown on their shoulders. Ser Harwin Strong had found you, curled into a corner as a lowly soldier towered over you. His teeth barred as he smirked with the thoughts of defiling you. Harwin had quickly taken action, reprimanding the man and dragging him back by the collar to Prince Daemon along with you as witness to his crime.
Upon their victorious return to the Flea Bottom streets, with the favoured crown sitting on Daemon’s head after winning the tourney. He treated his gold cloaks to his favourite brothel with all the women, ale and strong wines the men could stomach in one night. Chataya’s brothel had been the light of Flea Bottom that night. You worked at the very brothel, not as a whore but as a helper, while you were sold to Chataya at a very young age, her heart bled with empathy for you and raised you in her house and gave you the choice to be a whore or not.
You washed their clothes, cooked meals, cleaned rooms and counted account books with Chataya. Your curious eye often stood in the corners of these rooms dressed as a page boy, watching people delve deeper in perversions within the performative echoes from your ‘sisters’ as they pleased their customers. It was then that you spotted Prince Daemon and Ser Harwin once more, having nothing to offer them as gratitude other than bracelets made of mismatched pearls you had collected while cleaning rooms. Such innocent appreciation had made Daemon’s cock twitch within his breeches, and while Harwin picked a whore to fuck for the night. Daemon tried all his will to convince Chataya to have you - her answer remained firm throughout, it would be only if you wished it so.
Wished you did, having given your maidenhead to the handsome brunette Ser and eventually Daemon, both noblemen had you within their clutches. While they trusted Chataya’s judgement on keeping you just for them, they found it unbecoming within weeks as Daemon purchased a cottage higher up in the city to house you in. Their finest prize showered in gold and comfort, much expected to be kept to yourself and yet you always returned to your sisters. Buying them new gowns and necessities with the money Daemon gave you.
So here you were, bundled with furs in front of a painted hearth. Warm and content as you waited for Harwin to visit you. There had been three fires today in the city and four tavern brawls. The gold cloaks were always busy in ensuring the city safe, and to live up to the purpose Daemon had given them, so even as the hour of the owl struck the higher born of the city resumed to bed, the wild machinations of Flea Bottom were just to begin.
The night swayed forward, as Harwin exhaustively stumbled into your home, your handmaidens letting him into the establishment. He had trailed in to find your bed empty, and a puddle of furs and blankets pooled by the hearth, a head of hair leaking through and an apparent rise and fall of mount. You had fallen asleep waiting for him amd he couldn’t find it in his heart to wake you for his lustful needs. He scooped the bundle whole, all warm and dozed before placing you on your bed and following next you.
He pulled your limp body atop him, his larger arms engulfing you whole, you stir - whiney and apologetic - you realise you had fallen asleep. “Shh, sleep,” Harwin’s words rumbled within his bare chest, the hairs of which tickled at your cheek. The plans you had made to pleasure him tonight all washed away to sea as sleep only made you heavier, with only one thing left to be done, perhaps he would answer.
“May I ask you something, my lord,” you whispered, head lifting up to look upon his tired face. His eyes closed, lashes far prettier than your as he hummed to be permissive. “They say the fighting has grown ugly in the Stepstones, do… Do you have any word of Prince Daemon?”
His brows furrowed as he opened his eyes to look down upon you, his thumb caressed at your cheek. “He has a dragon, girl. He will be fine.”
This time you hummed, nuzzling further into the thickness of his beard, letting sleep carry you away to a world of dream as you imagined being surrounded in your paramours arms again.
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Harwin patrolled the streets atop his horse, making his rounds lower into the city and keeping a watchful eye through his helmet. He caught your silhouette, dressed in a light blue gown as you mingled in the markets, spending his fortune for yet another absurd trinket no doubt instead of the pearls or gowns he expected you to buy, the last time you have bought clay moulded lizards - lizards - one of which you gifted him for becoming the Lord Commander of the City Watch before sucking his life through his cock.
“You there, girl!” Harwin’s voice boomed through the market making you flinch, you scowled at him for scaring you and yet people thought that the City Watch had yet again chosen to terrorise the innocent. “Come with me,” his voice dropped in authoritative sauve, motioning his finger to hither you towards him as he dismounted his horse.
Harwin’s hold on you was rough and yet as he dragged you towards an empty alleyway your heart thumped in your chest with excitement, your legs finding it harder to keep up with his hasty steps. Harwin pulled you in between a wall and himself, admiring you from behind his helm, you - very innocently - batted your eyelashes at him. “Have I done something wrong, Ser?” you smirked, lips pulling at the corners as you played along.
“Oh, a terrible crime,” he pushed you back against the stone wall “what do you think you are wearing?” his brow querked as his pointer and middle finger mindlessly trailed down to the low cutout of the dress, his fingers resulting in goosebumps flaring over your skin as he caressed the valley in between your breasts.
“This?” you looked down to your dress sheepishly, knowing the Dornish silhouette was a far exotic choice than anything the commoners let alone the ladies in King’s Landing wore. Gold arm cuffs were hugged around your upper arm as the ruby pendant Daemon gifted you sat against your sternum. “Do you not like it?” your question is genuine, soft. You doe eyed little thing.
