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#it's so tiny. it fits so well in my little hands. i kind of love it almost as much as i fear it.
orcelito · 2 months
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Feel like I am absorbing as much as my father after his death as possible. I will carry on his Legacy. I will be the Biker (in time). I am already the weapon collector (though with knives, not guns). I even have accepted owning a minions mug, something I swore would never happen (I hate those fucking things), just bc it makes me think of him.
Maybe he's gone now, but I'm gonna make damn sure to live a continuation of his life... just in my own way, lol
#speculation nation#like how im taking so much of his clothes. im absorbing some of his masculinity too#i own so many harley things now. like tshirts and such. my dad had so many.#and. well. i did end up deciding to take his little revolver. though that's with more of a grave observance than anything else.#guns are. scary. and i think it's ludicrous that i dont even need a permit to own a gun here#but it's my dad's. and at least a revolver is less scary than like. a pistol.#less easy to accidentally go off. u gotta pull back the hammer every shot and everything.#guns are scary and i dont like them. but it was my dad's. a pretty big part of his life.#i was raised being taught basic gun safety rules. brought to a shooting range at 9 years old#i couldnt even hold up the rifle i was so small.#never went since then bc i didnt care for it. but it's still... something so intrinsic to him in my mind.#so in this Too. i will be continuing his legacy. at least a little bit.#we r gonna be selling most of his guns. but not that one.#it's so tiny. it fits so well in my little hands. i kind of love it almost as much as i fear it.#oh well. i'll be careful. i was taught to never forget the danger a gun can be.#a part of me also is like 'omg a revolver. like what vash uses!' which ok maybe that's part of why i went to the revolver too#though the primary reasons are. it's a Tiny piece. and also itd be Really difficult to accidentally shoot it.#bc u gotta full on cock it back And pull the trigger. that aint gonna happen by accident.#but yeah not to be Stereotypical American but yea guns sure do exist here#and it's in my family too. i want the gun to remember him by. even if i dont ever end up using it.#(tho ive contemplated taking it to a range at least once just to get a feel for actually shooting it#Just In Case i ever end up needing to use it for like. home invasion self defense or smth#which is. another Smaller reason for me to have it. things to think about.)
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utterlyotterlyx · 25 days
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18 with Azriel because mans is taaaaall
Little Thing
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Summary - Azriel loves finding any reason to hold you, his height restricted mate, in his arms, and isn't ashamed to admit it.
Warnings - absolutely none really, slight swearing, just Az fluff x 1000
"I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
"I'm not that fucking short."
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The weight that occasionally pressed against the tips of his toes had become something he found endearing, because it meant that you were trying with all of your might to kiss him by using his feet as leverage to boost your own height.
Azriel was abnormally tall, his six foot seven to your five foot three was the source of copious amounts of teasing from your shared family, mostly from Cassian who always questioned aloud how Azriel fit inside of you, like it was all he thought about whenever he looked at the two of you.
"Would you like to watch since you're so intrigued about our sex life, Cass?"
"I, uh-," Cassian had stuttered that chill afternoon, the stars had blanketed across the sky, and you were stood in the centre of the lounge in your floor length skirt which only reached Azriel's knees, (he'd tried it on one day much to your delight); you were tapping your foot against the wooden floor, eyebrow arched and waiting for a real answer, "No."
Azriel had to give it to Cassian, and Rhys, and well anyone who questioned how Azriel, the brother with the largest wingspan, managed to fit inside of you. Cassian said often that his cock must rearrange your insides and he was surprised how you could walk around after your nights, mornings, and afternoons together, let alone go to work and live a normal life.
"Thought not. Shame, you could have learnt a thing or two for Nesta," Azriel chortled at your words and sent a wave of pride and adoration down the bond, a shower of affection that you lapped up.
"Ouch, y/n. That stung," Cassian fluttered his fingers over his heart and winced dramatically.
"Bite me," you flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen where the most incredible aromas floated from.
Once a month, you promised to cook a family dinner for them all, having negotiated your family away from the once a week they had begged for. It was as though they believed that you didn't have a life. The most decadent bakery in Velaris had your name plastered on the front of it in pale blue swirls, that was how you had met Azriel, after Feyre had dragged him into the store owned by the tiny fae female who made the best pastries she had ever tasted in her life.
The bond had snapped immediately for him when he saw you in your black apron dusted with flour, pink icing and white buttercream on your cheeks, hair strewn up but spilling over your forehead, boxing up a larger than you three tier cake without breaking a sweat.
The pastries you had made for him once you had decided to accept the bond, and the life that came with it, were almost as good as the passionate love he gave you that night.
Azriel loved everything about you, from the larger than life ferocity and sass you carried in your tiny body, to your equally ferocious loving heart; you were independent, talented, sweet, and kind, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise shadowed reality.
Though, there were two things that Azriel loved more than anything. The first was being able to find any excuse to lift you up in his hands, whether that be to help you reach the top shelf or fuck you against a wall; he wouldn't admit it easily, but he did purposefully hide things out of reach from you so that he had a reason to hold you in his large hands. The second thing he adored was how you would stand on his feet, on your tiptoes, to capture his lips on yours. It was such a sickly sweet part of you, but one that he wouldn't change for anything.
Hearing you strain, Azriel furrowed his brow, imagining you struggling to reach the second shelf of the cupboard in a home where furniture had been made for three huge Illyrians, not a tiny fae baker. Rounding the corner, he smirked at your form, he smirked at the way your skirt was hitched around your thighs as you clambered onto a nearby chair to hop onto the countertop.
Azriel sauntered over to you, laying his large hands on your hips and pressing his lips to the small of your back, grinning against your skin when you shuddered at the contact, "Need any help?" Azriel had moved the stool away from the edge of the counter, placing himself where it used to be.
Turning in his hands, you looked down on him with a wide smile, "No, I got it," you presented the bag of sugar to him and he took it from your fingers, placing it down for you, "Is this what it's like to be you? I can see so much up here."
Azriel chuckled, resting his chin on your stomach and peering up at you through his long lashes that always made you curse his Illyrian genes, "I guess so," he shrugged, locking his arms around your hips, enjoying the moment you had taken to run your fingernails over his scalp which drew a whine from his lips.
Taking his face in your hands, you leaned down and placed your lips to his, a tender embrace, one full of love and the faint taste of your vanilla lip balm that gave your lips the most incredible glossy finish, "How does it feel to kiss someone taller than you?"
Grinning, Azriel prodded, "Amazing actually. I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
You gasped, swatting his shoulder with the towel you had tucked into the back of your skirt, "I'm not that fucking short!"
His laugh boomed throughout the kitchen as you fiddled with the ends of your hair, "Okay, maybe I am just a little bit. Cassian's right, how do we have sex?" Azriel continued to laugh at your mumbling as he lifted you from the counter, placing you back on to the ground which felt so far away from where you were stood moments before.
Your mate bent down to peck your pouting bottom lip, pulling you into his body and stroking his fingers through your hair, "Who are we to question science? It works, that's good enough for me."
"It's definitely good enough for me."
"Oh I know. You told me as much last night - ow!" Azriel hissed as you dug your heel into his foot, frowning, he asked, "What was that for?"
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bashfully whispered, "I don't need Cassian to know what I tell you when we're doing that."
"You said it first."
"And?" There it was, the sass, the popped hip and arched brow, "Now move, I need to finish cooking and you're blocking my view."
Azriel smirked, "Oh my beautiful little thing, but I am the view."
A giggle floated through your lips, his favourite sound apart from when you were moaning his name beneath him, "You're lucky I love you," you fell into his open arms and pressed your lips to his clothed chest, to the exact place where your lips always met when you stood before him.
"I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that right?"
Humming in agreement, your hands wrapped around his back, "I know, Az," you pulled away, craning your neck toward the ceiling to look at him, "I'd change one thing about you though," his face dropped, "That you'd stop purposefully hiding things on the top shelf."
Azriel took a step back, "You know?!"
Scoffing, you turned, focusing back to the slowly simmering melting chocolate on the stove top, "Of course I know. I'm small, not dumb."
Azriel's warmth swarmed you, his huge arms nestled over your chest, and he rested his head atop your own, "All I can do is do it a little less. You know I like man-handling you. It makes me feel strong."
"Big Illyrian baby."
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Authors Note
Just a little drabble on a Wednesday evening x
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avis-writeshq · 1 month
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hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!
anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha
and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!
thank you and your work is amazing!
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3 wc: 631
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“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up. 
“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement. 
“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”
Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”
“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.
“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”
You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t. 
“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”
“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you. 
“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”
You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”
“It’s Keith–”
“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”
“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”
“There you are.”
You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched. 
“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly. 
“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.
Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn. 
“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”
“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.
“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”
You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”
“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”
“Tell that to Kimberly.”
“That isn’t even close.”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
events page
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eyesxxyou · 5 months
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💿 hobie brown x fem!reader
❝ warnings ❞ size kink, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), light slapping, pussy slapping
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We need to realistically talk about how large Hobie is. Yes, he's skinny but he’s also 6’5” and we all know that skinny dudes have the biggest dicks. He’s a grower for sure.
We need to talk about how much you struggle to take him every single time, how he takes his time playing with your pussy and stretching you open so it doesn't hurt. His fingers are long and slender and reach places you couldn't reach on your own. His tongue teases yours, fingers sometimes coming out to stroke your clit before slipping back in to curl against your soft ridge. “Open up f’me, doll. Be good.”
And when he finally gets the monster out, he strokes it between the wet lips of your pussy, slapping it against your soaked cunt, teasing his tip against your entrance until you’re weeping and begging him to put it in.
You always struggle to take him as stated before. The fat head of his cock pushing into your tight cunt until you cry. He keeps going even though you push your hand to his hip to slow him down. God, your pussy is so tight and wet and soft. He can't stop himself from taking what he needs, pushing into you until he manages to fit all of it into your tiny hole.
“I’s okay, you can take i’.” He stuffs his massive length into you until you’re creaming on it, already cumming with just a few thrusts. Your body tries to run but he holds you still, holds you down, makes you take more.
“Nice lil’ pussy.” He murmurs, as he fucks you sideways, your pussy leaving a creamy ring of your cum at the base of his cock. You can barely take it. Your poor pussy is all swollen and puffy from his abuse. His fingers sloppily rubbing your clit until you cum again.
Sometimes he pulls out completely, takes his time to stroke his cock against your aching pussy while your thighs tremble. He thrusts all the way back in with one stroke of his hips and then all the way back out. Your legs shake some more. His hands grip your thighs, rubbing gentle circles into the muscle to help the shaking stop. “Take ya time, lovie.”
He fucks you from the back and grips your jaw. His body towers over you, forces your back to arch, fucks into you like no tomorrow. Hobie makes you see stars, makes you go cross-eyed. You can't formulate words, can't grasp a single coherent thoughts in that dumb little mind of yours. Hobie holds your hands behind your back and your face falls into the sheets. He chuckles, smiling. "Gotcha goin' dumb, don't I? Stay wit' me love." He reaches and lightly slaps your cheek to ground you.
And when he finally cums, he cums so much, so much that it leaks out if you in messy, white globs. He spreads it with the length of his cock, slapping his length against your ruined pussy while you struggle to catch your breath.
"did so well f'me, dove. Took my cock like a fuckin' champ, ya did."
He always rewards you after taking him, knowing how difficult it can be sometimes. He gets down on his knees before you and takes his time cleaning you up with his tongue. Hobie's lips kiss your clit and his tongue laps at your leaking cunt. He eats you until your legs clamp around his head and your hands work to push him away from overstimulated. It's torture of the best kind.
Hobie's so fucking big, it's insane.
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jellyluvr · 10 months
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if your taking requests can you please do a smut with tate basically where he's fucking us in the skull makeup????? you can make the rest however I've just never seen anyone make a fic with him and the skull makeup
Eyeliner
- tate langdon x fem!reader ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
I love this sm!! Ty for the request!!! Also this is kind of gonna be tweaked to my liking, so sorry if it doesn't fit too perfectly. (It still has skull makeup) also I think pieces of Cain posted a fic similar to this one but I promise I'm not stealing! (I'm horrible at titles pls help)
Tw: both r nervousish??, handjob?, a little bit of dick sucking, tate being a whiny BITCH!! And some p n v
S: after finishing tates makeup, you start your own but tate can't help but feel aroused by your body. After asking for help, you help him.
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Tate leaned against the bathroom wall, letting you touch up his skull makeup. You used an eyeliner since it was all you had, but it worked quite well.
He stared down at you, his hands in his pockets as he stayed quiet, allowing you to finish. Of course he didn't know if you were, but every so often you'd take the brush away and stare for a second. He thought it was cute, the way your nose scrunched up as you contemplated if it was good or not. He even smiled a bit.
His dimples showed as he gave a toothy grin, snickering at you as you watched. "What?" You said, quite offended. He just giggled more shaking his head. "It's fine.. just finish." He encouraged, his little giggles eventually fading. He returned to his neutral self, you touching up his nose as you tried to work with the outline you had done earlier.
As you worked, tate looked in the mirror, the reflection showing your ass. He loved those short.. short.. shorts. The tiny little strap on them made him go crazy.. the drawstrings tightened to fit your figure.. fuck.
You two weren't dating. More of just friends with occasional flirting, but tate had a crush on you. A huge crush. As childish as it sounded, he really did take peeks at you. Even when you changed.. but this was the first time he got a good view.
"Done! You like it?" You smiled, stepping back as he watched your ass move slightly, a tent growing in his pants. He turned to the mirror, nodding with another smile. "I love it. Thank you.." he moved in, his large hands gripping at your waist as he pulled you in for a hug.
He really only did it so he could see your ass in the mirror again, but he really focused on how your chest pressed against him. Oh how he loved you didn't wear bras.
Your tiny little shirt made him froth from mouth. It made him go feral.. it made him want to do unspeakable things to you. And as you clung to him, he made a move. His hand creeped to your ass, cupping it as your eyes opened, widening before you looked up.
You felt his hand rub against your ass cheek lightly as he looked in the mirror, watching it. He didn't seem to notice you looking up at him, so you finally said something. "Tate?" He let out a hum, his hand moving up to your waist again. "Why were you touching me there?" You felt butterflies in your stomach as you pulled from the hug a little, his hands falling from your waist.
He looked into your eyes, "Sorry.. where did I touch you?" He said, acting clueless. You raised a brow, your arms going over your chest as you laughed a little. "What? You can't make that excuse." You responded as his eyes watched your mouth move. Jesus.. even your mouth was hot. "I like when you talk like that." His eyes went back up to your eyes with a smile.
