#their story which around them their words their lines

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

#boozewars #business #fandom #shitshow

[chrissfawn]

ꨄ MAKE IT UP . 𓂃 ㅤ۫ ㅤ⊹

— c.s. series | part 1 . .

pairing :: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary :: in which isabella decantis has to share a dorm room with her high school enemy, chris sturniolo.

word count :: 1,390 k

warnings :: swearing, angst (??), lowercase intentioned, 3rd person, chris is a dick, drinking, throwing up, fluff if u squint, n thats it

a/n :: yall r crazy for getting tense to 800 notes 😭😭 i love u guys all dearly. also the story line is js smth i ended up doing on c.ai and i thought it was realy good so 😁 also credits to maxine for the name she said she wouldnt read this if i didnt give her credits

COLD was what amber-eyed isabella decantis felt while walking down the long hallway. after waiting for weeks and even months, she had finally gotten accepted into her dream college. the brunette girl looked down at the small folded paper to know which dorm was hers. to her surprise, the hallway was empty on move in day. she knew how hard had been working and how much money she paid to get one of the dorms that have a private bathroom. she knew she deserved this.

‘ROOM 617’ was said on the small sign on the door. isabella put her boxes down after struggling to carry them for almost 10 minutes. she excitedly took out the key to unlock the door, but it was already open. bella raised her eyebrow slightly, a bit shocked that her dorm mate would already be here. she opened the door slowly while letting out a soft, “hello?”

her amber eyes met with blue eyes. “uhm.. what the fuck are you doing here?” chris mumbled, getting up from his bed. isabella’s jaw clenched as she looked back down at the folded paper. “this is room 617?” she spoke with anxiety laced into her tone. “are ya’ blind?” the brunette boy spoke coldly. “no because if i was, i wouldn’t already know that im gonna have to be with you.” she spat as she kicked her boxes filled with clothes and other things into the room.

bella picked up the few boxes and placed them on top of her bed. the room now completely silent, she took a box knife that she had in her purse and started to open the boxes up. “cant fucking believe im gonna have to be stuck with you for the entire year.” chris mumbled under his breath, thinking that isabella couldn’t hear him when in reality she did. “well we both wouldn’t be pissed off if you didn’t bully me through all of high school, wouldn’t we sturniolo?” isabella snapped.

“well thats what you deserve for being all slutty n shit when you fucked every guy in school decantis.” he argued back, not even looking up from his phone. bella paused from packing to turn to chris. her hands rested on her love handles. “excuse you! your the one who played every girl in bell borne! remember lizzy? yeah, you fucked around with her for a bit and then you cheated on her with her sister.” she retorted with frustration laced into her words. “but ohhh, no remember that one time when you cheated on her sister with her bestfriend?” bella continued, pissed off that chris was probably not even listening.

“oh please bella! you sent nudes to basically all of the guys during junior and senior year. dont act all innocent and act like you didn’t do anything.” chris finally snapped as he put his phone down. “jesus christ and you fucked how many guys in the bathroom?” he didn’t stop there. “don’t be coming after me sayin shit like im a player when you were a slut too.” he finally stopped. isabella rolled her eyes, turning her back to chris. “oh so now what? when i finally say the truth you stay quiet? is that what hurts you to know bella?” he taunted.

“that’s because its all a shitty humor chris! i didn’t fuck anybody in any bathroom, i didn’t send nu— well i sent nudes to my boyfriend.. i didnt send nudes to any other guy but him!” she defended herself while throwing her hands up with mercy. “for fucks sake chris you’re just like your ex girlfriend. she was such a fucking dick. you know you were nicer in eighth grade but when you started to date her during the summer you became a prick. guessing you also played her then?” bella added, tilting her head to the side slightly while crossing her arms. after a few seconds of awkwardness, isabella knew chris was finally silenced, atleast for now.

bella turned back to her things and continued to unpack everything. she carefully placed things on top of the shelfs next to her bed. her dainty crystals, her box of tarot cards, her little jewelry box, everything that she had loved. but it wasn’t too soon until the silence started to kill her. she then remembered that he had brought her vinyl player along with two or three records. the brunette girl carefully opened the book that held them, then taking them out. happily, isabella plugged in the vinyl player and putting on a mac demarco record on to play. chris groaned quietly as the music started to fill the room. “jesus what is this shit?” he asked while getting up from his bed to turn off the music.