“I could rip this off you as retribution, sweet girl,” he groaned, letting his head drop towards the crook of your neck “but I won’t. He whiffed in the scent of lilies in the air around you as he dragged his lips up to your ear, “on your knees, pet.”
“But- my dress,” you whined, not wanting to dirty your dress that you were sure no matter how hard you scrubbed wouldn’t be off, your bottom lip pouting out in conflict over wanting to kneel for him and the loss of your dress.
“I’ll buy you dozens more, perhaps take you Dorne myself,” he opposed, still caressing the round of your breast, letting them slip past the deep cut out.
You obliged kneeling like a well trained slut, ready with your tongue out to have your mouth stuffed. Harwin freed his cock from his breech, it laid semi hardened as you wrapped your hand around the base, tugging at it to harden alive. The warm appendage laid heavy on your tongue as his wet tip leaked its yearn slick. You suckled right on the tip, looking up at him through the lining of your eyelashes. His body hunched over, his palm laid flat against the wall as he greeted his teeth over the maddening sight of your innocent eyes looking up at him, his sweetest prize.
Your mouth sunk deeper feeling him grace the back of your mouth as your throat constricted, your cunt too pooled it’s slick within you. Wanting nothing more than to be pounded against this jagged stone wall. You bobbed away, reaching up to cradle his stones within your palm as you choked against his length. His muffled grunts echoing with the bustle noises of the city, any watchful eye would merely see a whore pleasuring a knight for two coppers, but you - you were no mere whore, you were the woman that held two noblemen by their collars.
“Ah - darling, fuck,” he hissed, the warm sensations of your mouth pleasuring him beyong compare “such a good girl,” he groaned. Holding back the urge to abruptly fuck into your mouth as his digits curled into your braided crown. His stones laid heavy and twitchy upon your hands as your eyes blazed aflame, finding much power bringing a staunch man like him so vulnerable, his lips pink and wet with his blue sea-like eyes glancing into your soul. The warm cream from his cock, spilling fast your lips as he finally rutted his hips into your mouth.
He rests his forehead onto the clenched fist resting on the wall, heaving his thudding heart to calm as you tuck him back into his breeches. Still pawing at his bountiful leather covered thighs, resting your cheek against it as you waited for him to gather his bearings. He yanked you up by your forearms, pulling out a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe at the corners of your mouth. He smiled at you, plump lips curling as he tucked his handkerchief into the belt of your dress.
“Scurry back home,” he ordered, reaching down to grasp your mound over the silks of your gown “play with your pretty cunt, keep it nice and wet.” he enunciated the ‘t’ as he crowded your air with his own. Commanding and tall “and don’t your dare fucking come.”
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Even as you yet again curled into this absurdly large bed alone, filled with warmth of the furs and the freshly stoked hearth. The jasmine scent of the flowers decorating your canopy or the painted candle burning at the side of your bed, the owls hooted along with the muffled echo of the city still alive and bustling below. Keeping your galant knight away from your bed, away from your arms. To hell with the mongrels that kept him occupied so, they must always find a tavern to burn or a fight to enthral themselves with. There wasn’t any other way but to stroke your bare shoulder with your spare arm, mimicking the much coarser finger tips that often drew patterns of crescent moons or mangoes.
It has been perhaps hours since slumber consumed you whole, having curled into a rather painful position that would be sure to have your back aching in the morrow. In your drowsy and heavy state, it didn’t really matter. What made your heavy limbs hyper aware to your mind was when thunderous knocks rang down your door way past the middle of the night. Your servant girl had approached the door first, cautious as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, she opened the heavy steel bolt on the inside with a thud, hoping to not awaken you upstairs. The view she was graced with was terrifying to say the least, a man with face covered in soot and blood stood by the threshold. Had it not been for the burning torches above the doorway illuminating the steps below. Her scream would have awoken half of Rhaenys Hill, yet the glowing wisp of silver hair that peaked past the dirt made it highly apparent of who this person was, a patron missing from this house for over two years; Daemon Targaryen.
The uproar that followed after Daemon’s return to King’s Landing was joyous, an animalistic life of its own, Flea Bottom had provided. With Daemon’s return, their Prince returned to breathe fire into their debauchery. The night he returned, with no pages or correspondences announcing his return. Merely stopping at your doorstep still reeking of the war he had won, awry bandaging covering his up thigh and the very apparent burn scarring spreading through the right of his torso had you gasping and tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you stripped him of his armour and then clothes. Your servant Marsha had prepared a steaming hot, hot bath to wash away the pains from the brutalities he suffered, once settled in the bath. Perhaps your emotions had taken the better of you as you stepped into the tube as well, hissing at the burning contact of the milky water, still in your cream shift as Daemon protested. You lowered with a washcloth in your hand, wordlessly washing away any speck of dirt fallen victim to your eyes. What had they done to him, even more so what had he done to the assailant that might have had the daft courage to trifle with Daemon.
When you awoke the morning after, Daemon had already vanished. Though having slept with your body pulled tight against his, you had no recollection of him leaving, Marsha said he dressed in the early hours of the morning and left. Your heart stung a little, you should be accustomed to both noble men leaving and arriving at all hours of the morning and night for they had their own courtly lives to lead, a part beyond a common whore’s stature.