"Tate, seriously.." you rolled your eyes, and in the matter of one second tate moved in, hugging you again. "Thanks for the makeup too." He rubbed his hand over your head, slightly messing your hair up. "Yeah.. okay.." you said, pulling back before looking in the mirror, resting your body on the counter as you picked up the eyeliner you used on tate. You began to try and copy the makeup, starting on your eyes.
Tate couldn't help but look at your ass, his eyes almost turning into hearts as he stared down. "Fuck.." he cussed under his breath, one hand going to his throbbing boner as he gave it the attention it craved. He did it subtly, but enough to make him choke down a few moans. You hadn't noticed, but as you looked over you caught on to something being wrong.
Tate was being weird. Usually he'd flirt as a joke, maybe brush your cheek but he had never touched you intimately like earlier. Neither had he been bold enough to rub himself. You looked over at him, watching as he looked to you. "It looks good.. don't worry." He gave a thumbs up, his right hand remaining on his crotch. You looked down at it, then back up at his face before nodding. "Yeah, okay.." you rolled your eyes, returning back to the makeup as you laughed under your breath, his eyes traveling every curve on your body. Every detail was engraved in his head for later. For when he'd touch himself for real.
"Y/n, Where'd you get those shorts?" He asked, moving up a little as his hand abandoned his now, very disappointed cock. "Uhh.. like old navy maybe? I dunno.. I'll check later." You responded, focusing on your makeup.
Tate moved to where he was aligned with your ass his hand going to the band as he pulled it up, looking at the tag uncaring.
You immediately reacted, turning your head back as you let out a gasp, moving tates hand away. You looked up at him, standing as he smiled mischievously. "I was just checking the tag.. calm down." He responded, raising his hands up in defense. He had seen your panties.. and oh boy.. he wasn't disappointed. Neither was his dick.
You turned back to the mirror, a little annoyed at him. But, you couldn't lie.. you had quite the crush yourself. Everything he was doing was weird.. but you did like his boldness. You didn't want to admit it, but it did turn you on. How cheeky and careless he was. He was so fun to hang out with.. and he was cute. It was a win win.
Tate looked down at your ass, looking at how tight the shorts were. Damn. You really did things to him. You made him melt.. and he did just the same for you.
Both of you liked each other, a classic romance scenario. But, tate was much bolder than you. You were the opposite of him when you guys were together. Tate had his past.. his dark doings haunting him. He had never been much of a talker, but you had brought him out of his shell.
You had changed him.
"Are you copying me?" He said, dramatically scowling as you laughed a little, looking at him through the mirror. "I did yours, it's my work." You continued as tate leaned on the counter with you, trying to appreciate for who you were without checking you out.
His eyes drifted to your tits a few times, but he managed to control himself. Sadly, his boner wasn't too happy with his good behavior. And soon, as he looked at you a few times, it became painful. Very.
The restraints of his pants were killing him, and his mind was invaded with thoughts of you... him touching you and you touching him. Tate needed to think of something gross, or get off.
He chose get off.
But, the problem was how? He wanted you to help him.. and he came up with the perfect solution as you messed with the eyeliner.
"You'd do anything to like.. help me, right?" He asked out of the blue, his face slightly shaded red. You turned to him, putting down the eyeliner with worry. "Yeah, what's up?" You leaned your head on your hand, looking at him as he shuffled uncomfortably. Actually asking for it made him really nervous.
"Well," he bit down on his tongue as he looked at you, your innocence killing him. "Just.." he sighed, his hand going in his hair as he tried to compose himself. "Don't think I'm weird, okay?" He looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes, seeming to be sincere. You nodded, smiling as you did so. You loved tate. He was your best friend.. your only friend. "Of course, tate." You confirmed, waiting for his supposed confession.
"I've got a boner." He said, his eyes moving from yours as his face turned red. You stared for a moment, almost laughing before realizing he was serious. "And you want me to help you?" You said, your body beginning to heat up. "Yes.. yes.. I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have asked." He said quickly, clearly a bit scared.
This was a little shocking from how bold he had been, but I guess he was just a weird guy overall.
"I can help... yeah." You responded, standing up as you felt a kick of confidence. Tate cleared his throat, looking down at his pants as you did the same. Before he could say anything more, your hand went to the zipper of his pants, undoing it. Tate felt a little surprised, but relieved that you were forward. He smiled to himself, watching as you pulled his dick through, finally letting his hard on free.
He let out a low groan as he watched, your eyes looking down at him before you put your hand around his shaft, looking up at him. He felt his face turn red as he let you suck on his tip, your fist moving up and down along him as you did so. "Fuck.." his head shot back as you did the bare minimum. You hadn't ever done this before, but this was definitely nice to watch. Your mouth went on him deeper, causing him to tug on your hair.
He looked so much hotter in that skull makeup..
You sucked a little harder, his face looking down at yours as he shoved himself farther in your throat, thrusting at a steady pace. "Oh god.." he groaned, pulling out before pulling you up off your knees and instead pushed against the counter. Before you could even react, his hands had tugged down your slutty shorts, revealing your ridiculously small panties. He pushed those to the side, sliding into you with the help of your slick as he filled up your pussy. His grip moved to your hips, you face pushed into the counter from the pleasure and pain mix... "tate.." you moaned, biting down on your lip as he thrusted up into you, hitting your cervix. You let out a yelp, the feeling too much.
"Tate!" This time, you were much louder, and he began to move in and out, looking at you pussy as it slowly got used to his size. "Sorry.." he said quietly, still moving. Apart of him felt bad for just doing that, but you couldn't deny the wonderful feeling that filled your body. "Mm.." you mumbled, Tates thrusts going faster. "You like that?" He pushed out, going faster as each thrust filled your throbbing pussy. You nodded with desperation, your hands clawing at nothing on the counter.
"F-fuck!" You squeaked out, your eyes squeezing shut as your skin plapped with his, his thrusts becoming too much to bare. "Tate! Tate!" You said between grinding teeth, your clit aching with your orgasm approaching. Tate was close too, and with a final moan, he came, pulling out as he watched you ooze with cum. You opened your eyes, looking up at him in the mirror as his face makeup seemed much more blurry.. maybe even ruined with sweat.
"Mmgh.." Tate breathlessly moaned guiding his tip and rubbing your clit with his cock. The overstimulation made him whine some, but it was enough to make you cum. Your eyes rolled back with pleasure, your squeaks and moans growing as you finally hit your climax.
"Thank you.." you said quietly, your legs feeling much more week then usual. "Thank you too.." Tate said in a low tone, feeling as he collapsed next to you, his cock softening after the orgasm.
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Taglist: @kaismanwich @tatelangdonsgirll @daylas-life @hyperharlz @kaiju-superstar @howtobesasha @luttic @spill-the-t @ima0nahlol
Fully aware this sucks sorry. Next scenario based on this ask will be linked once it's posted. 🫠
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courtlyharlequin · 1 year
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I feel like Riddle's lacking in content *sobs* anyways, is it alright if I ask for some cute headcanons where he and his fem s/o raise a baby hedgehog together? Thank u!! (and his girlfriend jokingly says that the hedgehog is their son now XD)
Would You Still Love Our Son if He was a Hedgehog?
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A/N: I think Riddle lacks content too!! That, or people baby him too much. This is such a cute idea though-!! but it seems I'm a little late to it... this ask was from 2021. Forgive me anon. Hopefully, you'll see this this... and I hope you like it. I'm really sorry for leaving you and like the 17 other people in my inbox hanging o(╥﹏╥)o
Though hedgehogs were raised for the Queen of Hearts' absurd customs and tea parties, he always was particularly fond of these spiky and cute creatures. They were cuddly despite having quills and they came in all sorts of colors. Riddle was partial to the pink ones.
Not to mention, they were small enough to fit in his palm. They were always an endearing sight, climbing into his hands or just rolling around the court.
But when you came to him with an ordinary brown hedgehog in your own palms, asking him if you could keep it and raise it within the gardens, he was taken aback. He had a million questions for you: Where did you find this hedgehog? Was there even a pet store around here? Was it a baby? It was so tiny...
"Yes, he is a baby," you replied wholeheartedly.
Ah, so you found him wandering around and decided to take him in. Riddle's gaze softened. Seeing you care for this hedgehog so tenderly makes him want to fold and help you hide this little guy from Crowley.
Well, technically, hedgehogs were allowed in the Heartslabyul dorm, but they were always brought in by the staff. No one had ever brought their own hedgehog. But it's still a hedgehog so it wouldn't hurt, right?
Yes. right. Of course. There were no rules in the school handbook about this sort of thing. Moreover, Riddle had heard that taking care of a pet together with one's significant other is a great bonding activity that also helps with building other skills like time management, communication and responsibilities.
Was it Ace or Cater that said that? Something about 18 years being a trial of life? 18 hedgehog years? He shook his head and gestured for you to bring the little hedgehog closer
The little guy seemed to smile back at him.
"Let's get him to Heartslabyul," Riddle whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards the mirror hall.
There was this rush in his veins. He had only felt this rush twice in his life. First, was when he played with Chenya and Trey for the first time. Second, was when he confessed all the things he didn't like about the Queen's rules.
"Should we take him to meet the other hedgehogs?"
"Would a bath first be better? Riddle asked.
"Hedgehogs need baths?"
"Yes, but not too often," he paused, "I don't think he's ever had one before since you found him on the streets."
"Oh yes, then a bath would be better! I want our son to look good before meeting his new friends!"
Riddle's eyes widened. He blinked once. Then twice. Did he catch that right? Son?
"Our son?"
"The hedgehog!"
"... is our son?" Riddle asked again.
Heat and a tint of crimson was creeping up his keeps. He had barely even thought about having a significant other. You weren't really part of his plan for NRC. It kind of just happened. But marriage? Having a family? Have you really thought that far? It didn't seem like a bad thing though...
"Well, not literally, but we're raising him together so he's like our son, right?"
"I suppose so," Riddle smiled.
You beamed, coddling the small hedgehog, boop-ing his little nose, "I'm glad Papa loves you as much as I do!"
This wasn't the first time Riddle heard you use baby talk. You were always an animal lover and talked like this to most animals you come across. Even the hedgehogs in his own dorm... but somehow this time it felt much more tender.
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cloudcountry · 1 year
Text
mer-shrimpy?
Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!
Summary: The Prefect has an accident in alchemy (courtesy of Ace, Deuce, and Grim) and has turned into a merperson!! Floyd witnesses this and drags them to Octavinelle, where they hang out with the Octotrio until Crewel can reverse the spell.
Author's Comments: i love these absolutely menaces they're my favorite ever i want to hold their hands and hugs them (and give azul smooches.) this ends in kind of a choose your own adventure way?
~~~~~
A bright, multicolored puff of smoke erupted from the cauldron in front of you as Ace and Deuce argued, Grim scurrying around your ankles as he cackled. The noise stopped immediately after the smoke cleared, but you still couldn’t see much of anything. It was only when you realized that you couldn’t breathe very well that you started to panic, flopping around the floor.
Wait, flopping?
You looked down at your legs, only to see the bottom half of a shrimp of all things.
“Bad pups! Stay!” Crewel yelled, quickly approaching your tiny form on the ground, “Ramshackle Prefect, are you alright?”
“Shrimpy?” Floyd leered, peeking over Crewel’s shoulders, “What did you guys do to them, huh?”
Ace and Deuce stepped back a bit, intimidated by the sharp glare Floyd sent their way.
“The water breathing potion must have backfired. What did you add into your potion?” Crewel glared.
“Um…dunno.” Ace mumbled, “I’m sorry, Prefect. I didn’t mean to make you…tiny.”
You tried to voice that it was okay, that you weren’t dying, but nothing came out but sharp shrieking noises and ragged gasps.
“It’s hard to breathe-!” you gasped, choking on air.
“Ehh? It's hard to breathe? You need water or something?” Floyd hummed, his words sending Deuce running to the nearest large plastic container to fill it up for you.
You were more impressed that he’d deciphered what you’d said.
“You can understand me?” you choked out, the sound coming out garbled and raspy.
He tilted his head, kneeling down to you, “Of course I can, Little Shrimp! Did your brain get tiny too? You’re just speaking mer.”
You were about to speak again before Floyd lifted you into his arms, curling his arms around your body and holding you close. He nuzzled your forehead affectionately, his teeth scraping against the skin.
“Leech! Unhand the Prefect!” Crewel demanded, swooping in with the container of water Deuce filled, “This is why you all needed remedial lessons in the first place!”
“Aww, no fun. I wanna play with Shrimpy!” he pouted, turning away and using his upper body to hide you away.
“It’s okay, Floyd. I’ll play with you later.” you promised, “Just please let me breathe.”
“Fiiiine. I don’t want Jade and Azul yelling at me for not taking good care of you. Whatever.” he huffed, annoyed at the idea of letting you go.
He dropped you into the water unceremoniously, the small splash briefly disorienting you before you became used to the feeling of breathing water. It honestly felt like the bathtubs at home, with the container just barely fitting you. Your tail was bent at an odd angle in order for you to breathe properly, and Floyd looked annoyed at your mild discomfort. He brightened up a second later, eyes glinting with mischief.
“I know! Shrimpy, let’s go to my dorm! We have a lot of water, and you can swim all you’d like! Then we can play all we want!” he grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the light.
“That may be the best idea given the situation.” Crewel agreed, turning his gaze to you, “What do you think?”
You nodded, heart jumping at the thought of a bigger pool. You could breathe and have leg room in the Octavinelle pools, though you’d need to learn how to use your new bottom. You couldn’t imagine how hard it had been to transition from a tail to legs for Floyd and Jade, and in Azul’s case, tentacles. You kept trying to move how you would with your legs, but it felt you only had one big leg and only moved one way. Crossing your arms over your chest, you blew annoyed bubbles in the water.
“Aww, Shrimpy’s so cute!” Floyd cooed, scooping up the container with ease, “Come on, we’re going on a trip! Just me and Shrimpyyy!”
You tried your best to hold onto the container as Floyd slung you around the hall, yelling cheerfully about how much fun he was going to have with you. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you’d reach Octavinelle soon.
“Floyd, what are you doing?” someone questioned, the amused tone all too familiar.
“Jade!” he beamed, shoving the container of Jade in Jade’s face, “Look at our Shrimpy! Aren’t they cute?”
Our?!
“Indeed.” Jade chuckled, raising a brow as you floated aimlessly around the water, “I assume you were taking them to the pool in Octavinelle?”
“Where else? We need to keep our little Shrimpy close, don’t we?”
“That we do. I’ll walk with you.”