“its music…” bella mumbled, quickly turning it back on. “well yeah it sounds depressing, who listens to that kinda stuff.” chris argued as he turned it back off. the girl pouted slightly. “people who listen to mac demarco?? if its bothering you so much then get out while i finish unpacking.” she shrugged. chris didn’t give her an audible reply, instead just simply putting his shoes on and leaving the room. isabella let out a small sigh of relief, thankful she had the room to herself now for a while.

. . . .

isabella was now in her nicely made bed comfortably. her wired earbuds connected to her phone which played music softly into her pierced ears. she hummed to herself quietly once she noticed the time. 1:03am. the brunette girl couldn’t actually help but feel a little bit worried about where he was. but of course, she quickly brushed it off and enjoyed how cozy she was currently. soon enough, a loud thud hit the door. isabella’s eyebrow raised slightly while lazily getting out of bed.

the brunette walked over to the door, taking out one earbud while opening it. her eyes met chris’ eyes. his hair stook out everywhere and some of it stuck to his forehead, his hand holding a bottle of something, his eyelids droopy, and his scent reeking of alcohol and his cheap cologne. “jesus what did you do?” bella asked while moving to the side to let chris in. “mmmhh” he rather giggled. he belly-flopped onto his bed and wiggled around on it for a while, bella assuming he was trying to get comfortable. “are you.. drunk?” she asked, crossing her arms. “don’t be ridicu-lush.. ‘m not that drunk.” he slurred while continuing to giggle like a baby.

isabella hesitated, but she grabbed the bottle that was in his grasp. “jesus! vodka chris?” she groaned in annoyance. he let out a small hiccup in reply that kinda made her laugh. isabella just watched him wriggle around in his bed before his body shot up. “what now?” she mumbled. “im gonna throw up.” chris groaned as he quickly ran to the bathroom that was connected to the dorm. the brunette girl ran after the boy as he kneeled down in-front of the toilet to throw up. isabella who had emetophobia, was also not doing well. her fingers lightly held chris’ front pieces of hair back with one hand patting his back gently, trying not to look at the throw up.

“there ya go..” she whispered quietly. after he was done doing his thing, isabella grabbed a plastic cup and filled it up with tap water. “here, drink some water.” the brunette said, then flushing the toilet. chris gladly took the cup of water and took little sips. “feel better?” she asked as she leaned against the sink counter, looking down at chris on the floor. “hm, i think ‘m still drunk.” he admitted, putting the cup down. isabella hummed quietly, nodding her head as she stuck out a hand to help chris up. “get some sleep.” she suggested while walking chris back into the room. “m’kay..” he babbled while quickly flopping back on his bed.

the amber-eyed girl turned off the bathroom lights then walked over to her bed. she had also decided to go to sleep. isabella turned off her lamp and put her phone to charge. her body slid underneath her sheets and blankets. she heard chris snore like a truck, “great.” she thought. honestly though, she didn’t mind it that much. after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, she quickly fell asleep.

a/n ;; STARTING MY FIRST SERIES 🙀🙀🙀 this might be a bit messy for the first part but i do hope u guys enjoyed it!!

taglist :: @espressomads @mattsluttywaist @sturniol0s @luverboychris

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem!oc #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #light angst #fluff if you squint #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chrissfawn #matt sturniolo x you

[pr-incey]

For a while—after being exposed to the antiship movement, because goodness knows I didn't care about this when I was younger—I wondered *why* fiction and reality were so different in my head. Why I could happily see things depicted in fiction that would make me sick to my stomach or upset me to tears just from thinking of it happening in real life. I couldn't come up with a reason for this for a while, which caused me distressed and made me worried that I might secretly be a terrible person after all.

But I've done some thinking and I've figured it out. Or, rather, I've returned to the mindset that came so easy to me in the past and probably did to a lot of people before the well was poisoned.