By the coming of the afternoon, when the sun stood at its highest and King’s Landing at its busiest, word of Daemon’s performance at court in the morrow spread through the city. The Rogue Prince, now styles the King of the Narrow Sea waltzed into the Throne Room to rub his victory into the faces of his protestors but also added a dozen sacks full of swords, axes and weapons to the throne. Keeping merely the bone and ruby crown he rested upon his head.
You dressed for him nonetheless, with no hopes that he might return at night; having been in his family’s company after three summers. Yet a letter arrived from the Red Keep, informing you to prepare the house of guests. The entirety of the gold cloaks were to descend onto your home, though a large event to host a sizable amount you were still a little wary of the men.
More helpers were acquired just for the evening as you found yourself fussing like the ladies of minor houses to impress the hood society though nothing about this night would be polite, nor proper. You wore a dark maroon dress, curtesy of the colours of house Targaryen, Daemon found it visually stirring, the ominous colour against your supple skin. With much preparation for yourself, from a bath laced with milk and sandalwood shavings - having yourself cleaned thoroughly - to the rose oil rubbed against your skin to your pinkish cheeks and lips with rogue.
The celebration was exuberant, gold cloaks accompanied with women(whores) curled around each arm flooded into the main hall of your home. Deep bellies laughter and high pitched chortle harmonised against one another, you settled comfortably on Harwin’s lap as you giggled and tuned to hear the gory tales of battles between. Taking turns to use your nibble finger and feed either Harwin or Daemon, you revelled in the attention you received. A constant was Daemon's heavier hand under yours as you mindlessly twisted his signet rings, something he took not of and loosened his rest on the table.
Daemon leaned back to whisper to Harwin as you gossiped along with a sister from Chataya’s giggling over the eccentric men she had met and the stories they told her in a lust filled state. You abruptly shrieked as you felt Harwin rise with your body in his arms as he effortlessly threw you over his shoulder. Hollers and hoots ripped through the main hall as they banged their fists against the table or whistled at their Lord Commander, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he began to carry you upstairs. Daemon rose their after.
“Now,” he announced as the chatter in the room dwindled, “forgive me lads, I’m afraid the hostess herself is a finer feast than the one she has offered us tonight.” He smirked your way as you were carried away. The men around the hall toasted your name and hollered once more as Daemon soon followed behind.
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Your dress has been long discarded in some dark corner of your bed chambers, the crowd below had surely filled themselves to the brothels or taverns. Leaving but Marsha and the attendant to clean the mess left behind. Upstairs yet another scene unfolding at the foot of your bed as your stood on the balls of your feet, head swooning and occupied at the wet ministrations between yours legs. One knee resting over Harwin’s shoulder as the other being caressed by a hand - which hand was a question unanswered as you were being consumed in waves of pleasure.
Harwin’s beard tickled and rubbed against your thigh sore, his tongue feasting at the petal below. Slurping between your folds only to grace you aching, throbbing bud momentarily; refusing you of the release you longed for. Daemon settled behind you toyed with your puckered rosebud, a sensation he much missed as he himself had carved a home with his cock in your arse. Licking and spreading it open with his tongue, lovingly - teasingly letting his digit be engulfed as his others toyed with your cunt. Filling either from the paper walls separating them, Daemon found odd fascination with the way your environs moved, malleable to stretch to his will but mostly how much the brat within you fought hard against the acquiescent demeanour you possessed.
They could spend hours strumming away at your petals and holes; relishing in the sounds of your squelching cunt along with the soft kitten like mewls curbed your urge to beg. Harwin once again trapped your pearl between his lip, suckling away as you shrieked. Hips grinding as best as they could against the tight hold held against them, you wanted to finish, the tingle soon turning to pain. You yearned for that release like water to a dying plant. “Pl - please my lord,” you whined, more tears falling past your eyes.
To your horror, Harwin pulled away once more as he felt the grip of your cunny clench against his and Daemon’s fingers. You could nearly scream from how frustrated you were but all you could do was weep, mourn the longing peak that now flared into far sensitised despair in your belly. Sniffling and pouted soft bottom lip down, Daemon rose to his legs to admire the bereft look of pliant begging. “Please,” you whispered, more tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. Your eyes looking up at Daemon towering over you, “I’ll do anything, my prince,” you hiccuped, leaning into the soft caress of his hand.
Daemon’s palm curled into your wild hair, yanking back the braided crown “I’m not your prince am I?” his voice sweet, doting yet the shivering of threats, no - no he wasn’t your prince, he was your tormentor. Having grown too used to the spoiling Harwin had doted upon you. “My King,” you said, hoping to please him, enough to wash away the terrible ache in between your legs.
His hand never left your hair as he pulled you away from Harwin, yanking your clumsy limbs down to your bed. Harwin rose to his feet next, beard glistening with your juices and blue eyes blown with lust, he kissed your arse as your shuffled onto the bed. Dripping away the extra furs and blankets, to hell with them. Daemon engulfed Harwin from behind, attacking his neck as he complained “you’ve spoil her too much,” he whispered as he let his arms roam through his paramour’s muscular body.