You wished you could chew them out about this stupid “our” business, but all that came out were more little shrieks and yelps. Floyd laughed, and that’s when you remembered that they could understand you.
“Poor thing. You sound so sad when you talk like that. I can barely understand you.” Jade sighed, acting all disappointed when you knew he was teasing.
“Mean!” you shrieked, and they both laughed.
Sinking back into the water, you blew annoyed bubbles until you found yourself in Octavinelle. The dorm was beautifully decorated, no doubt part of Azul’s influence. You furrowed your brow, looking from left to right. Where was Azul? It was after school, so there was only one other place he could be.
“Don’t fret, Little Pearl.” Jade hummed, staring down at you with half lidded eyes that scream trouble, “If you’re looking for Azul, he’s in his office. Of course, our priority lies with you as of now, but Floyd can retrieve him if you so wish.”
“Ehhh? Why me? I wanna play with Shrimpy.” he moped, holding the container of water closer to his chest.
“Oh, but Floyd, the Little Pearl doesn’t know how to use their tail. Wouldn’t it be more fun to play with them when they can run away? I will teach them the basics while you fetch Azul.” Jade hummed, attempting to placate his brother.
Floyd thought on it for a few seconds before brightening up, showing the container into Jade’s arms. With a loud promise of playing with you later, Floyd bolted towards the VIP Room.
Poor Azul.
“Well hello there.” Jade smiled down at you, his face distorted in the still sloshing water, “What do you say we get you in the pool, hm?”
You nodded, blowing more bubbles in the water. Jade chuckled politely, carrying you off into a hallway near the back of the dorm. You stood stationary inside the water as Jade hummed a tune, finally stopping in front of a door and pushing it open with his hip. The water sloshed over the side of the container, wetting his glove. Jade muttered a quiet apology and set the container down next to the wide expanse of clear water, his soaked gloved hand reaching into the water to pet your head.
“Do you mind if I lift you up? I hardly think dumping someone as delicate as you into a pool would be kind.” he hummed, pulling his gloves off one finger at a time, “I will also be shifting into my merform, so you won’t be lonely.”
You nodded, poking your head above the water. Jade’s bare hands were a sight you’d never seen before, and you were surprised at how soft they looked considering most of his free time was spent digging around in terrariums and even mountains. He noticed you staring, eyes crinkling in the corners as he chuckled. Without any warning, he swooped down gracefully, closing on you far too quickly for your liking. You jerked back, water sloshing over the sides of the container once again as Jade’s fangs glinted in the overhead lights.
“Don’t be shy, Little Pearl.” he cooed, dipping his bare hands into the water and scooping you up as though you were a plant ready to be repotted, “I won’t hurt you. I’ll treat you delicately, with all the care a little morsel like you deserves.”
Your eyes went wide at the morsel comment, but before you could see anything Jade had set you in the pool. Even though the water looked clear on the surface, there was a light fog settling within the water that made it hard to see much of anything. You jumped when you heard a splash a little ways away from you, but when you looked you couldn’t see anything. Fear coursed through your veins as you waited, unable to use your tail to swim towards where you hoped Jade had dove in with you. Gulping water through your gills, you tried to take deep breaths to calm down. They wouldn’t eat you, obviously. This was Jade. He just wanted to see you jump.
And jump you did, when a green blur gently tapped your tail from behind.
You jumped backward, whipping around to face none other than Jade. Crossing your arms, you glared at him as he chuckled, eyes narrowed.
“Apologies, Little Pearl. I wanted to see how you would react. It’s quite entertaining to see you out of your element.” he hummed, swishing his tail around as he darted in circles around you, “Now, do you think you’re ready to try swimming?”
“How do you guys work these things?!” you blurted, flopping in the pool like a fish on land, “It’s so hard to manage-”
“Don’t move it like you’d move your own two legs. Move like your legs have been merged into one.” Jade hummed, smirking at your struggle.
You jerked your tail as you managed to go forward, a small accomplishment in the grand scheme of things. Jade looked so proud though, and you tried not to let him feed your ego too much. He was probably laughing at you internally anyway.
“Good Little Pearl.” he hummed, swimming a bit further away, “Keep going. I’m certain you’ll be able to use that tail of yours efficiently in no time.”
With that praise, you tried even harder to swim towards him. It wasn’t as hard as it used to be now that you were thinking of your bottom as two legs merged together, and it occurred to you that merpeople had to pretend that their tail had been split in two. You wondered how they got used to feet, or even if they’d had a foot cramp before. Did merpeople have tail cramps?
You were too in your own head. As you snapped out of it, you realized that Jade had moved a bit farther, and had gone deeper into the pool. In the dimmer lighting at the bottom, you could swear his golden eye was glowing, beckoning you deeper into the pool like a siren. You almost didn’t go deeper.
Almost.
Curiosity killed the cat, as they said, and curiosity was about to kill you.
So you swam down, chasing after Jade as he darted between the various types of coral, their jagged forms rising from the sand like nature’s fortified towers. Octavinelle was truly a beautiful dorm.
With beautiful people, you thought as you watched Jade look back at you, his eyes gleaming. His expression was playful as he twirled in a circle, darting into some faded yellow coral. Without a second thought, you swam after his, elated that you were finally getting the hang of your tail.
“What are you doing here?!” a loud hissed reverberated in the water, and Jade immediately darted in front of you like a guard dog.
A familiar face poked out from the coral, his blue gray eyes narrowed with annoyance.
“Azul?” you gasped, eyes widening at the surprise, “I thought you were back in your VIP Room?”
“Wh- Angelfish? Why are you a…?” Azul trailed off, head tilting to the side as he examined you, “...Nevermind that. You need to get out. Out! Leave!”
“Azul, it’s okay.” Jade spoke, his voice calm and collected.
He still hadn’t moved away from you though.
“Azul, is everything okay?” you asked, keeping your distance.
The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him.
“Angelfish, please leave. You shouldn’t see me like this.” he sighed, shaking his head as he shrank back into the coral, “It’s not a pretty sight, I assure you. Now, if you will-”
“There’s no part of you that I wouldn’t find nice.” you said, voice so stern it surprised you, “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to show me, but I promise I won’t judge you for anything. I’m literally a shrimp right now.”
You flicked your tail in his direction for emphasis, and Jade snorted. He seemed to have drifted off the side since you two figured out it was Azul and not some other random student.
“Aaaaazul!” Floyd called, darting out of nowhere into the coral Azul was hiding in, “Come play with us!”
“Floyd, no-!” Azul yelped as he was slammed out of his hidey hole, a writhing mass of black following his front as Floyd cackled. Your eyes widened at the appendages as he struggled to hide them, trying to make himself seem as small as possible. He kept shooting you panicked glances, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Floyd swam circles around him.
“Azul? Why are you on edge? Is it because Little Shrimpy’s here?” Floyd teased.
“Azul, I highly doubt Little Pearl cares about such trivial things.” Jade hummed, pressing a hand against your lower back and pushing you the slightest bit forward.
Azul froze on the spot, finally taking the time to look at your expression. There was no disgust, no amusement, no fear. There was just awe and curiosity. He swallowed thickly, feeling like a specimen on an examination table. You slowly swam forward, reaching out slowly, giving him time to pull away. He slammed his eyes shut but didn’t move, feeling your hand slide down one of his tentacles. You hummed as your other hand cupped one of them, flipping it upwards to reveal the suction cups. Azul cracked his eyes open just a bit to see you staring down at his chubby hideous revolting body with such much adoration that it made his heart jump into his throat. He couldn’t breathe.
“You’re really pretty, Azul.” you murmured, pulling the tentacle closer and letting it wrap around your hand, its actions shaky and slow, “You’re gorgeous like this.”
“See? What did I tell ya? Little Shrimpy doesn’t care.” Floyd laughed, poking Azul at the base of his tentacles.
“I’m not so sure about that, Floyd. They seem to care quite a bit.” Jade chuckled.
Another black tentacle wrapped itself around your waist as his purple tinted skin turned pink. He refused to meet your gaze as you accepted his touch without a bit of repulsion, your eyes affectionate and happy as if asking him to keep going. He yanked himself away before he could pull you into his chest and hug you for hours.
“Come swim with us, Azul!” Floyd called, snapping at him with his teeth as he giggled, “You can’t hog Shrimpy all day! That’s not faaair!”
“Floyd is right, you know. You should thank him for going to get you in the first place. That was very generous of him.” Jade hummed.
“I was here the whole time.” Azul mumbled, and you shook your head at their antics.
“I’d like to make the most of this form while I’m still in it. It’s been fun so far!” you bounced a bit in the water, curling your tail in and out.
“Aww, Shrimpy’s so cute!” Floyd giggled, his expression immediately shifting to annoyance when he processed what you meant, “Ehh? What do ya mean? We’re going to have you over like this again, Shrimpy. You’re not getting away that easily.”
“Indeed.” Jade began circling you, a sinister look on his face, “You’re such a small little morsel, it would be the same if we didn’t have a chance to catch you.”
A shiver shot down your spine as Floyd followed his twin’s example, the both of them circling you menacingly as Azul stared disappointingly at them.
“If you two keep freaking them out, they’ll never come back again.” he pointed out, tugging you closer by the tail, “Don’t scare the poor angelfish. ”
“It’s just a little fuuun.” Floyd giggled, brightening up at the thought of forcing you over again, “Come on Shrimpy, wouldn’t you like that?”
“Sketchy undertones aside, I agree. I think it’d be nice to try this out again, even just swimming in my human form. It’s like stress relief.” you mused.
“Professor Crewel should be working on a cure already. We best make haste if we’re to enjoy you to the fullest.” Jade smiled his close-eyed smile, “Little Pearl, if you will.”
He gestured to the coral around you as Floyd’s yellow eye gleamed mischievous. When Jade opened his eyes, you noticed his yellow eye was glowing too.
“You may hide, and we will seek you out.” he chuckled, tilting his head slightly, “Wouldn’t you enjoy that?”
“Oh yes, Shrimpy! It’ll be so fun. We’ll try to take a bite out of you.” Floyd laughed.
 Azul shook his head exasperatedly, holding out a hand to you.
“If you do not wish to join their game of cat and mouse, I can show you around the deeper ends of the pool.” he murmured, “I’m sure you would enjoy the secret’s I’ve stashed away.”
You looked between the three, contemplating which to try first. Well, what’ll it be, dear Prefect?
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unclewaynemunson · 9 months
Text
Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)
Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.
Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.
Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.
Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.
Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.
But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.
Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.
He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.
“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”
“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.
“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”
And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.
So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.
More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?
Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.
He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.
They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.
While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.
“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.
“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.
Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.
“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”
“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.
“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”
“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”
Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.
“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”
“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”
“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”
“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”
Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.
“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”
He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.
“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”
Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.
“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.
And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?
His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.
“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”
Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”
“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.
“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”
Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...
Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.
He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.
“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.
And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.
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reallyromealone · 7 days
Text
Title: fae love
Fandom: none
Characters: original character (orc), reader
Fic type: nsfw, story
Pairings: orc x male reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, smut, reader has some description, boy pussy term used, reader is a fae, chaotic reader
Notes: I thought I posted this but I didn't, this is super indulgent, and yeah. Normally this would go through Patreon first but I'm feeling kind
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
(name) smiled as he was carried by the giant orc that was his mate, a towering ten feet tall to (name) 's five feet four inches, the pretty fae kissing the orc's olive cheek sweetly as they went back to their farm, a sweet little farm in the woods outside of town "I told you no more fires in non agreed fireplaces" he said gruffly to (name) who just smiled "you're the one who chose to become fated mates with me~"
The Orc sighed, looking at the gold ring on (name) 's finger and the wedding necklace, indeed he chose (name) for marriage, he did love his chaotic husband.
(Name) often treated his husband like a jungle gym, the tiny fae usually resting on his shoulder as he went about things and used his magic for various tasks "My love, please... You're awful at cooking" he swatted (name)s hand away when (name) tried to help by adding flower petals to the stew "but they make the stew look magical ~!" Was (name) 's reasoning as he watched the other stir the rabbit and vegetable soup "I added extra (vegetable), magical enough?" The orc gently kissed the other calf, tusks grazing (name) 's flesh, and (name) giggled "You romantic~"
(Name) always sat in his husband's lap when they ate and spoke about their days, (name) in the woods building little homes for the mouse village as they wanted to expand--- thankfully their building supplies were primarily popsicle sticks, the Orc gladly letting his love do that, especially since the mouse folk traded for mushrooms and herbs they find, it also kept (name) from causing mischief amongst the fae wilds, the two living outside the fae wild portal ring and often seeing passerbys that (name) would prank (read: setting their shoes on fire).
It was always a serene affair.
Well for (name).
When bedtime came, (name) carefully took off his jewelry as did his husband, removing any makeup for the night against the candlelight "Oh..." (Name) whispered as he felt his love's large hards easily spread his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs "been energetic these days, causing problems..." The orc said as (name) leaned into his broad chest and felt the other large cock against his ass "Have no output for this energy..." (Name) said back breathlessly as he already imagined the sweet stretch of the other cock "need something... Big to help me relax" he cooed and grinned impishly when his large husband tossed him on the giant bed, something they invested in long ago.
The orc pulled down his pants, large girthy cock erect and heavy, a deep red tip that slowly turned green "pretty.." fourteen inches that (name) couldn't help but feel giddy as he crawled to the other and gently took the others cock in his hands, kissing the tip sweetly as he stroked the shaft with both hands, taking the tip into his mouth as he gently placed his hands on his abdomen and a womb tattoo appeared, already using magic to keep his body intact so the other could fill him fully, essentially an infinity spell to not kill him.
The taste of pre-cum made (name) hazy, fae pre-cum and the likes were aphrodisiacs, (name) 's eyes heavy as the effects of the tattoo began "Gonna take me well... Always do" the orc grumbled as he watched (name) stroke him off and trying to take him but sadly he just couldn't fit him in, not without using magic to warp his body.
And last time that happened it was horrific when he let (name) do the magic using.
Jaw unhinging and face distorting...the poor orc couldn't look at his husband the same for a week.
"Lemme see that ass" (name) let himself be manhandled into his husband's hold, upside down as he held onto the other cock while being held in the air, letting out a shaky breath when he felt his loves tongue lick from his balls to his ass and circling his hot tongue around the rim as (name) shakily stroked the orcs cock as his husband's long tongue went down to curl around (name)s cock, average in size but tiny to the massive orc who felt the aphrodisiac affects himself as his large fingers pushed into (name)s ass.
(Name) Whined and moaned as he felt himself fall apart, clinging onto the other's cock like a lifeline as his ass was finger fucked and his cock licked methodically "Please... Need it..." He needed that itch scratched, yelping when his husband smacked his ass "Behave" the other grunted as his tusks scraped (name)s lower ass cheeks.