When I see a fictional character, I don't see a person. I don't see a person like *me*, anyway. I see a person within that piece of fiction's universe; a plane of existence that is wholly different from my own. Lines and colour, words on a page, virtual drawings being played sequentially at a speed that simulates movement. Sure, the written passage, 'He had eyes, ears and a mouth' is a representation of what *I* am, and what other people around me are, but it is fundamentally a plane of existence that is *alien* to me.

An alien is something that is decidedly not human. I feel empathy for other humans because I can relate to them. I have no desire to hurt them because I either know what it is like to be hurt in that way, or I can imagine what it would be like. I know the harm it would do to them, which illicits a reaction of disgust and apprehension in me. 'That's terrible,' I think, which simply kills any desire to cause any harm to a real person or do any disgusting actions.

This is why predators are such terrible people. They are fully aware of the harm their actions will cause and then go ahead with them anyway.

But with a fictional character, it's different in these ways:

1. First of all, we have to remember that they AREN'T human and so whatever I feel towards them cannot accurately mirror whatever I feel towards real flesh and blood individuals. They're projections of humanity from OTHER people in whatever medium they choose, but fictional characters are—and I cannot stress this enough—NOT HUMAN. If I pull off the head of a Barbie doll, does that mean I have the desire to behead someone in real life? Does it mean that I MUST have the urge to behead someone in real life, because a barbie doll is a 'representation' of a person? Your answer, I'm hoping, is no. Because Barbie is not human.

2. And because fictional characters are not human, I don't have empathy for them. Not REAL empathy, anyway, the type that stops the desire to cause harm. When I 'violate' a fictional character, it illicits at most only superficial disgust because I know that character will not live with the lasting consequences of my actions. They're a projection, a facsimile.

So that might bring you to another question, 'Even if they're not real, why would you WANT to do that to them, anyway?'

That I can't answer. The human brain is weird. Sometimes, people have dark urges. If a kid tosses their Barbie onto the ground and seems to take pleasure in it falling, can that accurately say they want to push a real person onto the ground? If someone seems to enjoy a violent video game like GTA where they can run people over and shoot them to their heart's content, is that a surefire way to know that they want to do those things to real people? I wouldn't say it is. Would you?

The final thing to remember is that it's not completely black and white. A serial killer might have been 'inspired' by a violent horror story, whereas the actual author of that story is a nice, well-adjusted individual. People with the desire to hurt actual humans might make do with projections, but it does not change the fact that they actually want to HARM people. The fiction didn't make them want to do that. They already did, and probably would have even if they didn't discover said fiction. And horrible people CAN make their own 'projections'.

Generally though I believe it is obvious when someone is just playing with dolls, and when someone is exhibiting an actual desire to hurt somebody.

#proship safe #proshippers please interact #proship #profic #just thinking

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Not pro/anti ship but a secret third thing (side eyeing ppl with ships i dont like and block them/the tag if it makes me uncomfortable)

#shut up pandora #wtf is pro and anti SHIP anyway #you cant come up with a universal definition everyone will agree on #'no problematic ships' ok can you write a manifesto on every nuance of shipping in fiction to describe what exactly is problematic #and then can you get everyone who says 'no problematic ships' to agree with it #'no censorship/harassment' is noble and all but what do you mean by that? when ppl tell you they dislike your ship? #when i say i dislike the huntlow ship 80 shippers go for the throat and tell me either to either make sure it doesnt end up in the tags #or tell me not to say it at all. in a post that isnt even blind hate like i always talk about their characters and the story too #is that censorship? #and then 20 ppl trip over themselves to explain why THEY PERSONALLY like the ship even if i didnt ask #is that harrassment? #or is that just ppl online being obnoxious about their opinions and theres no need to moralize the concept of shipping #which has been around in its semi modern form since the 60s #you can be pro or anti SPECIFIC SHIP though i dont use that term bc of the associations with the words pro and anti #but moralizing an entire aspect of fandom culture generalizes too much #the truth is theres no cheat code to avoid drama in fandom you cant just slap a lable on yourself and expect everyone to know what you mean #you cant just say im anti ship and be absolved of liking 'problematic content' bc the definition of that is blurry as hell #you can just say im pro ship and universally supoort every person shipping weird shit you gotta draw the line somewhere #and while you shouldnt harass them the definition for that is blurry too #gotta curate your own online experience block ships and ppl you dont like etc #pro and anti is just a line in the sand that separates a whole spectrum of ppl