“And you not enough,” Harwin defended, smiling at your needy face “she is a good girl, isn’t she?” He quirks his brow at you. Your head furiously nodded, sealing the statement as you sat on your knee and back straightened. The only thing gracing your skin, a necklace made of shells and sapphires. “Organising such a wondrous feast for her lords,” he said, Daemon hummed, agreeing.
“I suppose you do deserve to be rewarded, don’t you slut,” Daemon approached you, pushing you hair away, almost petting you like a kept animal. You nodded once more. “What do you want?” he whispered against your lips.
“Both, I - I want to be full,” you looked down at your fiddling fingers “please,” you requested. Daemon audibly growled from the back of his throat. His forehead falling to rest against yours, the insatiable want you had just voiced was one too sinful, one too familiar and yet untouched in years.
“It’s been long pet, perhaps we should wait before using you so…” the excited smile that adorned your lips downturned entirely to a frown and pout. You nudged your nose at Daemon hoping he would agree, convince Harwin that you could do it.
“Please, I’ve been so empty,” you reached forward to palm at Harwin’s crotch. He hissed, succumbing to your eyes per usual.
“If you are hurt-“
“I will tell you, I promise,” you perked up once more.
Your arse soon oiled slick as you laid engulfed between both men, what began with little resistance from your part, with no hurt or weeping. Both took turns pistoning at your hole. Just as Daemon breached your rosebud as Harwin’s cock remained nestled in your cunny, you peak swiftly washed out you. Yet perhaps an hour or even two after you pushed against Harwin, weeping and dizzy as you recovered from yet another peak. There was no place to run as your laid sandwiched in between Harwin, your leg thrown over his thigh as Daemon fucked your bottom from behind.
As though performing tricks both took you apart in the filthiest of ways, Harwin showering you with compliments as he moaned and coddled you with each thrust, Daemon - Daemon left no word unturned within the crass knowledge of his words. His slut, his whore that he trained from firsthand. His palm curled against your throat as he fucked your arse raw; “there’s no running ilbitsos,” he grunted against your ear. “You love this, arse gaping for me to fuck, cunny sopping wet for Harwin.”
Your mouth parted to perhaps mewl some more and construct a sentence yet your tongue felt heavy, “seems we might have fucked our sweet girl daft,” Harwin added, pinching at the pebbles nipples brushing against his chest. Daemon laid two sharp smacks on your rear to elicit an answer, you weren’t sure if you did or perhaps if it was coherent. You blinked away tears as you rambled about loving their cock or being the silly whore but little mattered against the building pressure in your belly, yet again.
“Shh, just let it happen,” Harwin groaned as he felt you fight against them again, there wasn’t a warning this time. Harwin in turn curled his palm around throat as Daemon lowered to pull in your belly towards him while the other free hand found your engorged pearl, unsheathed from its hiding as he flicked his thumb at the throbbing nub. He could swore your arse pulsed the same way the pink coil of nerves did. You screamed, crying out as the fucked you only that much harder. There was only moments of pleasurable agony as the flow of your peak burst right through, literally.
“Fuck, she’s going to milk my cock dry,” Daemon exclaimed, “dumb slut just hungry to be filled with noble seed, isn’t she,” he groaned feeling your peak drench his cock and the sheets bellow as Harwin and him fucked your pliant body through the finish. Their own cocks soon after twitching to completion as they intertwined their hand with one another’s, sticky warm seed flooded your cunt and rosebud, they heaved in unison and you - you were gone. The brunt of the peak pulled you far away from shore, your breathing the only indication that they indeed had not fucked you to death.
When you awoke, your limbs no longer tingled but you were warm, and heavy. You heard shuffles of feet, the sound of wood - doors opening and closing until your eyes opened. Your body curled tightly against Daemon as you sat in between his legs, dozing to consciousness from the thorough exertions they put you through you whined once more. “Shh, it’s over sweet girl,” he whispered, his fingers caressing your arms. While Daemon wasn’t one for words he was sure to purchase another necklace for your efforts tonight.
Harwin from the other end rubbed a wash cloth against your face, washing away the tears, drool and snot covering your face. Whispering sweet words as he always did as the attendants stripped the linens for fresh ones. Only this night there was no need for a fresh stoked fire for you had both laying on either side of you.
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harryspet · 2 years
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the alpha’s trophy [2] s.rogers
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[Warnings] dark!alpha!steve rogers x reader, omega!innocent!reader, reader is the last omega, military!steve to the max, non-werewolf a/b/o dynamics, heavy on the praise kink, agegap, size difference/size kink, spanking, oral sex (male/female recieving), inexperience reader, teacher!steve, manipulation
A/N: a little conclusion to the story :)
In which you fall deeper under Steve’s influence. 
word count: 3.3k
taglist: @cherienymphe @onsunnyside @isysen @inlovewithhisblueeyes @reveise  @speechlessxx @lesbians4levinson2021 @darksideofthecocoamoon @darkndirtyndangerous   @mayasreadingnook @yelenabelovadeservesbetter @queenoftheworldisdead @khaleesiaura @tastycakee @honeydulcewrites @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @samwilsonsbabymama @obsessedprincess​ @cats-and-sheep @goldensunshines @autumnrose40​
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part one
For the first time in weeks, you were able to clear your head. Steve wasn’t inside you or lapping at you or massaging your breasts. He was gone on an emergency and, although you craved him, you were beginning to remember the circumstances that led you here. How Steve had carefully and calculatingly planned all of this. You dressed yourself, wearing clothing for the first time in too long, choosing a black t-shirt of yours and a floral midi skirt.