(Name) Was manhandled onto his back, for a moment he felt giddy thinking he was getting the other big cock but let out a loud cry as his husband's index middle and ring finger fucked his ass aggressively, veins showing up on the orc's arms as he fucked as hard as he could against (name)s prostate as (name) climaxed hard but the other continued fucking through his climax, watching intensely.
He could barely muster words, the two having a safe word as their sessions got... Intense so the mewls of "stop" and "I can't!" Fell on deaf ears as the orc grinned at his lover's fucked out expression as he slowly pulled his wet fingers out "Your little ass-pussy is ready... You good there baby boy?" He asked as (name) whined "please..." (Name) Begged as he let his husband kiss him slowly, lining his giant cock to (name)s poor entrance and pushing in, shushing his whined at the sensation. no matter how many times they did it, it still stung as the orc slowly bottomed out.
"You did so good, my love" the orc soothed him as he let (name) adjust, no matter how much prep the sweet face needed to adjust for a few minutes as his body twitched helplessly "Big..." (Name) Whined as he felt his husband kiss stray tears.
The two stayed like this for a few moments before (name) gave the ok and the other slowly began thrusting, pushing out to the tip and pushing in, with each thrust he slowly picked up speed. "Oh! Fuck!" (Name) Gasped as he felt the other's balls slap against his ass, hips bruising as he was fucked like a doll.
"More!"
"Yes!"
"O-oh!"
Climaxes and moans, scratches and bites were all the things that (name) got and gave as his legs stretched with a slight burn, riding his beloved as his wings stretched out, previously hidden with magic as a harsh climax rolled through and the dust from his wings lifting them slightly "yes! Fuck me with that cock!" (Name) Scratched down the other's chest as he developed more fae features, unable to keep his magic back.
"Gonna cum in that pretty hole, take it all!" (Name) Collapsed as he was stuffed, stomach bulging as his husband filled his belly with cum.
"There... Keep you from setting trees on fire for a few days..."
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
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tiny prancer || alanna kennedy x reader ||
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you talk to alanna about your feelings after watching her play with harper.
"higher! higher!" your eyes drifted away from the interviewer once again as you heard harper's shrill shrieks of delight. she had been devastated whenever she saw you on the pitch, but had been immediately told that you were busy by gorry. luckily, alanna had swooped right in and picked the girl up before her pout could dissolve into a fit of tears. and now, you were swooning while trying to complete your media stuff for the day.
"sorry, sorry. this has been a hard comeback, but i'm grateful for my manchester family. i'd hate to give united their props, but those girls have also been so supportive. for our rivalry to be put aside, it means a lot. i'm very thankful for so many of my fellow players in the league from teams all over the country," you said. it was a good answer, one that people could tell came from the heart.
you had been away for nearly a year after a huge injury and bigger setback. it had truly been a freak accident, your knee giving out on you and the subsequent fall breaking your leg as you fell. there hadn't been any dirty tackles, and aside from alanna, the first person who had been at your side had been a manchester united player. some of those girls had really become some of your best friends when you needed a break from your teammates.
"well, everybody is excited to see you come back on the pitch this weekend. it has been overdue, and if the practice footage from this week is anything to go by, you're definitely in top form." you thanked the interviewer for their kind words before both of you were dismissed. almost immediately, you turned and jogged over to where alanna and harper were playing.
"do you have room for one more?" you asked. as into playing with alanna harper had been, she was quick to go to you. it had been hard for you not being able to play, but still going to practices over the course of the year, and harper was a big part of that. gorry had joked that you and alanna were like her other mothers, something that had always caused alanna to tense up a bit. although, you had noticed that she had seemed more okay with the joke, occasionally having a longing look on her face for the next week or so.
"of course we do, don't we harper? we always have room for prancer, don't we?" you rolled your eyes at the nickname alanna had not-so lovingly given you back at youth camp in australia. truthfully, the two of you had legitimately hated each other a little bit back then, but both of you had done a lot of growing up since then.
"we love prancer," harper said. you knew that she had probably been working on that for a while. harper had never called you that without alanna being directly beside her. alanna nudged her side, and harper stood up to give you a hug. "do you get to play at the game?"
"i do for a little bit, so i can't sit with you on the bench at first, but they don't want to hurt me again, so i'll probably be there for the second half," you told her. harper pouted a little, but she understood. there had been several long talks about you going back on the pitch where you belonged.
harper wordlessly handed you a doll to play with, explaining much better than alanna tried to what was happening. that game didn't last very long due to alanna's antsiness. the three of you played a game of tag, which ended with alanna and harper ganging up on you. alanna picked you up in her arms, gently placing you on the ground where she peppered your face and neck in kisses while harper tickled at your sides until gorry came to get her.
"i was nervous when we got here," you admitted. alanna knew it already, but you had been stubborn in insisting that you were fine. "everybody always says they can't wait for someone else to make their return, but i know what they weren't saying."
"don't think about it like that, okay? think about other things like how harper and i kicked your ass at tag," alanna joked. you punched her in the shoulder, earning you a bite to the thigh. "be nice. if harper sees you being mean to me, she'll think it's okay. i swear that kid loves you more than anybody else sometimes."
"we've become bench buddies, that's all. i bet when we have a kid, they'll love you the most. you'll get to be the fun parents, and i'll have to be strict," you sighed. alanna shot up and stared down at you, a confused, yet hopeful look on her face. "what?"
"what did you say?" alanna asked. you shrugged as you moved up onto your elbows. "you said 'when' not 'if' we have a kid. d-do you want to have kids with me?"
"kids? someone is getting ahead of themselves, but yeah, of course i do. i've been thinking about it, and seeing you with harper confirms it. before you came along and fucked everything up for my little 14 year old self, i was going to accept a promise ring from a boy. who knows how many kids i'd have now?" you said.
"i like the idea of a bunch of little prancers running around, but only if they've got the last name kennedy," alanna said. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. you kissed her back, smiling into it a little. "how long have you wanted little kennedy babies?"
"alanna, don't," you tried, but it was too late. she was on something trying to get this out of you. truthfully, it had been before you were even injured, but you knew that you had been lucky then if alanna wanted to admit you were exclusively together at that point. she had fancied herself a player, something that only got worse whenever leila arrived at the club and they became friens.
"come on, i deserve to know. maybe if i've kept you waiting, i'll be sweet," alanna offered. you knew that she would be extremely sweet, but you'd have to get through the annoying phase first.
"fine, the first camp that i said we were together and harper was there. all the girls kept making fun of me because trying to tie you down was still a 'lost cause' or something," you said. alanna did the math in her head. you could tell whenever she had gotten there because a smile broke out on her face. "please don't be an ass about this, okay?"
"you thought i'd be a good parent back then?" alanna asked. you shrugged, unsure of what you had really thought. you just knew that you trusted alanna and wanted to do something special with her. "wow, maybe you really did love me back then too."
"of course i did. alanna, i've never been someone who could sleep with anybody i didn't love." you looked away from her, slightly ashamed of yourself. the girls had teased you a lot about your body count, which was the girl you made yourself fall for to forget about alanna hating you, and alanna herself. they had sort of thought you were joking, especially alanna, until you blew up at them for making fun of you.
"well then, i feel honored to be your person. and as much as i'd love to go to the doctor now and try to get you pregnant, your parents, gorry, and macca would kill me if i did," alanna pointed out. "so, what do we do?"
"let me play this season, and if things don't physically feel right in that way, we can look to starting a family sooner. we don't have to do this any other way than the one we want, remember that." you cradled alanna's face and pressed a kiss to her nose. despite the fact that you wanted a baby then and there, you were fine with waiting until alanna felt more comfortable.
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st-el-la-luna · 3 months
Text
Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader
tumblr deleted the orgininal for whatever reason. Luckily I tracked down a reblog. Edited and added some new stuff (love tumblr for deleting my most popular post, rip my 600+ notes 😔)
NSFW 18+
Soap is forced into an early retirement. He gets a job at a small bakery. And that's where he meets you
➔ gn!afab!reader (described as having boobs & wearing a bra), creepy soap, pervy soap, obsessive soap, lust at first sight, non/dub-con cum eating, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, humping inanimate objects, coming in panta
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After so many years working in the military, serving his country. Protecting the people of the world from danger. The last thing Soap expected waas tyo be discharged so suddenly and with so little warning.
Too much time working with explosives has affected his hearing. A bad knife wound, or a torn Achilles tendon. A bad break that never healed right. A couple of head injuries too many. 
"An early retirement," they'd called it. Forced retirement more like it. They won't even tell him why, just that he's, "no longer fit for active duty," and that he should be grateful that they, "got him such a nice deal. That he gets to keep his pension."
He’s bitter about it, understandably, He likes his job. He’s good at it. They can’t be serious about this! His performance hasn’t been hindered. 
Regardless of the reason, in spite of his arguments, Soap is benched, permanently. Price is apologetic, Ghost is... Distant, though that's to be expected. Gaz promises to keep in touch. And he does keep in touch, they all do. 
But it’s ot the same. Soap still feels lonely. Bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or all the time he suddenly has on his hands. Doesn’t know how to operate without the adrenaline rush, without something to occupy his hands and minds. He figures that, maybe, he should get a job. A civilian job. Not one of those cushy desk jocky jobs Price had offered him out of pity, Soap wants a job far removed from the military. Really reintegrate himself into normal, civvie life. 
After a bit of searching along the drizzly cobbled Glasgowian streets, Soap finds a little coffee shop and bakery nearby. A tiny, quaint little thing, run by a sweet old woman who just doesn't have the energy to keep the doors open on her own. 
The place is situated on a street corner, tucked away from the busy traffic-filled streets. A soft bell jingles when the door opens. The sign is hsand painted. The place, though clearly aged, is well looked after, loved. The wood floors and counters shine; the tables and chairs, though antique, are comfortable, well made; plants hang from the ceiling; and a couple bookshelves line a wall, a leave a book take a book community library. 
Soap applies for the position and despite his lack of experience, he gets the job. Something about him reminding the old woman of her own son. 
At first, Soap worked there with her. Learning the ins and outs of the trade. How to make meringue and bread and macrons and creme brûlé. It's not easy, not at first, but with practice and time, he gets the hang of it. 
He figures it's because of his experience with explosives and chemistry. Baking is... Kind of the same thing. 
Eventually, he's left to tend to the day-to-day affairs of the bakery. The woman still writes all the recipes and makes some of the breads. But he's the one managing the front of the house. 
It's where he meets you. 
Sweet. Kind. Polite. Breathtaking. Irresistible. Sexy. You. 
You come tumbling into the warm bakery on a day when the weather is particularly bad, even for Scotland. Strong winds, cold rains threatening to turn to hail, thunder rumbling in the distance. 
You're soaked to the bone. Hair dripping. Shoes leaving puddles in your wake as each of your steps is announced by a wet squish. Your full cheeks bitten by the cold, fingertips numb, you offer him a blinding smile. 
He's more focused on your tits though. And your bra. Visible through your thin, now see-through, shirt. Black lace. He can see how your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. He can even see a small mole, or maybe a birthmark, on the swell just above the cup of your bra. He wants to sink his teeth into you. Wants to suck that mark into his mouth, chew and lick at it, make it bigger. Make it his. Make you his.  
He's drooling a little, he realizes absently. 
"Hey," you say softly, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. Hands curled into adorable little sweater paws as you try to wipe your wet hands off on your equally wet pants. 
Soap just stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Shell shocked. He... He’s never... You’re so... He... Holy fuck. 
Eventually, he clears his throat and manages a smile, stepping a bit closer to the counter so he can hide the growing tent in his pants. He forces himself to meet your eyes, rather than stare at your chest. 
But they’re staring at me, his innermost thoughts whine, wanton and airy in his mind. So desperate for attention... for love... ready to be suckled and bit and groped and pinched... 
Johnny leans forward, elbows resting on the counter and chuckles, flashing you an easy, charming smile. "Hey... Looking for something to warm you up?" 
Please say you've already found what you're looking for. Please say you want him to warm you up. With his hands. His mouth. His cock. Please say– 
"Yeah... Do you guys do hot chocolates?" 
"It's not on the menu, but I've got my own stash in the back," he says as he looks you up and down. But how could you blame him? What with your... everything! This is your fault, honestly. Dirty, dirty, little thing, wearing a white shirt in the rain. You know what you’re doing. Something sinister and heated bubbles in his gut. A thick, molten, syrupy desire, a primal need. A sort of instinctive pull, a fish lured in by the soft glow of an angler fish. A moth to a flame. Helpless but to stare, slack jawed, and fighting back drool, as you stare up at him expectantly, He smiles, his lips spreading further as he notices your flustered state, how you shift under his stare, biting your lip as he looks you up and down. Logically, it’s a nervous reaction. But, in Soap’s quickly spiraling mind, it’s a clean indicator that you want him too. "I'll make one, special for you, darling." 
Your eyes sparkle, your smile tears the breath from his lungs. "Really? Oh my god, thank you." 
Soap grabs a mug from the shelf and twirls it around his finger. He pulls up his sleeves, bunching them around his mid biceps. He flexes, purposefully, showing off the hard-earned muscles in his arms, the scars, the prominent veins, his big, strong hands. Hands that would look so perfect around your neck. Or holding your wrists. Or deep between your shaking legs reaching deep and good, far past anything you could reach on his own. He wonders if you’re a crier. He hopes that you are. 
Soap notices the way your eyes fall to the newly exposed skin. The way your jaw drops a little. The way you close your mouth. The way you glance away before quickly looking back. The way your throat bobs when you swallow... 
Holy shit. 
He can give you something else to swallow if you'll let him. Please let him. 
He rolls his hips against the counter and lets out a stuttering breath through his nose. His lips part. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth. 
A moan bubbles in his throat, he disguises it as a cough. "Can..." He swallows another noise as he shifts his stance, achingly cock pressed against the teeth of his zipper. He makes a show of dusting the counter off, acting like he's tossed something into the bin so he can adjust his pants. "Can I get you anything else?" 
Your eyes, gorgeous eyes, scan the menu and the display. "A cinnamon bun?" You ask, pointing to the delicacy through the glass case. "Please and thank you." 
"You're in luck," he says, rutting against the counter again, as quick and harsh as he can without drawing attention. A part of him thoough, a sick, twisted, part of him that quickly spreads his mind like a weed, corrupting and poisoning, wants you to notice. Wants you to catch him. To punish him. "Just made a fresh batch... I've just got to head back and ice them." 