[starsandthorn]

read through all of neuvillette's stories on the wiki and. what do you MEAN people were right about him giving furina her vision

#personal stuff #delete later #KIND OF. sort of. #man i love getting vision and celestia lore like AUGH. gnaws on it forever #but yea really interesting to me. neuvillette has the power and authority that the hydro throne had #so he can portion off bits of his power and hand them out in the form of visions like the heavens did #the WORDING is really interesting to me though. like specifically talking about the Heavens and the Seven Archons #like this implies that the Thrones in celestia are responsible for handing out visions instead of the individual gods #which we already knew from ei's voiceline about electro visions not getting handed out. what was up with that btw #CANNOT wait for snezhnaya where we find out what the hell a gnosis actually is and does and why the fatui's collecting them #if they seemingly have no influence on an archon's authority or seat in celestia and only act as a connection to the heavens #like the hydro throne is gone. it's super gone. but the hydro gnosis is still. around. and apparently performing whatever task gnoses do #for arlecchino to still. want it. #also all of the archons being so flippant about their gnoses. do they know they're made from some dead guy's corpse do you think #venti didn't fight back when his was being taken zhongli and nahida traded theirs and ei literally just didn't care #god. REALLY interesting. also the line near the end of his ''vision'' story abt vision holders is so fucking ominous #''and when one so gifted completed their duty...the gift the gods would receive in return would be more abundant still'' #HUH. EXCUSE ME. #like. allogenes as investments for elemental power? is that what we're getting at? #still wondering what the hell happened to vennessa. can we get some information on what ascending to celestia means. please

[yuujispinkhair]

Yakuza King!Sukuna lives a dangerous life. That's why he only wants you to leave his penthouse with your bodyguard. But what if you crave a treat from your favorite shop just down the street and go on your own?

Based on this lovely ask I received from @subarusuguru. Thank you so much for sharing it with me!! ♥️

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 900 Warnings: 18+, smut, spanking + pussy spanking, edging, fingering, dirty talk, use of the pet name daddy. It isn't explicitly stated in this story, but Sukuna and Reader are in an established relationship and have a safe word, etc. Everything happens with mutual consent. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Yakuza!Sukuna loves you. He loves you so much. You are his whole world, and he needs to protect you, especially when he has so many enemies because of his line of work.

Usually, Sukuna enjoys a little disobedience when it comes from you. He loves to tease you about being a brat and enjoys playfully putting you back in your place. But things are different when he is actually worried about you like he is tonight after finding out you went to a shop all alone, without one of Sukuna's drivers, and even worse, without your bodyguard.

Sukuna knows that he is to blame, too, because he didn't want to scare you and, therefore, didn't tell you how grave the threat is at the moment. But he still can't stop himself from spiraling when he hears you so foolishly went out on your own. 

"This has to stop. If I tell you not to leave the house on your own, you will be a good girl and stay inside. And if you really need to leave, you will call Nobara. Do you understand that?"

He can see you gulp hard when you hear how stern he sounds. His maroon eyes, which are usually so warm when they look at you, are cold and hard right now. Tonight, the man sitting across from you isn't just your charming and loving husband. Tonight, you are talking to the King of Tokyo's Underworld, and he will do what he has to do to ensure you stay safe.

That's why Sukuna pats his lap and points an elegant tattooed finger to his fine black suit pants.

"Come here. I will make sure you remember to do as I tell you from now on."

You squeal when he grabs you and bends you over his lap, lifting your skirt and pulling your pretty lace panties down. And you squeal even louder when Sukuna's large hand connects firmly with your juicy ass cheek.