You almost didn’t have the courage to face the house staff, knowing they’d been hearing your desperate mewling for hours on end. You put on the bravest face you could as you pushed through the swinging, kitchen doors. Cynthia, the chef, was peeling boiled eggs by the sink and you slowly made your way around the island so you could face her. Her smile widened when she saw you and you felt an instant relief. 
She was a woman who you guessed was in her late forties, with curly blonde hair and dimples on both sides of her mouth. 
“Hi.”
“Hi, honey. Are you hungry?”
You shook your head, your hands tightly gripping the counter, “I was wondering if there was a telephone I could use.”
“Do you need to speak to Captain Rogers?” She further questioned and you were glad she didn’t seem taken aback by your request. 
“Maria Hill,” You responded, “Do you know her?”
“Not personally, honey. Do you know her phone number?”
“Well … no.” You went on to ask her about the various ways one could find someone’s phone number. That led to a history lesson on phone books and how Cynthia basically hadn’t seen one in a decade. Besides that, Maria Hill was too important of a figure for her personal phone number to be just found online. 
It wasn’t a hard task for Steve to keep you hidden away. All he had to do was rely on the fact that you didn’t know anyone else, knew way too little about the outside world, and that it would always be his word against yours. 
“Maybe you can ask Captain Rogers to help you get in contact with her,” It was your only option. Unless she found you herself, you’d probably had to go through Steve to get to her. 
You were silent for a moment, “When do you think he’ll be back?”
“He’s making the talk show and roundtable runs all day so I wouldn’t expect him to be back until late night.”
“Talk show?” Your eyes widened, “W-What do you mean?”
She rinsed off her hands, implying that you should follow as she made her way to the living room. “People have been wondering about you and Captain Rogers after the senate meeting. I think he wants to make sure there aren’t any rumors out there.” You watched her grab one of the remotes and flick on the flat screen television. 
Immediately, you saw one of the photos of you standing beside Steve inside the capitol. Your doe eyes were looking up at him and it didn’t seem like you were scared but in awe of him. The picture faded away and Steve appeared, all smiles, as he sat next to a dark skinned woman with pin-straight, perfectly styled hair. Her hot pink, peplum dress contrasted against her skin and the blue background. Across the bottom of the screen you saw the words GMA and “CAPTAIN STEVE ROGERS TELLS ALL ABOUT LAST OMEGA”. 
“Oh my stars,” You thought out loud, your eyes wide with fear. 
“The entire country – excuse me, the entire world has been reeling ever since the news broke. We all had no idea what we’d be seeing, what this Omega would like, what they would be like, how the government would choose to react. I mean, we all knew how important this woman is going to be in the grand scheme but it's safe to say we were all still a little caught off guard by the situation. What was your first reaction to seeing her?”
“My first reaction to seeing Y/N,” Steve repeated the question and you sensed he was faking sincerity, “Well, I felt what any Alpha might feel in that sort of moment. Seeing the sea of reporters and cameras following her, knowing that every eye was on her, I felt she needed protection. She didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t ask to be treated like a celebrity nor did she choose to be in the care of people that didn’t have her best interest.”
A picture of Bruce appeared on the screen and you completely lost all the air in your lungs. 
“What do you think Bruce Banner’s ultimate plan was? A lot of people are confused as to why such a respected man like him would engage in this kind of behavior.”
“I believe he thought there was an evolutionary reason for why no more Omegas were being born. He believed that as a society, we didn’t need them, and eventually we wouldn't need a ranking system. If it was up to him, Y/N would die as the last Omega. I’m not sure what or who radicalized him but dangerous ideas like that … they serve no place in our society.”
The woman feigned shock, “Wow, the world without a ranking system? I can’t even imagine that. More reason to thank our brave federal agents for rescuing her. Now, I’m sure as much as the world is confused by this situation, I’m sure Y/N was even more baffled herself. It’s even been rumored that she developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome while living with Dr. Banner.”
“I’d say there was a lot of confusion, at first, and I completely respect her feelings towards Dr. Banner. To her, she lost a father figure which I wouldn’t wish on anyone,” Tears pricked your eyes at his words. It was like he was using this entire situation, manipulating it, so he’d come out as the understanding and compassionate, good guy, “But I’m sure everyone would be happy to know she’s adjusting well.”
“And there’s no point in beating around the bush anymore. Apparently, your relationship with Y/N has changed quite a bit. I have to admit, after seeing you two together, I was hoping sparks would fly. Is it true that she’s chosen you as her mate?”
Steve closed his eyes for a moment, like he was attempting to choose his words with the utmost precision. It was like he was trying to come off as humble as possible, “It’s true. But the details I’ll leave for her to share in the future. I just want the world to know how much of a special person that she is and getting to know her these past few weeks, I do believe she represents a bright future for this country.”
“Thank you for sitting down with me, Captain,” It seemed like the reporter was looking you right in the eyes as she turned to the camera, “We’ll be right back in a minute.”