"Oh, I'm fine with one of them from the display, you don't need to trouble yourself." 
Oh, and how sweet you are... 
You keep chewing on your bottom lip. Part of him wants to stop you, tell you that that’s his job. Wants to bite your lips until they’re raw and swollen. 
He's fucked. Well and truly fucked. 
He smiles. You’re blissfully ignorant of the darkness lurking in his eyes. "No trouble at all... It's my pleasure." 
And it is his pleasure. Very much so. 
He comes out a bit later, a little out of breath. A little red in the face. A couple buttons undone on his shirt. 
"Hot in there," he says with a smile, setting the mug and a cinnamon bun on the counter in front of you. He sets another little plate down, a doughnut. Chocolate frosting with a cream filling, the sticky white substance still pouring from the hole. 
"I uh, I didn't order that," you say with a little, awkward laugh. "The doughnut." 
"I know you didn't, sweet thing... It's a new recipe I've been trying out. Trying to get right... Mind telling me what you think? It's free of charge, promise." 
"Oh," you blink, staring up at him with those wide eyes. God, how he wants to see those eyes watering. How he wants to see those eyes tearing up as you choke on his cock. How he wants to see you cry as he fucks you. You smile. "Thank you!" 
You pay for your drink and dessert and blink up at him from under your lashes. Your smile turns shy as you chew your lip. Stop it. Stop it. You’re going to make him lose his mind. You have to know what you’re doing to him. You have to. "Keep the change." 
He smiles. "Thanks." 
You find a seat in the corner and settle in the corner with a book. Soap keeps an eye on you the whole time. Watches you as much as he can without attracting unwanted attention. 
His cock throbs in his pants when he sees you take your first bite of the cinnamon roll. When you wipe at the icing with your thumb and lick it clean. He watches with delight as you eat and drink, rolling his hips against the counter in time with the bobbing of your throat as you swallow. 
Soap watches you with rapt attention as you enjoy the desserts. His lips parted, jaw slack, drooling. He wonders if he could convince you to lick it away. He is so glad that he stopped by the office to record the security footage. He’s going to be watching this over and over and... Fuck! 
With a final grind of his aching cock against the counter, his boxers are flooded with a wet, sticky warmth. He mourns it going to waste like that. His cum belongs in you. Your tight pussy, round ass, past your full lips. 
"How was it?" He asks, breathless, when you return your dishes to the counter. He shifts his stance, hiding the wet spot in his pants. He's not embarrassed that he came in his pants just from watching how your throat moves as you swallow. At watching the way that you lave your tongue over your fingers, licking the thick glaze away with a spit-slicked tongue. 
He just doesn't want to weird you out. 
"It was amazing," you say. "I really liked the balance of the sweet with the salty... Sometimes the sugar is just... Too much." 
"I agree," Soap says, breathless. He swallows a lump in his throat. "I agree." 
You become a regular from then on. He always gets you freshly baked items, from the back. No matter how busy. 
He's not supposed to alter the recipes. But he doubts the lady will mind that he made a change. All he did was put a little love into the recipes. A little bit of himself in the sour cream glaze. 
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Keep your eyes peeled for a part 1.5 involving what soap did in the back room!
Comments and reblogs help motivate!
Masterlist!
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lendeah · 2 months
Text
Valentine's Day Special!
Merryment Festival
Synopsis: To commemorate the Merryment Festival in your hometown, you decide to give Astarion a gift. Pairing: Astarion x GN! Bard Reader Words: 2.6k Tags: Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff , Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just cute stuff 
a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
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"Back in my hometown, we had an annual festival called Merryment Festival," you said wistfully, tracing your finger over his bare chest.
He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "A festival for merriment? How delightfully cheesy."
You smiled, lost in the memories. "It was held at around this time of the year every spring and was a big event in our town."
"I never would have guessed that there's a single festival in your tiny little village."
You rolled your eyes, playfully punching his shoulder.
"What did you picture, Astarion? That we only had cows and pigs and chickens? That's so stereotypical..."
The vampire laughed, using his cold fingers to brush your hair away from your face. "Then enlighten me, my dear. What exactly is this festival you speak of? Please don't tell me it's just another reason for the common folk to get drunk."
You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.
"Actually, there is plenty of drinking involved," you admitted with a chuckle. "But the Merryment festival was a time for everyone to come together and celebrate life and love."
"Celebrate love?" He let out a snort. "So it is an excuse for everyone to get together and make more commoners. How utterly wonderful."
A pout formed on your lips as you absorbed his words, a twinge of disappointment stirring within you at his lack of enthusiasm for your favorite festivity. But you were determined to show him just how special it was.
"It's not just about making more commoners, Astarion," you argued. "It's about celebrating love in all its forms. It's a time for couples to reaffirm their love for each other and for singles to hope for new beginnings."
"Oh? I wasn't aware that the commoners needed an excuse to fornicate." Astarion sneered. "They seem to be doing just enough of it without this Merryment festival of yours."
"Astarion! It's not like that!" you whine, "There was music and dancing. Everything was covered in wild flowers. And there would also be competitions for the best couple dance or the most romantic poem!"
"So you're telling me the entire village throws a party for the duration of an entire week to... Dance? And compete for romance?" Astarion looked at her, his mouth curved into a smirk. "That truly is a spectacular waste of time, the village must have nothing better to do."
You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. "It's not a waste of time, Astarion. It's a celebration of love and life."
Astarion's fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your back as he challenged, "What about the people who are here alone? Do they just sit and watch as the couples make a spectacle of themselves?"
"Well, kind of... But sometimes they can participate in the competitions as well, or find someone to dance with." You explained, getting a bit flustered.
"Oh, so you danced with your villager loverboy then?" he prodded, a hint of teasing in his tone.
You swallowed nervously.
"I mean, I was there, but I mostly just watched from a distance."
Astarion's eyes widened and his hand paused its gentle caress on your back. He burst into a fit of laughter, his voice filling the room. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you realized you had just confessed your biggest secret to him - that you had never experienced the joyous festivities of the Merryment festival.
"That's preposterous! How can you love something so passionately when you have never experienced it yourself?" Astarion exclaimed between giggles.
You couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame and guilt wash over you. It was true, you had always been too shy to join in on the festivities. While everyone else was out there dancing and having fun, you would stay hidden in the shadows, watching from afar.
"Um... well, I guess I just never found the right person to participate with." You mumbled.
Astarion's mischievous smirk softened into a warm, genuine smile as he took in your shy admission. He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours.
"Oh darling, I think you already have found someone." His breath brushed against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. "How lucky I am to be your first," he purred.
You tremble beneath the thin bedroll, your exposed skin prickling with goosebumps and your cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. Astarion's words left you at a loss for how to respond.
"I never would have imagined..." you stuttered, still trying to process his confession. "I often dreamed of dancing with someone and exchanging gifts according to our tradition... if only I had met you back then." Letting out a sigh, you gazed into his eyes and reached up to gently stroke his cheek. "But it doesn't matter now. You're here with me, and that's all that truly matters."
He grasped your hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on the back of your palm. The gentle gesture sent a shiver through your body, and you couldn't contain the smile that spread across your face.
"And what present would you have preferred to receive from your hypothetical significant other?" he asked, softly.
You paused for a moment, thinking back to your childhood fantasies of Merryment festival. "Maybe a book? Or a new flute?" you pondered deeply before coming to a sudden realization. "No, no! I know exactly what I wanted." You gave him a small smile. "I wanted someone to write me a dedicated poem."
"Ah, a poem?" Astarion wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Of all the things you could want, and you want a poem?"
His reaction made you pout. "I think it's romantic," you say, hoping he'll see your perspective. "But I guess romance isn't really your forte. The closest thing to romance we've shared was when we read that erotic book together."
Astarion reclined in his seat, a cunning grin playing on his lips. "My dear, if you were seeking lovey-dovey poems and romantic gestures, your time would have been better spent with Wyll or Gale."
You snorted. "Yeah, how unfortunate I fell in love with a grumpy vampire."
"Excuse me? I am not grumpy! I simply... I don't like all the fluttering romance. I'm more of a practicer, more a... seducer."
"Practicer," you chuckled, "That's a nice way to put it." You leaned into him, feeling the cold of his body against yours.
He gently wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "And there's no better way than practically demonstrating my love for you, my dear."
You bit back a grin, your heart fluttering in your chest at his words. "So, you're saying... seduction is your way of being romantic?"
He gave you a quick peck on the lips. "Romance is a game for amateurs."
"You're incorrigible," you teased lightly, poking him in the side.
The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing, occasionally stealing kisses from each other. As the night wore on and your eyelids grew heavy, his strong arms enveloped you, cocooning you as you drifted to sleep. Your mind wandered to the Merryment Festival, just days away, and a wave of longing washed over you. How bittersweet it was to have finally found your soulmate after years of searching, only to be separated by a thousand miles from your hometown festivities.
But then, an idea ignited in your mind: why not give Astarion a gift? It didn't have to be anything extravagant, just something simple yet meaningful. Something to honor the spirit of the festival and show Astarion that you cared for him.
The next morning, you awoke with a renewed sense of determination. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the small cracks in the tent. As Astarion peacefully meditated beside you, you carefully untangled yourself from the bedroll and tip-toed out into the brisk morning air. With a destination in mind, you set off towards the bustling Baldur's Gate town market, eager to find the perfect gift for Astarion. Amidst the rows of colorful stalls, you skimmed through an array of goods, admiring handcrafted trinkets and aromatic spices. The smells of fresh bread and exotic fruits mingled together, creating a tantalizing aroma that filled your senses. Each stall seemed to hold its own treasures, but you were determined to find something special for your companion.
Eventually, you stumbled upon a quaint stall adorned with exquisite, handcrafted jewelry. Your gaze was drawn to one unique piece in particular: a scarlet pendant that shimmered with a particular aura. As you approached, the stall owner, a strong half-orc woman, immediately noticed your interest.
"Ah, you have an eye for the unique, dear," she chimed in with a warm smile. "That is our special Bloodstone Pendant. Every piece is crafted from a drop of blood and imbued with powerful magic."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you picked up the piece, the stone cold against your fingers. A drop of blood...
"How is it made?" You found yourself asking.
The elderly woman's eyes twinkled as she explained. "A willing volunteer donates a bit of blood. That blood is then petrified through an ancient magical process only known to our kin. It's then shaped and set into the pendant akin to the one you now hold."
"And what makes it so unique?" you asked curiously.
"Every stone contains the emotions of its donor. When the holder touches it, they can experience those emotions as if they were their own. It's like carrying a piece of someone you love with you at all times."
Without any hesitation, you readily agreed to give a small sample of your blood. The half-orc woman smiled warmly at your eagerness and guided you to a small table in the rear of her stall. She arranged a vial and lancet on the table, ready to extract the needed blood. As she pierced your finger with the lancet, a sharp pain shot through your hand. But you ignored it as you watched the drops of blood fill the vial, mesmerized by its deep crimson color.
Once the vial was filled, the woman carefully sealed it and began working on shaping it into a pendant. You could feel a strange energy emanating from the stone as she worked, almost like it was pulsing with life.
Finally, the woman presented you with the finished product: a beautiful scarlet pendant with intricate designs etched into its surface.
"Thank you," you said with genuine gratitude, as you paid for the necklace. "This is perfect."
The woman smiled warmly at you. "It's my pleasure," she replied. "I hope it brings joy and love to whoever wears it."
The bustling market slowly faded into the background as you made your way back to camp, eager to give Astarion his gift. The pendant, nestled against your pocket, radiated warmth and seemed to hum with anticipation. As evening descended upon the camp, and you and Astarion settled in for the night, you reached out and took his hand in yours. He looked up at you with curious eyes.
"I have something for you," you said with a gentle smile, holding out a small velvet pouch to Astarion.
He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, taking the pouch from your hand. He opened it and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the beautiful pendant inside. He held it in his hand, turning it over to examine it closely.
"What is this?" Astarion asked.
"It's a gift for you," you replied. "Happy Merryment Festival."
Astarion's lips curved into a genuine smile as he gazed at the necklace. "A blood pendant." he said.
You frowned slightly, "How did you know?"
"It reeks of your blood, darling." He brought it closer to his nose, inhaling deeply. "Though, what a lovely smell it is." His fingers gently traced the elegant patterns, his smile growing wider. "Thank you, I truly adore it," he said sincerely, his gaze meeting yours.
You watched him with a small smile, enjoying the peaceful moment before speaking.
"Now you will always have my blood with you, even if we are not close." you finally said.
"Is that so?" he murmured, reaching up to touch the pendant reverently. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and you could feel him experiencing your emotions as if they were his own. When his eyes finally opened again, they shone brightly in the dim light of their shared tent. "It's... remarkable."
"I'm glad you like it," you replied softly.
Astarion's gaze settled on you again, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours. The kiss started off soft and tender, but quickly grew heated as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer. You couldn't help but shiver as his fangs gently grazed your skin.
After a few moments, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. His thumb gently brushed across your cheek as he stared into your eyes. "You truly are one of a kind," he whispered.
The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments, relishing the comfort of each other's company. Reluctantly, he broke away and seemed to fidget with nervousness.
"I- um." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I have something for you too."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Really? You don't need to give me anything just because-"
He rolled his eyes as he tried to hide his nervousness with a cocky grin. "Come on, darling, humility is such an unnatractive trait. I know I don't have to, but I wanted to," he stated confidently. However, his hands shook slightly as he reached into his bag and retrieved a petite book, extending it towards you with eagerness. He whispered a "Happy Merryment Festival, or whatever" under his breath, trying to sound composed but failing to hide his true emotions.
Turning the small book over in your hands, your fingers graced the embossed title on the cover. It was a collection of poems, each page filled with graceful handwriting. Your eyes widened as you realized that the handwriting was Astarion's.
"These are... your poems?" You asked, your voice echoing with surprise and awe.
Astarion nodded again, looking slightly embarrassed now, but feigning nonchalance. "I have been compiling poetry over the years, just for the chance I would have someone deserving to gift them to. And now that I have someone... you who has so graciously been keeping my life interesting, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity."
You looked up at Astarion, your heart swelling with emotion. "They're beautiful," you whispered, flipping through the pages and absorbing each word. The pages were filled with beautiful handwritten verses, each one more passionate and lyrical than the last.
"Most were only written while I was in a particularly romantic mood, though some I wrote specifically for you."
His words made you heart stop. He had dedicated you a poem. No, he had dedicated you multiple poems. Each word poured from his soul onto the page, declaring his love in the most beautiful way. As you read them, tears pooled in your eyes, moved beyond words.