You make a cute sound, a mix between a hiss and a moan, when Sukuna spanks you again, several times in a row, before he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening wetness gathering there, your arousal so evident. You are breathing heavily when Sukuna runs a teasing fingertip over your creamy folds before he pinches your wet little clit, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

"I am doing this for you, darling. Don't you understand that I need to protect you? The Zenins are out there, trying to take everything from me. What do you think will happen if you run into them?"

You whimper softly, and Sukuna kneads the plump flesh of your naked ass cheek before he pulls his hand away and adds in a low, stern voice, emphasizing every word,

"That's why," his palm connects firmly with your naked ass again, "you have to," another firm spank, "learn how to obey me."

Sukuna wishes he didn't have to do this. He doesn't want to bend you over his knees like this and spank you like some naughty brat.

He doesn't want to tease you for hours like this, torturing you with pleasure and pain. Rubbing your swollen clit, and occasionally pushing a finger into your tight wet cunt, pumping it in and out of your obscenely squelching wetness, only to pull away again anytime he feels you beginning to tighten around him.

He doesn't want to punish you, making you whine loudly when he lets his large palm connect firmly with your spread pussy.

Sukuna doesn't want to spank and edge you until you are a crying, needy mess who promises him over and over again that you won't leave the penthouse on your own again.

"Please, Sukuna! Please...I... please... I won't go out on my own again! Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I'll be your good girl!"

Sukuna hates having to use his power and strength like that. But he also knows that pain is a good way to ensure a lesson is learned. And at least this is a pleasurable pain, judging by the way you mewl when he pushes two long fingers deep into your soaking wet cunt and fucks you hard and deep with them, torturing your g-spot unrelentingly while his other hand spanks your sensitive flesh.

Your whole body shakes as you cum all over his long fingers that are stuffing your cunt while Sukuna's other hand connects hard with your ass again, spanking and fingering you to an orgasm that makes you cry out loudly.

Sukuna lets out a long breath. The hand that spanked you is brushing gently over your abused skin now, caressing it lovingly, while he slowly fucks you through your orgasm. His voice is low, sensual, and full of love,

"Yes, just like that, sweetheart. You can be so good for me when you want. And I hate having to act like such an asshole. I love you, darling. I just want you to be safe. Do you understand that?"

He smiles when you answer him with a voice thick with tears but also filled with that sweet euphoria you always get after Sukuna made you cum.

"Hmm, yes, I know. I'm sorry for being so reckless, Kuna. I love you too."

You scramble to get up, and Sukuna quickly helps you, wrapping his strong arms safely around you and pulling you up so you straddle his lap, your wet cunt soaking his fine suit pants.

You smile at him and wrap your arms around his neck,

"But, next time, just tell me the whole truth, so I know how dangerous things are at the moment. You shouldn't keep these things from me, baby. I can take it, you know?"

Sukuna's lips lift in an amused smirk, his large hands sprawling over your naked ass, pulling you closer, his lips ghosting over your neck. He presses a tender kiss to your pulse point while lifting his hips to let you feel the large, hard bulge in his pants, his throbbing cock pressing against your hot wet cunt, only separated by the soaked-through fabric of his suit pants and boxer briefs.

"First, show me how you can take Daddy's cock, and then I will tell you everything."

FUCKKK I NEED HIM!!!! Yakuza!Sukuna still manages to make my head spin, and I am so happy I could indulge in this!! Thank you so much for the prompt!! And thank you so much for reading!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ♥️♥️

You can find more Yakuza King!Sukuna stories here

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

[astronicht]

Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.

In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).

not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.

At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.

Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.

Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.

Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.

THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.

Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics

This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.

Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.

Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.

I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.

edit: part II

#astro lotr #at what cost

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

The Meetup

《Part 2 for Next Caller

《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《Summary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.

《Warnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)

Word count: 7.7k

A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.

Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.

Mini series masterlist

18+ minors dni

Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.

Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.

You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.

"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.

"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.

"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.

"I'm fucking desperate over here."

He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"

You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.

You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.

Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.

He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.

The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.

Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.

Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.

Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.

"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.

Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.

"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.

He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."

"So whatever you suggest."

You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."

"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."