Who knew how many people were tuning in to watch the famous Alpha on TV. He wasn’t even finished telling this false story, Cynthia had said he’d be making that rounds all day. And implying that you’d tell your own story eventually? He expected you to lie to the world too and you decided right then that you wouldn’t let him parade you around the news. He could keep you locked in the house, touch you until you couldn’t remember your own name, but you wouldn’t help him put up this façade of you. 
“Honey-”
“Don’t call me honey, please,” Steve’s pet names were enough. You didn’t want Omega or honey or sweetie or baby. You just wanted to be yourself. You wiped your tears as they fell,  “I-I’m sorry. I’m going upstairs. Please don’t send any food up.”
You walked away, making your way through the pristine home, up the stairs, and sadly to the only place that made you feel comfortable. A bed covered in Steve’s scent. 
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Steve’s raised voice woke you from your hibernation. You couldn’t hear what was exactly said but you recognized another female’s voice as Cynthia’s. You sat up in bed as you heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. You pulled the covers over your head, balling up your limbs into the fetal position, and shut your eyes tightly. 
You heard a sigh leave his lips as the door opened. He moved relatively quietly but you picked up the sound of glass being placed on the nightstand. The bed dipped beside you and you began to whisper to yourself, praying that you’d be reunited with Bruce and that you could have the room you loved back. 
“Y/N?” You ignored him, continuing to pray, “You have to eat three meals a day. You can’t order Cynthia to not fix your food.”
As you continued to not respond or move, Steve finally grew frustrated and pulled the comforter away from your body. Instantly, you pushed your body away from him, settling in on the other side of the huge bed, “I need you healthy-”
“I want to talk to Maria,” You stated plainly.
“Y/N-”
“If you’re not a cold hearted liar, you’ll at least let us have a phone call. I want to speak to her. And soon.”
“Why the name calling, Omega?” It was meant to bruise my ego and you didn’t know why you expected him to not fight your fire with his own, “We’ve been doing so good lately.”
“Because you lie to the entire world like it’s nothing.”
“The world wouldn’t care about the truth, Y/N. What I say out there doesn’t actually affect our personal lives. I just have a certain reputation to maintain.”
“I want to speak to Maria.”
“Fine. I’ll arrange a call for you two. I don’t know what you’re expecting her to say. She doesn’t have the power to reverse any of this.”
“I have no doubt there’s someone out there, more powerful than you, that sees through your lies,” You spat, your back still turned to him. 
“You’re more naive than I thought then,” You felt like a hand was wrapped around the heart in your chest, squeezing it. His words had struck you deep and had hurt your Omega even more. Yesterday, she was begging him to call her a good girl and now he was practically calling you stupid. 
You rose from the bed vehemently. “I’m not naive,” You seethed. 
“You are,” Steve stood, his voice completely stern, “You’ve only really known two people well throughout your whole life. You never went to school. Never had the chance to make friends. You’ve never really traveled. You have no idea who you are yet.”
“I do.” Your voice came out in such a whisper that you could barely recognize it, “Don’t . . . don’t say that-”
“People have lied to you your entire life, I’m not sure you know what’s really fact and fiction. You’re the only one of your kind and you’re lost.”
His words piled onto you like heavy weight and you felt your knees buckling until you were on the ground, “Please,” You whispered, your face wet with tears that you hadn’t realized started falling. His words were on top of you, crushing you, but soon you were weightless as he lifted you into his arms. 
He pulled you back to the bed, resting you on his lap, as you whimpered into his shoulder. Soothing hands petted your hair, slowly coaxing the sadness out of you, “One thing I can tell you that you are is mine. I’m going to show you your true purpose, little girl. I know you can behave better than this.”
“I can’t-” You hiccupped, “I can’t, I can’t–”
You weren’t shocked by your own tears or the turmoil you felt inside. Your emotions had never been so up and down since meeting Steve. He’d insist it was because you were still resisting your true nature. 
Steve shushed you, “You can be exactly what I want. My perfect mate. You want to be a good girl, right?” 
Your body tensed, fingernails digging into the fabric as your throat became tight. You were trying to hold the words inside you back, to push them down into the pits of your stomach. No longer could you distinguish between Steve’s real voice and the voice used to control you. It was all the same now. He’d discovered the first time you’d been intimate that you craved his approval and praise. 
Steve rubbed your lower back, placing soft kisses near your ear, “Good girls get lots of privileges.”
“Privileges?” Your voice was a whisper. 
“They get to feel good, all the time,” You peeled your face from his shoulder and the two of your eyes met. It was like you hadn’t truly looked at each other till now. There was always anger and frustration, at first, and then you two ended up crumbling. He could be just as gentle as you when he wanted to. 
“What if they want you to feel good?” You asked not very nonchalantly, “Wouldn’t that be the … kind thing to do?”
“You want your Alpha to feel good?” Steve’s hands traveled up your waist, caressing you like you were velvet. His strong hands were gently with your breasts, exploring one of your sensitive peaks with his fingertips, “Well, that’s a little bit of a  predicament. Because Alpha’s always put their Omega’s first.”
“We can feel good together,” Steve grinned wickedly at your words.
“Of course,” The hand on your breasts moved to your face and he easily pulled your lips to his.