"This is... I'm..." Your voice faltered as you struggled to find the right words. "I can't believe you wrote all of these," you finally managed to choked out between sobs, unable to contain the overwhelming joy and love in your heart. The pages felt like a treasure.
"Well, I have been around for quite some time," Astarion quipped with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
But his attempt at humor only made you cry harder. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around you and soothed your back with gentle caresses. After some time, your tears began to subside and you pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Astarion. This is the best gift I have ever received," you said sincerely, feeling your heart swell with love for him. And this time, you knew he could feel it too, through the pendant.
He gave you a soft smile and kissed your forehead. "Anything for my dear Merryment companion."
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rebelfell · 5 months
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Surrender II
Eddie Munson x fem!Reader x lesbian!Chrissy Cunningham
You find out the full story of Eddie and Chrissy's past, and surprise yourself a little with just how interested you are.
Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
cw: established relationship, platonic!hc (eddie and chrissy are college besties), questioning/bi reader, phone sex (w/Chrissy), oral sex (fem receiving). 6.5k 18+, MDNI
Does excessive backstory need a warning? Cos that's what you're getting, bby. Also, this post by @pollenallergie is more or less how Chrissy came out to Eddie in my head 🥲
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A little smirk breaks through Chrissy’s stoic facade and you feel yourself starting to laugh, half from shock and half from relief.
“Wait, so you…you’re…”
“Yep,” Chrissy nods. “Gay as the day is long.”
She smiles proudly at the admission, seeming pleased she can state it so plainly without any hemming or hesitation. You on the other hand, are long lost in your tangled thoughts, feeling almost as though you have whiplash trying to think of something to say.
Eddie clears his throat and you look up at him instinctively, finding an expression you’ve never seen before. It’s like he’s…worried. Did he need to be? The sharing girls thing was quite a revelation, but given everything you knew about his past, it kind of made sense.
“S-sorry,” you say, realizing how long you’ve been silent. “I’m just…trying to play catch up.”
“Well, Eddie should have told you,” Chrissy says, a little pointedly. “Sounds like someone is still a tad overprotective.” Her glance darts across the table at your boyfriend, who mumbles under his breath something like, jus’ trying to look out for you. 
His typically boisterous face has grown sullen as he stares at his beer and swirls the last swallow of it that sits in the bottom of the tall glass. Chewing nervously on the corner of your lip, you turned back towards Chrissy.
“Do you think you could, uh…would you mind walking me through it?”
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “How, um…how did it start? Like, how did you guys…when did you…”
The question snags in your throat, face getting hot as you search for exactly what you’re trying to ask only to come up empty. Chrissy’s head tips to the side and she smiles at you reassuringly.
“Should I go back to the beginning?”
She glances between you and Eddie, gauging your reactions, and you look back at him as you reach over to take his hand in yours.
“Is that okay with you?” you ask quietly.
He nods as your fingers lace together. “Yeah,” he says. “I want you to know.”
He holds your gaze for a moment and you squeeze his fingers quickly three times in a row. Your secret communication. An invisible note you pass back and forth whenever you think the other needs the reminder. I. Love. You. It finally brings a small smile back to his face. He lifts his gaze to meet Chrissy’s and gives her an affirming nod.
“Okay, then. Here we go!” 
She titters excitedly and spreads her fingers wide as she prepares dramatically to lay her scene. You shoot Eddie a glance, noting his storytelling influence as she begins. 
“So: high-school. Super fun if you fit in, but of course set one toe out of line and you’re all but burned at the stake. And I was this total goody two-shoes. Genuinely, the wildest thing I ever did was buy a tiny baggie of weed from this one.” She jerks her thumb at Eddie. “And my boyfriend was this super uptight Christian—like, I’m pretty sure he thought if he fingered me, he’d have to chop off his own hand. Which was fine, because he wasn’t what I wanted at all as it turns out.”
That must be the glass of spoiled milk. You nod thoughtfully as Chrissy goes on.
“We broke up right before graduation because I refused to follow him to his first choice school and instead I went away to be a counselor at summer camp…where I met Evelyn.”
She smiles wistfully again with that harlequin romance face of hers.
“We were truly, madly, deeply in love for all of about six weeks. And then our summer bubble popped and it all came to a crashing halt. She went back to Minnesota, and I went home to try and figure out what I was gonna do with my life. And, as it turned out, Eddie was too.”
You knew this part—how Eddie had just barely scraped by on his third attempt at a senior year; how he was more shocked than anyone when the college he applied to on a whim actually admitted him. It was cheaper than every other school in the area, and they had a reputation of accepting just about everyone. But Eddie had been convinced “everyone” wouldn’t include him.
“So, we both wound up at the same school and I was feeling really lost. The whole Jason debacle caused a big rift with my parents and my friends had gone away for college. I was already lonely and I’d just discovered this massive, totally life-altering thing about myself, but I had absolutely no one I could talk to about it.”
Chrissy looks down at her drink somberly and you tried to imagine her back then—the beautiful girl from his yearbook, the literal queen of his high-school, seemingly losing everything that made her, her and it makes your heart ache a little bit.
“I was stressed out and not sleeping well, so I went looking for Eddie to see if I could buy from him again. And he wasn’t selling anymore, but he asked if I wanted to hang out instead. He invited me to sit in on a D&D campaign and introduced me to a lot of really great people.”
At this, Eddie and Chrissy smiled, remembering how poorly her fairy character had fared in that first campaign.
“He was actually the first person I came out to,” she says, eyes softening as she cast a fond gaze in Eddie’s direction. “I wasn’t sure how, but I just knew he wouldn’t judge me. Would never make me feel bad for…being who I was.”
You can’t help but look up at Eddie at Chrissy’s words. You knew all too well the depths of his kindness and his unfailing decency. You knew exactly how at ease he must have made Chrissy feel because he’d been doing the same for you as long as you’d known him.
“So, now I knew I liked girls, but still it was, like, terrifying because I had zero idea how to go about it. And not having any experience kinda made it tough to get experience y’know? Plus…it was still Indiana. Hawkins wasn’t that far away. I knew if anybody found out it would 100% get back to my parents, and I was afraid they’d drag me out of school and send me to a conversion camp or something. I really wouldn’t put it past them to do just that. And back then I…I really didn’t know how to fight back yet.”
Chrissy frowns a little, something like regret or shame ghosting across her face. It’s quickly chased away, though, gone almost as soon as it appears.
“Anyway, Eddie became like my…” She pauses, glossy lips pursed as she thought. “What’s the lesbian equivalent of a beard?”
“A merkin?” Eddie offered, earning a mutual eye roll from you and Chrissy.
“Well, whatever you call it, getting together with people with him felt way safer than going up to someone and hitting on them in a bar. Plus…Eddie has excellent taste in girls.”
Chrissy’s eyes dart sideways and flicker over you again. They linger on your face and drift down briefly to your chest before returning to your eyes. In spite of everything, it makes your cheeks tingle and your core pulse, and you have to forcibly bring yourself back to the moment.
“So, what happened with Never Have I Ever?”
“That was how it got started. I was having a party and Eddie brought this girl he was kind of seeing. We were all sitting around playing and we started talking about threesomes. And she’s like, oh, I’ve never had one, but I always wanted to try. And starts getting all touchy and affectionate with me. And, I guess, I knew she was trying to get Eddie to like her more? Like she was for sure using me, but I was kind of using her too? I don’t know, that’s for me and my therapist to unpack.”
She waves her hands, dismissing the thought before she gets too wrapped up in it.
“Anyway—we all go back to my room and she and I start making out like, ooh, yeah, we’re just kissing trying to turn Eddie on. Meanwhile I’m, like, basically forgetting Eddie is even there!”
Your brows raise as you turn to look at your boyfriend, who simply shrugs his shoulders with an it is what it is, kind of smile on his lips.
“Wow…that’s…quite the visual,” you say. 
It really was. 
You knew Eddie was no saint. He’d had quite a roster in his heyday and he’d always been up front with you about that. He wasn’t Hugh Heffner or anything, but he had that boyish ease and a roguish charm about him that girls (and a couple guys) flocked to. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him and Chrissy tearing through their college like the Williams sisters playing doubles.
“It wasn’t, like, a routine or anything,” Chrissy assures. “But it did end up happening pretty regularly. I got my sea legs, so to speak, and Eddie totally became my wing man. We’d, like, confer about what girls I was interested in and he would lay the groundwork to see if she’d be down. I mean, it was college, so of course a lot of girls were trying to experiment.”
Her dainty fingers made exaggerated air quotes.
“By junior year, I’d found some actual queer girls instead of straight girls trying to get attention. And if I’m ever looking to really date someone, I try to stick to people who are out.”
Eddie snorts as he takes a sip of his beer.
“Hey!” Chrissy squeaks indignantly. “I said try.”
She plucks a peanut from the bowl of mixed snacks sitting in the center of the table and flicked it at him. As if predicting the move, he opens his mouth to catch the nut and crunches it loudly in his teeth as he grins back at her smugly.
You half expect him to stick out his tongue.
“Anyway, all that is way behind us now,” Chrissy says. “We’re much older and wiser.”
Eddie nods in agreement as he reaches for the bowl of snack mix.
“Well…older, at least,” she adds, murmuring to you under her breath as Eddie coughs and sputters slightly on the handful of snacks he shoved so unceremoniously in his mouth.
You snicker again as you two share another conspiring look. 
“So, yeah. That’s pretty much it,” she says.
“Wow,” you sigh softly, lost in thought.
It’s surprising how quickly you start to imagine them together. Soft, reddish blonde curls falling across a smooth back; mixed up with pale, inked skin and his dark, wild shag. Eddie’s rough and guttural moans layering over the high, feminine whines you imagined falling from Chrissy’s lips. And maybe even more surprising…the only one you actually felt some jealousy of was whatever girl that got to be between them.
“Yeah, we had quite a time. And we could get kind of competitive…which added a fun layer.”
Chrissy’s voice drops as she lifts her cocktail to take a sip, her eyes meeting yours over the rim, and a little of her drink dribbles on her bowed lips. Her tongue flicks out between them to collect it and you feel a sudden warmth on your leg. Her hand finds your knee under the table and she gently starts to gently glide it up your thigh.
You look down, hypnotized by the sight of her fingers drawing figure eights that slipped briefly beneath the hemline of your dress, leaving your skin buzzing wherever she touched it. Almost on instinct, you look over at Eddie, who was already smirking as he followed the movements of Chrissy’s hand on your leg with his eyes. 
His gaze lifts to meet hers and her lips twitch with a smirk of her own, clearly offering a challenge. There’s more buzzing as Eddie reaches for your other thigh, gripping it tight in his wide palm as he hauls himself closer to you in the booth. Chrissy responds in kind, nudging up next to you until your nose is filled again with the crisp, light scent of her perfume. It mixes with Eddie’s headier musk to create something totally unique, much like their distinct touches and the varied pressures of their hands on your thighs and differing weights of those hands.
Heavy and light. Rough and soft. Leather and lace.
Chrissy’s sea glass eyes flicker with intention as you meet her gaze. Her fingers wander higher still, disappearing beneath your skirt and flirting with the crease of your thigh. And you’re certain she must be able to feel the heat radiating at the apex of your legs. Eddie’s hand moves up in kind and he leans in close to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear he knows so well.
It’s just a game, you think. They must be doing a bit.
The heat of their combined gazes causes an excited fluttering in your chest and a warm rush of blood to your face, among other places. Your pulse throbs, head spinning until Chrissy pulls her hand back and you finally exhale a shaky breath. Eddie chuckles darkly and he presses his lips to your burning cheek, his eyes flickering one last time to Chrissy’s as he does.
You can practically hear his childish taunt of Ha-ha, I win.
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At the end of the night, you and Eddie wait outside with Chrissy until her Uber arrives. She was house-sitting for Robin and Nancy while they were in Barbados for a babymoon before Nancy was due to pop in the next four or five months. When her car arrives, you all start to say your goodbyes and both of you open your arms and envelop one another while Eddie looks on.
Chrissy hops in the backseat, reminding you again to let her know if you want to get together again before she heads back to Chicago in a few weeks. You smile and assure her you will, holding up your phone that now has her number saved in your contacts.
On the ride back home, Eddie seems more fidgety than normal. He’s mostly quiet, not even humming along with the radio when you switch it to his preferred station. And when you get home, he’s extra doting from the moment he pulls into the driveway, rushing to tell you to hold on as you reach for the handle so he can come around to your side and open it for you.
Inside, he stops you at the door so he can kneel and help pull off your shoes.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, running your hands through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. He sets your boots to the side and stands, wrapping you up in him.
You breathe his scent deeply and start to step away, but he’s not done with you yet.
“Hey,” Eddie starts, gently tugging you back into his arms. He tilts his head down and touches his forehead to yours. “You’re okay, right? With everything you heard?”
“Yeah,” you say, nodding slowly. “I do wish you had told me. I was really getting up in my head about you two.”
“I should have,” he murmured. “And I wanted to, really, but…I guess I was a little afraid of what you might think. Like Chrissy said, I know it sounds kind of scandalous.”
You licked your lips, deep in thought. It was a little weird to think about, sure. You’d never asked for a lot of details about his past relationships, afraid of the specter of jealousy that loomed. You’d figured in most cases, the less you knew, the better. But it was difficult (impossible, actually) for you not to wonder about this.
“So, you’ve had like…a lot of threesomes, then?”
“Technically?” Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, I never considered it that because I never got with Chrissy. I think she liked watching me fuck girls, but we were like ships passing in the night. The most we would do was like a stage kiss.”
Eddie demonstrates by pulling you into him like he’s going in for the kill, but angling his head in such a way it only seems like you’re touching. Unless someone was laying down beneath you, it would look like you were kissing from almost any direction. He wiggles his head around wildly and makes a series of slurping and smacking noises that cause you to erupt in giggles.
“And none of the girls ever noticed?” you ask, breathless from laughing.
“I think they were a little distracted,” he tells you, his voice getting all low and rumbly. “Kinda hard to keep track of what’s going on with two people trying to make you come.”
The words ignite the fire in your cheeks as does the way he keeps his hold on you, hugging you flush against his body. His excitement is evident pressed up against your hip and you wonder if he can tell you’ve been soaking since he and Chrissy touched your thighs under the table.
“That tracks,” you breathe heavily, shivering as he runs his fingertips up and down your arms. “I can see how the two of you together would be difficult to resist…”
“I definitely didn’t have to push,” Eddie chuckles. “The girls were super down all on their own.”
“No, I get it. Chrissy’s…really pretty,” you say softly. Eddie notes the shift in your tone when you say it this time, no longer threatened. Purely appreciative. Genuine.
“You know, she thought the same thing about you,” he says with an impish smile.
“What do you mean?”
To answer, Eddie takes out his phone and holds it out for you to take. The screen is open to his text thread with Chrissy and you scroll through the messages they’ve been sending leading up to your meeting. It’s all fairly innocuous, not dissimilar to the texts you’d exchanged with him about what nights you were free and where you should go while Chrissy was here.
One of the messages, though, is a picture of you he sent to Chrissy captioned with a heart eyes emoji. The shot is one you’ve never even seen before, from a day not long ago when you and Eddie went for ice cream. You’re sitting across a table from him, looking totally relaxed and comfortable—the polar opposite of how you normally feel in front of a camera.
In your hand is a vanilla cone, a little dab of it on the tip of your nose. Your sunglasses rest on top of your head and your face is luminous as you look off to the side at something—a little dog wearing a bowtie, if memory serves. It might be the most flattering photo you’ve ever seen of yourself, and even more flattering are Chrissy’s proceeding reactions.
Chrissy: wowowowow 😛 she’s stunning! jeez, I might need a minute…
Eddie: hands where I can see ‘em, cunningham.
Chrissy: I kid, I kid! I wouldn’t dare steal your girl
Chrissy: at least not the *first* time we meet.
Excitement warms your chest and the feeling of it radiates down to your center like when Chrissy’s eyes flickered over you at the bar. Eddie’s eyes glint with excitement of his own as he slips his hands down to palm your ass, lifting the skirt of your dress so it skims the tops of your thighs.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more explicitly,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if Chrissy wanted it to be broadcasted. This is still Hawkins, you know?”
“It’s alright, I get it,” you say.
“And you…you’re sure you’re okay?”
Eddie’s eyes shimmer as he stares at you, revealing the briefest hint of fear. He doesn’t like lying to you, ever. And you know he wouldn’t have done it under many circumstances.
“Yeah, definitely.” You smile, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “It's just surprising, I guess.”
“Surprising how?”
“I don’t know, how…hot it is?” You squirm slightly in his arms. “The thought of you guys sharing a girl…both of you making it all about her…”
Eddie’s brow lifts with interest. He knows what a turn-on that is for you—the thought of being the center of your lover’s attention; having them lavish you with affections; prioritizing your pleasure over anything and everything else. He also knew how hard it was for you to voice such a desire because of how selfish it made you feel. And then he had to grit his teeth as he listened to you recount seemingly endless tales of past boyfriends who took advantage of your giving nature  and didn’t return even a fraction of what they received. 
For a whole month afterward, he’d enacted a strict two-for-one policy on himself just to see if he could pull it off. Obviously, he could—even pushing it to three and four if he remembered to stretch first.
Still, he was always looking for new ways to indulge your fantasies.  And it sure sounded like this was shaping up to be one of them.
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It’s a couple days later when you come home after work, practically singing to yourself as you kick off your shoes and head into the kitchen to start prepping things for dinner. Fridays normally put you in a good mood anyway, but they’re especially sweet when Eddie had a weekend off. 
You had beat him home. He typically left the garage around 3:00 to compensate for having to be back so early Saturday morning, but the shop was closed through Monday because the owner’s daughter was getting married. To make up for it, their hours had been extended today to squeeze in a few extra customers. Eddie volunteered to stay on, knowing how his boss appreciated it and how he showed that appreciation on payday. Hopper probably could have kept regular hours just by asking Eddie to run things in his stead, but he liked giving his employees a free weekend now and again, especially when he had something to celebrate.
You busy yourself chopping vegetables and browning some ground beef with onions and garlic, a row of cans containing the rest of your ingredients for chili lined up on the counter. Just as you’ve thrown everything in the crock pot and set it to cook on low, a picture of Chrissy’s sweet smiling face fills your phone screen as it buzzes on the countertop. You reach for it with shaking hands, trying to contain yourself and sound as normal as you can as you slide onto a barstool.
“Hi, honey,” she coos in a dulcet tone. “How are you?”
“I-I’m good,” you say, doing your best to pretend you aren’t trembling with excitement just at the sound of her voice. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing, really,” she sighs, sounding a little bit like a pout. “I’m so bored. Eddie said he would call when he got off work so we could all do something, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Ohh, he had to stay late at the garage. He should be home soon, though.”
“Ah, I see. What about you, angel? When did you get off?”
You draw a shuddering breath at her question, feeling certain the entendre is intentional, and hoping she can’t hear you gulp as you answer. “Umm, just…just a little while ago.”
“Mmhmm…and what are you doing now?”
You hear a soft brushing sound over the line and could swear it sounds like she’s laying down on something soft. Maybe a couch, maybe a bed.
“I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking a lot about what you guys told me at the bar.” Another gulp. “About you and him and…sharing girls?”
“Me too,” she sighs. It’s languid and gently strained as though she’s stretching as she says it, exhaling softly into the release of her muscles relaxing. “Made me kinda miss those days…part of me wonders if I’ve still got enough charm to woo a straight girl.”
“I think you’ve got enough charm to do anything you want,” you chuckle.
Chrissy’s laugh is like peals of jingle bells tinkling in your ear. “You big flirt,” she teases.
Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm of it pulsing in your ears and between your legs. Is this for real? Maybe she’s just messing around. Maybe she just likes attention. Maybe—
“Have you ever been with a girl?”
You inhale sharply and chew on your bottom lip. “No, never. My, uh…my friends and I kiss sometimes, but it’s just out of affection. Nothing serious. Nothing real.”
You wonder if she’s able to glean your own disappointment. You’ve never had feelings for a woman, per se, but there had been moments here or there where you noticed certain ones and it caused your mind to wander. There was something so enticing about them. Something so bewitching it made your head spin. Boys were attractive, sure, but women were like works of art come to life.
They seemed more like masterpieces in museums hanging behind glass barriers and velvet ropes you would never dream of touching for fear of tarnishing their beauty.
You’d always suspected there was some part of you that was interested in women and that it might have blossomed if given the opportunity. But then you met Eddie and it didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. Bi or otherwise, he was the one you wanted. 
Still, that curiosity lingered. 
“Have you ever wanted to try?”
Chrissy asks her question plainly. There’s no judgment in her voice, no sense that she’s trying to shame you for your sheltered existence or even pressure you into answering in the affirmative. It feels like talking to an old friend, except your panties didn’t get this wet talking to your friends.
“I did. Or, I guess, I do. I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I love Eddie and he’s who I want to be with, but…” You can’t help trailing off because the truth is you don’t know the end of that sentence.
This was a common failing with you.
Not a failing, Eddie would scold you gently. It’s just a space for improvement. You weren’t great at expressing your desires and had a bad habit of just accepting whatever was offered, and making your own wants an afterthought. And Eddie was everything you ever wanted, so how could you possibly be so selfish as to ask for more?
“No, I get it,” Chrissy says. “He really loves you and you two are so sweet together. But…” Your heart leaps into your throat. “I’m sure he would like the idea of you finding something new that brings you pleasure.”
You pressed your lips together, deep in thought. She definitely had a point there.
Eddie was great about exploring new things and doing whatever he could to help you figure out what you might like in bed. So far, you’d had fairly limited experiences, partly due to being shy and also just a lack of opportunity. Again, see ex-boyfriends who were perfectly content having you pleasure them, but rarely made the leap to think outside the box (pun intended).
He’d read up on soft dominance when you mentioned once in passing you liked the idea of someone being in control over you, but figured you couldn’t be a submissive because you didn’t think you’d enjoy impact play or being punished or humiliated. And another time when you saw a short video on proper hair pulling technique and asked if you could try it out on him, he started doing it back to you and excitedly realized it was very much more your thing.
“I mean…we could try something?” Chrissy says. “With Eddie there?”
“I think I’d be too scared,” you say, wincing at your own diminutive voice.
“Oh, honey,” she mewls sweetly. “Why’s that?”
“B-because I…I wouldn’t know what I was doing and I…” You pinch your eyes shut and dredge up every speck of confidence you have to finish the thought. “I would wanna make you come.”
There’s a soft gasp over the line, so faint you thought you must have imagined it at first. And when Chrissy takes a few seconds to respond, you swear your heart stops until her smooth, sultry voice returns.
“You would, huh?”
“Yeah, of course,” you say. “I’d, um…I’d want to know you were enjoying yourself.”
“Trust me, I would definitely be enjoying myself,” she says with another lilting sigh.
There’s some more rustling on the line. Was she taking off her shirt? What did her bra look like? Is she even wearing a bra or are her breasts exposed now, pretty pert nipples hardening as she skates her free hand over them and down her abdomen and belly?
“Why don’t you tell me how you’d do it? What would you do to me if I was there?”
Okay, that is definitely the sound of her unzipping her jeans. Your heart races at the thought of one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen touching herself to the idea of what you would do to her and you think you might combust on the spot.
“I’d…I’d wanna touch you all over…feel how soft you are…I’d wanna grab you by that ponytail and yank your head back so I could kiss your neck…”
“Oo-ooh! That’s right, baby. Show me who’s in charge.”
You chuckle bashfully, trying to keep your cool hearing the slick sounds of Chrissy’s fingers playing with herself. Your mind is still scrambling for what to say next when the sound of the front door opening catches your ear and your head jerks up to see Eddie returning home from work.
“Hey, baby,” he says, smiling brightly as he comes through the door and you practically gush all over the barstool just at the sight of him.
He’s still got his hair pulled back in a low bun, little curly tendrils framing his handsome face. He hasn’t changed out of his coveralls, but has the top unzipped and tugged down with the sleeves knotted around his waist to reveal the white tee he wears underneath. The material is smudged all over, stretched tight across his chest and around his biceps that flex as he plops down his bag and leans on the counter across from you. He smells like sweat and motor oil and the sex you had this morning that made him have to skip his shower so the smell of you clung to him all day long.
It takes him all of about five seconds to deduce what is going on. His eyes flit first to your face, biting down on your lip with your expression pained from how turned on you are. And then down to your thighs that press together as you squirm in your seat, desperate for some friction.
“Who ya talkin’ to?” he asks, his casual smile descending into one of pure filth.
“Ch-Chrissy,” you gasp. “She, uh, wanted to do something tonight.”
Eddie’s eyes are positively wolfish and the sight sends another jolt between your legs. He nods and motions for you to hand the phone to him. He holds it to his ear and stands tall over you, getting as close as he can so you can still faintly hear Chrissy’s voice over the receiver.
“Cunningham, you dog,” he chuckles darkly. “You getting my girl all worked up?”
“She’s getting me worked up,” Chrissy retorts with a tinkling laugh.
“Oh, I know she is,” Eddie says, tongue flicking over his lips to wet them. “I bet you’re touching yourself while you talk to her too. Aren’t you, you bad girl?”
Even as Eddie speaks to Chrissy, his eyes lock onto yours and you can tell this show he’s putting on, the words he’s saying in that deep growl he knows you love, is all for your benefit. He places his hand on your knee and gently guides your legs apart to stroke your inner thighs. His fingers roam freely, but decidedly swerve away from where you need him most and you have to grip the seat beneath you to stop yourself from dragging his hand straight into your heat.
“Ma-a-ybe,” Chrissy’s voice lilts, half-moaning her answer.  “Is she touching herself?
“No, not yet,” Eddie says, his fingers still inching their way up your thighs. “My sweet girl knows how to behave. Don’t you, baby?”
You whimper as you nod, even though part of you knows if Eddie had taken much longer to come home he might have found you in a much more compromising position. His fingers finally reach where you need him most and he sighs at the warmth and wetness he finds.
“Ohhhh…” he moans, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he swipes your panties to the side and nimbly begins to stroke and tease your entrance. “She’s dripping though.”
“You’re welcome,” Chrissy titters faintly. 
Your back arches in response to his words and his touch, thrusting yourself towards him, wordlessly begging for more. His fingertips sink inside, but remain decidedly in the shallows as he watches them, enraptured by his own movements as well as the way your slick coats them.
“Talk to Chrissy for me, baby,” he grunts. “I need to taste you right fucking now.”
Eddie grins as he passes the phone back to you and drops to his knees, spreading your legs apart so he can bury his face between them. It’s not often he jumps straight to the point like this. Sometimes he gets so wrapped up in the teasing and toying, you think he enjoys the lead up as much as the main event, if not a little more. But right now, his fervor can’t be delayed for one second as he flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe directly through your center. 
You throw your head back and moan with abandon as his lips surround your clit and he sucks on the over-sensitized nerves. Your arm trembles from the effort of clutching your seat, one hand holding onto it for dear life as you press the phone against your cheek with the other.
Chrissy moans in response to your own that rang through over the line. You picture her laying on a plush bed piled high with blankets and pillows, her lithe body all twisted up in pleasure as she touches herself. For some reason, you imagine her under a gauzy canopy strung with fairy lights that cast her in their soft, radiant glow. The hot girls always had canopies over their beds when you were growing up. You wished you could smell her perfume and feel her lips on yours.
You bet she tastes like a piece of watermelon candy.
“I missed you, darling,” she says, breath stilted as her moan trails off. “Tell me how you feel. Is he touching you? Filling you up nice?”
“Y-yes, his…his tong—fuck…his tongue is…”
Words are already impossible when Eddie is going down on you so enthusiastically, and it’s made all the more difficult with Chrissy’s breathy voice in your ear, coaxing you towards your release.
“I wish I was there too, pretty girl. I wish I could lick you up like he is.”
Eddie jumps to his feet and you gasp at the movement and the loss of his mouth on you. Thankfully, you have just enough wherewithal to hold the phone away so you don’t squeal in Chrissy’s ear when he lifts you up and heads for the bedroom with you cradled in his arms. He doesn’t place you down so much as he throws you on the bed and you bounce slightly on the mattress before sinking into the extra thick down duvet he gave you for your last birthday.
His eyes are wild as they rake over you and he snatches the waistband of your panties to drag them fully down your legs. He flings them to the side and strips off his own shirt before frantically tugging down his coveralls, revealing his boxers that are stretched to their absolute limit.
You’ve had more than your fair share of energetic encounters with Eddie before, but there’s a fire lit within him this time pushing him to new heights. Part of you wonders if he likes having Chrissy as an audience—likes the thought of her listening to him draw every moan and whimper out of you; likes the thought of showing off his prowess, showing off you. Maybe you do too.
His mouth returns eagerly to your center and as he devours you like an animal, Chrissy hears your pleasure in pealing moans that fall from your lips.
“God, you sound so good,” she sighs. “I wanna hear more.”