Steve felt so young with you in his arms. Your movements were always so eager, never taking a break to breathe when your lips were on each other. The dry humping, your bouncing hips, made him feel like a teenager but he liked how the tension built this way. It drove him crazy until the Alpha had to flip you over and taste what he’d been missing all day. This time, however, it was you that wanted to taste him. 
It was only when Steve was laid down on the bed and you were gripping him in your hand that you lost a bit of your confidence. Although Steve had pleased you plenty in these past few weeks, you hadn’t gotten personal with him in this way yet and you soon realized you really had no idea what you were doing. Steve seemed to notice, sitting up until you were face to face again. 
“It’s okay, you’re doing good. Hold it exactly like you are, just a little tighter, honey,” You did as he instructed, applying more pressure to his shaft, “Now move your hand up and down, stroke it. Good girl.”
Steve leaned back on his elbows, “Now, put your mouth around me. Get it wet.”
You started with your tongue, tasting his tip and licking around it. Although his size was intimidating, you felt your desire increasing, “Let me see those eyes, Y/N,” You felt your cheeks heat up but you did your best. As you took him fully in your mouth, it was easier to tell what he liked by the expressions on his face. 
With every praise from his lips, you were even more enthusiastic and even more wet than before. You went faster, using both hands and your mouth to pleasure your Alpha. Steve’s head tilted back suddenly, “Wait, Y/N,” It was the most desperate his voice had sounded, “Wait-”
You knew you were sending him over the edge, and despite the fact that you were meant to let him guide you, you needed to fully taste him. Steve finished in your mouth and you weren’t hesitant to taste him or swallow it. Sitting back on your own knees, a smile formed on your lips, as some of his cum dripped down your chin. Steve was smirking evilly as he admired you, “Don’t you think for one second that this means we’re done.”
Still breathing heavily, Steve grabbed you, pulling you in before pinning you beneath him, “I’ll be ready again soon,” He said, “In the meantime, I’m gonna taste you until you're begging me to stop.”
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Later
The neighborhood you and Steve lived in was military housing for Fort Meade. Like Steve had said, being a good girl had its privileges. Guarded by several armed men, Steve showed you around the base, even allowing you to meet some of the military wives that lived in your cul de sac. Surprisingly, other than the giant planes and huge tanks, the location was quite boring. There were only a few activities servicemen could do for entertainment and one of them was bingo at the community center.
You didn’t win your game but Steve promised to bring you back, surprised by how entertaining you found it. 
Steve was right about Maria Hill. There was really nothing she could do. You could still tell the woman was genuine and wanted to help you. Part of you wasn’t really listening as she began to list the politicians and people she was in contact with. Maybe you’d become weaker but what Steve said earlier in the week was still sitting with you. Maybe you didn’t truly know what the world was. Maybe he was the best thing for you. 
“Y/N, what are you most excited about when it comes to your future?”
The woman in front of you seemed disappointed when she met you at first, probably because you didn’t gush over her or know exactly how popular she was. Steve had only told you the name of her show thirty minutes before she walked into your house. There was an entire TV crew inside and several cameras pointed at you currently.
“Traveling,” You answered truthfully, your hands neatly folded in your lap, over your white dress. Steve was dressed nicely as well because you were meant to do a full photoshoot after the interview. The interview would air and you and Steve would be plastered on magazine covers soon afterwards, “With Captain Rogers,” You added. 
“There’s so much Y/N hasn’t seen and I know the people of the world want to meet her. People are losing faith in the ranking system and we’re proof that it’s still alive and well. It’s a special thing we have to preserve,” Steve said in his much more detailed and eloquent answer. If you looked past the interviewer, you could see a monitor showing exactly what the camera was seeing. Steve was so much larger than you that you were afraid it might appear that you were sinking into the couch beneath you. 
You suddenly felt insignificant despite the words he was saying.
“How long do you guys plan on traveling?”
“Only a few months. We want to make sure everything is perfectly safe for Y/N,” You felt a hand on your waist, snaking around your hips, and you were reminded of where you were, “Fortunately, we have a good excuse.”
“I know you guys have breaking news,” The reporter smiled so wide you were sure she was going to hurt herself, “Y/N, is there something you would like to announce?”
Steve looked at you and the air in the room seemed to thicken. Your lips parted but no words left. You hadn’t completely wrapped your mind around the news and yet you were still announcing it to the entire world. Steve was patient and seemed to notice your hesitancy. 
“We’re expecting,” Steve announced instead, “She’s three months along…”
In that moment, as you began to tune the rest of the conversation out, you realized that you were trusting Steve not only with your life but with the life of the baby inside you. By the time the interview was over, you were back on earth, with an adoring Steve holding you to him. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, one of his hands roaming on your belly, “You were perfect, honey. Perfect.” 
The anxiety left you at his words. You leaned into his touch, your body knowing that when you were good for him, everything in your world was good too.
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moonlitinks · 1 year
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I’m on my second read through of the second chapter and it hurts even more the second time around even though I know that cliffhanger is coming
OMG NO I FEEL SO BAD, like i want everyone to feel the pain but i also don't want to make you suffer ackkk
and second read?? YOU'RE LITERALLY THE BEST <3
ik i said this a bunch now but IT'LL GET BETTER, I PROMISEEEE
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roamwithahungryheart · 10 months
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15 questions and 15 mutuals
I was tagged by @mexicangela @boobiebaguettebouquet @hart-kinsella & @movrings 💖
Were you named after anyone?