Your mind is turning straight to mush from their combined efforts. You can’t even think about the noises you’re making, only the ones you hear coming through the phone or drifting up from between your legs. Eddie moans sinfully and you can feel the vibrations of it as well as the words he’s murmuring into your pussy about how hot you are. Distantly, you register a low buzzing on the other end of the line and when Chrissy speaks you can hear in her voice how close she is.
“Come for me, sweetness,” Chrissy moans. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.”
Eddie feels your reaction to her words as he fucks you with his tongue. He drags the tip back up to your clit and begins to flick it against the swollen bud. He fills you with his fingers, sliding them easily inside and curling them upwards in search of that sacred spot inside of you. 
Blinding white light fills your vision as he presses on your g-spot and your orgasm overtakes you rapidly—your entire body quivering, exploding all over. In your ear, you can hear Chrissy as she reaches her peak, her breathy moans echoing your own. Eddie remains buried between your legs as you ride out your high, still murmuring his endless praise that’s muffled by your cunt.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby, so fucking good. Jesus fucking Christ…”
Slowly, reluctantly, you return to earth.
The softness of the bed beneath you cradles your body that has gone slack with exhaustion. Eddie sits back on his calves as he surveys the results of his toil with a triumphant smile. There’s a sheen of sweat on his bare chest and his chin is glistening with your spend. He pulls the phone from your limp grasp and holds it up to his ear to talk to Chrissy as he gazes lovingly down at you. 
“You alive over there, Cummingham?”
He grins wide at his own joke, always his own best audience. You roll your eyes, but laugh too as you try to regain your breath. You’re too blissfully fucked out and he’s too far away for you to hear Chrissy’s response, but that fiery blaze returns to his eyes as he listens to whatever she is saying.
“Oh, I don’t think we’re even close to done yet,” Eddie chuckles.
You giggle softly and manage to shake your head to confirm his suspicions. He leans over you, dark curls falling forward as his bun comes loose and surrounding you in a curtain. And he speaks to her, his voice low and even, eyes burning into yours as he does.
“How about you get your ass over here and we see who can make my girl come the most?”
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Part Three
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httpiastri · 3 months
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I need an opinion on a thought that’s been brewing and as saviour of the Paul girlies i think you may be the only one for the job…
Yeah ima just spit it out : Paul Aron size kink
I could leave it there however i simply do not want to I have too many thoughts, i mean obviously First his hands like oh my god??? How FUCKING TALL he is, how fucking built, also his back omg it is so big and I am SO attracted to it like honestly i could take the best nap of my life on there!!!!!! WEARING HOS CLOTHES!!!!!! And he just feels all protective and territorial because he never realised how much smaller than him you were till he sees you wearing his clothes making them look huge!!!! Him realising that it’s making him feel some kinda way iykwim cause he’s literally so much bigger and stronger, and not only is he bigger and stronger but also you trust him so fully anyway (please dont feel any pressure to respond if you dont wanna, and verry sorry about my English lol)
bestie you’re doing god’s work 🙏 thank you SO much for this oh my god. my brain stopped working for quite some time because i loved this too much. i love you, whoever you are <3<3
(headcanons are under the cut because yes, i went a little overboard. but as i said, i loved this too much......guys pls keep the paul asks incoming, they're literally making my days)
(oh and 18+ below. 😁)
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– when he starts to realize how big his hands look on you, he won't be able to keep them away from you. he's always got a hand on your body.
– he's driving? a hand on your thigh. you're in public? a hand wrapped around your waist. out with friends? your hand is intertwined with his, no questions asked.
– when holding your hands, he's so surprised every time. he forgets that your hands are that small and the way that his fingers fill the gaps between yours makes him feel so special.
– he loves the way it looks when his hands wrap around the inside of your thighs, and how easy it is for him to pry your legs apart. his palms cover up most of your skin, fingers fitting right along your curves and folds.
– he loves holding both of your wrists in just one of his hands above your head as the other palms your bare ribs. he loves wrapping a hand around your neck, his thumb brushing up and down the front of your throat, feeling your pulse and breaths under his finger. he loves the way he can grab so much of your hair in just one hand.
– he loves using his hands and fingers to rile you up, to pleasure you, to make you feel so so good.
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– the first time he saw you wearing his clothes, he almost combusted. his eyes widened so big you thought they would pop out of their sockets…
– it made him realize just how much bigger he is. like, he knew he was tall, but is the difference really THIS big? when he sees you wearing that hoodie of his that's been getting kind of tight recently when he's been putting in some extra work in he gym, and it's so long on you it meets the middle of your thighs, he's swept off his feet. he almost doesn't believe it.
– of course, after that, he thinks he's going to be a little sneaky about it and 'forget' clothes at your place every once in a while. the first time it happens, you text him like "hey, your sweater is here, do you want me to bring it over?" but he tells you it's no stress and that you can keep it for a while… and it makes you suspicious at first, until you realize what he's doing.
– and of course, you can't help but give in to the temptation. you do want to wear his clothes, too, after all. so the next time he comes over, you're wearing said sweatshirt, and his jaw practically drops to the floor when you open the door for him and you're looking up at him with those sweet, innocent eyes.
– so after that, it becomes a habit. he's got a bunch of clothes at your place, and you love wearing them. and when he wears a shirt he's seen you wear, he always feels a bit special. "she looked so tiny in this… but it fits me so well…"
– he gets so protective in some way, because he suddenly sees you as someone so small and in need of protection. he never wants anything or anyone to bother his sweet little baby ever again.
– and it's not just shirts, but also sweatpants and most other clothes too. whenever you're out and you 'forget' to bring a jacket of your own, he always offers you his. and you always practically drown in the material, making his heart flutter so hard.
– i also think he would freak out if you wore his boxers… (in a good way)
– he would get so so riled up if you wore his clothes but nothing underneath. like a long hoodie but with no pants, or a white t-shirt without a bra…
– he would not survive for long.
– oh and he loves to fuck you in his clothes. but that's a story for another time. :)
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– istg his chest muscles are thicker than the pillows i sleep on…
– anyway
– naps on him would be so good. idk about you all but i love sleeping on hard mattresses 🤭
– he would love having you lie on him. your cheek pressed to his big chest, skin on skin, your soft breath on his neck making him feel so warm inside. feeling his chest rising and lowering as he breathes, your fingers absentmindedly drawing little figures into his skin.
– or why not lie on his back? his shoulders are so broad and he's so tall that most of your body would fit on his back. very cozy.
– and oh my god, giving him back massages. jesus christ, he would go crazy.
– your little hands, your pretty little fingers brushing against his skin. pressing into his muscles, massaging away any knots. feeling the bumps of his spine, the folds of his shoulder blades, every definition of a muscle. he doesn't understand how your small hands can bring him so much pleasure, but he's putty in your hands immediately.
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– just standing next to him is so shocking. like, race car drivers are supposed to be short, what are you doing? who allowed this?
– he towers over you and he always finds it so cute. he loves how you have to get into your tippy toes and pull his face down to be able to kiss him, and the way he can pretend to ignore you and stay out of reach just to annoy you. he loves teasing you (in a lot of ways-) and it's just too easy for him to get a rise out of you when using your size difference.
– and even something as simple as asking him to get that ingredient from the top shelf because you can't reach makes him so smug and cocky. you needing his help and him providing it will never fail to make his day.
– he loves to rest his chin on top of your head. when you're out with friends, when he comes up behind you as you're cooking dinner, any time and any place. especially when also wrapping his big, muscular arms around you from behind, especially when they're around your neck like in the last pic.
– oh, to have you trapped underneath him. he loves hovering over you and caging you between his arms. he loves watching you squirm as he's holding your wrists above your head with one hand, the other running up and down your ribs to pull out shivers and shudders by his touch.
– and the way his hand practically covers up your entire side, the way your frame is so small compared to his… it makes him so impressed because despite how little you are in comparison, you still trust him so deeply?
– he could literally break your neck or femur or whatever bone with his bare hands but here you are, batting your eyes up at him like he's the only man in the world, so sure that he would never do anything to hurt you. and it makes him freak out a bit, but he's also so proud.
– and despite the size difference, you still take him so well? it makes him unbelievably hot.
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silverameco · 15 days
Text
Bookshop AU - @wolfstarmicrofic - 763 words
Sirius loved Tuesdays, because he didn't work the afternoon, and could go annoy his brother. Regulus had been working at Lily's bookshop for a few years now. It was striking how well he fitted in the place. When Lily openned her shop, Sirius never thought he would ever see his brother in it. And now, he couldn't imagine it without him.
Sirius was leaning against the counter, bickering with Regulus who kept rolling his eyes, pretending to be bother by it. Sirius knew he was enjoying his presence every Tuesday. They never thought they could have this, after all.
Regulus left him alone to fetch something at the back of the store. Suddendly, the bell of the door tinkled and Sirius turned his head to face the stranger. It might be the best thing he ever did, because the man standing before him was the most beautiful sight. He had sun bleached curls, tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose, and a scar crossing his face. Most of all, he had amber eyes glinting in the sun that filtered through the glass door. Sirius felt like he himself was glowing under his gaze.
"Hi, I'm looking for-", the stranger began.
"A book ?" Sirius interrupted with a cheeky grin. "I think you might be in the right place. A bookstore, that is."
The man sent him an amused smile. "Er, actually-"
"Sirius stop being rude to my customers, and my friends." Regulus said with an annoyed tone and his usual frown, coming back from the backstore. "Hi, Remus, ignore my stupid brother." he added to the stranger's attention.
Sirius couldn't process the information that this beautiful man was friend with his brother of all people. His mind was just a litany of Remus, Remus, Remus.
"Err- hey ! I'm not being rude." he said after a beat. "In fact, Remus, maybe I could help you find this book we were talking about-"
"No, you can't, you don't work here, Sirius." cutted his annoying shit of a little brother. "Come on, Remus, I'll show you the books we were discussing the other day."
He took Remus' arm, dragging him away, between the book shelves. Remus followed, but Sirius noticed his gaze lingering on him, a glint of something in his eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his lips.
So he waited patiently - maybe not so much - for them to come back at the front of the shop. When they did, Remus was holding three books. Sirius looked at the books while he payed for them. He could feel Remus very close to him, because Sirius was still against the counter. He didn't intend to move one bit.
Two of the books he didn't know, but the third one was Les Fleurs du Mal, by Charles Baudelaire. Poetry, then. With a flash of inspiration, he snatched the book from his brother's hand, ignoring his exasperated sigh.
"This one," he said, "is a very good choice."
Remus raised an interested eyebrow at him. "You like Baudelaire ?"
"Nah, I'm more of a Rimbaud kind of guy." answered Sirius with a knowing smile. "But this one is a very special edition."
"Oh, is it ?" Remus asked with an amused smile, seemingly waiting to see where he was going with this.
Sirius took a pen laying on the counter, openned the front page and began writing. He took his time, letting Remus pay meanwhile.
"Yes." he said finally, handing the book back to Remus. "It has my number on it. Call me, if you want."
Sirius said it with what he hoped looked like a confident smile, but really he was shaking a bit.
"You don't have to. He's annoying." Regulus said.
But Remus kept looking at him and smiled. "Yeah, but I think I will." he answered finally. Sirius felt his heart roared.
"You're both hopeless." commented Regulus.
"Bye Sirius." Remus said with a wink and then he was gone already.
Sirius looked at his brother with a huge grin, to which he answered with a glare.
"Do you really have to flirt with my friends ?"
Sirius gasped in offense. "You're literally dating my best friend and his girlfriend who is also my friend !"
This particular Tuesday would become one of Sirius' favorite days ever.
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solarrclxud · 2 months
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HAPPY VALENTINES
pairing : multi x reader (wriothesley , neuvillette , childe , ,xiao )
genre: fluff
warnings : not proofread , the use of " my love"
a/n: well guess who just got revived from the dead ! (its me hello) ALSO ill be getting to my inbox soon! thank you for the requests while i was gone !
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Wriothesley watched you dust a shelf that held his extravagant and excessive tea collection . You were muttering something about how he really needed to clean more often when he shifted his head off of his palm to grin . You squinted at him . " You're being suspicious" you prodded him. He shook his head and looked down to the work he was supposed to be doing as you resumed dusting , moving to the shelf below , only to see a tiny box behind the usual boxes of tea. With a slight frown you attempted to move it to the front . As you put it down , something rattled within and u heard wriothesley get up from his chair . " Finally, i thought you'd never find it" he laughed. You stared at him confused . He smiled and made his way over to you , opening the box in your hands to reveal a keychain . One you'd seen in the market a few days ago but hadn't bought.
" Happy valentines my love "
Xiao was deliberate with his gifts. They were frequent and personal. Thanks to him, you had an entire box tucked away in your cupboard , full to the brim with charms to ward off evil, flowers he had picked up and chunks of ore he had carved while u slept. Today when you awoke to a piece of jade used as a paperweight for a small note on your side table, it was not a new occurrence. The note was written in beautiful flourish and u smiled as you read it. A simple good morning and a wish for a good day. You didn't think much of it through the day as you went about the Harbor , couples exchanging simple affection was a usual for you to see at the cafe u ran but today it seemed more frequent. In the evening you walked back to the Inn , to find Xiao pacing on the balcony, slightly red faced. When you called to him , he jumped like a startled animal before he smiled a little, holding out what seemed to be a hair piece fashioned from the same kind of jade he had given to u in the morning.
"i have heard that mortals have this celebration of love. i thought it fit hat we must take part as we are...in love."
Childe was out on a business trip. His absence felt strangely heavy that day due to the presence of couples around liyue harbour. You had longed to see him for a week now but all you had was a letter from a few days after he had left , dating his return to the next month. It was one of his longer trips no doubt . As you got home that evening, you unlocked your home and was met with the sound of someone already there. You frowned , grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you etched towards the sound of...singing? Now that you thought about it the voice was familiar. You entered your bedroom to childe leaning over a bouquet of flowers strategically placed on the bed humming a tune in obvious excitement. You began to laugh, causing him to turn around to see you and inevitably join in.
"the job finished faster than planned, thanks to my expertise so i thought id suprise you ! happy valentines!"
Neuvillette was a doting lover, and contrary to his professional persona, at home he was nothing but a tired man. That morning you woke up to him for the first time in what felt like ages. You checked the clock, 10am, he was late. You uttered his name softly in an attempt to wake him up. He just hummed and nuzzled further into you, it was obvious he was awake by the soft smile on him face. " Neuvi you're late" . He shook his head and pulled you closer. His voice muffled as he said,
"I took a day off...i have a reservation at a restaurant but can we go back to bed for now my love?"
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slaying with the comeback (school is murdering me)
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