I was almost named after someone but it changed because the name 'sounded too old'. I was almost an 80 year old baby 😂
When was the last time you cried?
Full-on cried? Probably months ago. I got a little teary watching Black Panther: Wakanda Forever recently though.
Do you have kids?
No, but I'd like to one day. But that's a whole other complicated issue.
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Yep. If I ever stop being sassy, assume I'm dead.
What's the first thing you notice about people?
Physically? Their eyes. Personality-wise, their sense of humor and the way they laugh.
What's your eye color?
Blue.
Scary movies or happy endings?
Both. Both is good. I like being scared, but I also hate being scared...and I think I speak for everyone when I say you can't beat a good rom-com!!!
Any special talents?
Hmmm, apparently I can throw my voice and it freaks people out - that's my theater training in action babyyy!!! 😂
Where were you born?
In the words of Bruce Springsteen, I was born in the USA (sorry).
What are your hobbies?
I hate this question so much because I always have this moment of staring wistfully into the middle distance like 'what is a hobby?' lmao BUT I guess I'd have to say writing, playing the piano, video games (just finished Resident Evil: Village and about to get onto the DLC)
Have any pets?
Three chaotic dogs - one of them has emotional problems so fireworks are his arch enemy (but so are trucks, the doorbell, wine corks, balloons, the vacuum....I could go on)
What sports do you play/have you played?
Tennis, badminton, lacrosse, hockey, but not anymore! I'm more of a yoga/pilates gal these days.
How tall are you?
5 ft 2. SMOL.
Favorite subject in school?
English & Drama.
Dream job?
Writer for TV & Film, although I have a few novels left in me yet - although I do think about getting into interior design staging every now and then. Either way it comes down to something creative & flexible (like me 😏)
I'm tagging (if you feel like it!): @existential-labrador @biscuitboxpink @stephaniejuhnay @angelofmusings @targaryenvampireslayer @babyjakes @winter2112rose @cardierreh15 @whiskeyncoke-redux @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @sarcastic-coffeedrinker @thelastsock @sillyrabbit81 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @gyllenhaalstories
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littlefreya · 11 months
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Writers bingo!
I was tagged by the marvellous @geralts-yenn 🖤😍
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Tagging: @the-soot-sprite @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @captainsy-cookiemonster @oh-for-fic-sake @inlovewithhisblueeyes @nuggsmum @angryschnauzer @sapphirescrolls @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @yespolkadotkitty @viking-raider
Template under the cut
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resowrites · 2 years
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Fuzzy Pumpkin - drabble.
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Summary: Henry’s taken aback by his gf’s latest purchase.
Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC
Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, dialogue heavy, language, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: 429
A/N: Welp I can’t do Flufftober after all, I wasn’t happy with my entries either so they’ve been removed. Please enjoy this post though, not sure when I’ll be back ~ R x
My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! No copyright infringement intended, gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!
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Fuzzy Pumpkin - drabble.
The sound of Henry's raucous laughter almost made her jump. She quickly entered the living room to find him hugging himself on the sofa with his head thrown back. She let out a breath and took a seat next to him, placing two cups down on the coffee table. "What's so funny?" He still couldn't form words but pointed eagerly to the coffee table. "What, you idiot?" He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his eyes.
"This! What the fuck is this?!" He grabbed the pumpkin ornament that had been resting there.
"A pumpkin, darling."
"Oh really? Didn't know they did fuzzy ones." Henry's laughter got the better of him once again.
"It's not fuzzy, it's 'flocked,'" she said matter of factly.
"'Fucked,' did you say?" She bit her lip, determined not to smile.
"Flocked! Flocked!" She snatched it from his hand and bopped him on the arm with it.
"As in, you 'flocked' to buy it?" She pursed her lips but decided to reach down the side of the sofa anyway, Henry's mischievous look be damned. "You looking for the receipt?" She ignored him and produced from a bag another, smaller pumpkin. He broke down completely. She bit the insides of her mouth to keep from laughing as she took her time positioning the two pumpkins in front of her. He eventually managed to collect himself but had to use his shirt to wipe his face this time. "Well, I suppose one fuzzy pumpkin would look odd." Her eyes fell to the larger one and what else she could do besides bop him with it. "Hey, easy now… you only just bought them." She finally snickered but folded her arms. "What else did you buy?" She sniffed sharply and ignored his devilish grin.
"Just a candle."
"Oh, what scent?" The look she gave him was so fierce he snorted hard. She then sighed and fetched the bag.
"Oh darling, you know I'm only joking."
"Too late, you've ruined it." Henry giggled.
"Aww no! You know I think there's a pumpkin patch near here, what if I take you to get some real ones?"
"No thank you, I want these ones." He sighed and flung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest for a cuddle.
"Well, I suppose you know best. Still, I'll see if I can pick up a nice one in Sainbury's… there's got to be one there that doesn't look like you from behind." She smirked.
"Yeah, cos it’ll look like you from the front." Henry choked on his tea.
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To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.
@marytudorbrandon @inlovewithhisblueeyes @pinkhippo44 @luclittlepond @kebabgirl67
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