"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.

He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.

Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."

"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.

"Oh..um okay well then."

You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.

"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.

"Oh, I need a large."

You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.

"Nope." You shook your head.

"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.

"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.

"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.

The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.

You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"

You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.

"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.

"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.

His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."

You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.

"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."

"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.

He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."

"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.

You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.

The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.

You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.

Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.

Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.

Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.

You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.

When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."

He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."

There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.

Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.

The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.

Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.

You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.

You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.

She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.

"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.

"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.

"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.

You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."

"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.

He frowns. "Boyfriends?"

You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.

"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.

"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.

He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.

The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.

You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.

"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.

"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.

You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"

You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.

He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."

You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.

"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.

Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"

"No girlfriends."

He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.

He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"

"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.

The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.

He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."

"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.

You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"

He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."

You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.

The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.

He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.

"Yes." You panted.

Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.

He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."

You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.

You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."

He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"

"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.

"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.

You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.

"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.

You nodded again. "Okay, i will."

"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.

He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.

"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.

He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.

"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.

"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.

That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.

"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.

He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"

"Feel how hard I am for you?"

You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."

His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.

"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.

He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.

"Can I taste you?" He rasped.

You let out groan. "Please"

You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.

"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.

No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.

He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."

Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.

He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."

He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.

"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.

You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.

Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled

He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"

"Why'd you stop?" You whined.

He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.

You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."

His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.

Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.

Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.

He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.

"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.

You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.

He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.

"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.

Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.

He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.

"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.

"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."

"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."

He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.

"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.

He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.

"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.

Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.

You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.

Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.

Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.

"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.

Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."

Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.

He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."

Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.

"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you

You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.

Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."

You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.

Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."

"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.

With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."

You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.

He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.

You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.

"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.

"No problem." He snorted.

There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.

"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.

He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "

"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.

He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.

"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.

"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"

"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.

You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"

"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.

"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.

"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.

You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"

"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.

"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.

"I love bad puns."

He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.

Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.

He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.

Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.

You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.

Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.

You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.

"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.

He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.

"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.

"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.

He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."

"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.

He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.

"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.

You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"

You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.

"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.

You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.

Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.

He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.

"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.

He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."

"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.

Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.

Biting his lip to stifle another moan.

"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."

Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"

"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.

"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."

You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.

Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.

You interrupt him from his thoughts

"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.

"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.

Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.

He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."

"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.

....."Yeah?" You cooed.

"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."

He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.

You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.

There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.

"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.

"You think of me?"

"Yeah," you muttered quietly.

"So tell me." He commanded gently.

You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."

"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.

Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.

"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.

"I don't think I could fit all of you."

"Fuuuck." He groans

"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"

You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."

His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.

"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.

He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.

"Shit"

"Fuck"

You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.

"Hang on!" He called out

He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."

Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.

"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.

"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.

"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.

You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.

"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.

He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."

Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.

..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."

"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.

Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #90!eddie #shy!reader #college!eddie

[livinginshambles]

You're unbelievable (derogatory) | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You're best friends with James, but since his new relationship with Lily, you find yourself standing on the side more often than not.

Your friendship with James breaks when he has to choose between you or Lily, and it's only after the damage is done that he realizes the consequences of his actions.

Note: Lily's kind of a not cool in this fic. Not proofread, mistakes (grammar and maybe continuity because I rewrote the middle from memory) Time lines are wrong, howarts is endless.

_______________________

“James Potter, you’re unbelievable!” You exclaimed, and if not for the widest grin ever plastered on you face, those words could hold an entirely different meaning. You gave James a tight side hug while you clutched your precious gift to your chest.

“Well, you better believe it darling,” Sirius appeared on your left. “Prongs made us stand in line for that signed copy for eight hours. EIGHT HOURS,” he complained and shook James back and forth by his shirt collar.

“And not to mention, he woke us up at 2 o’clock in the morning for that,” Peter happily reminded him, and Sirius wailed at the memory and dramatically dropped to his knees. You stumbled back and James was quick to hold you steadily.

“Oh, quit it with the theatrics,” Remus mused, and he pulled Sirius up from the floor where he had slouched his entire weight against your legs. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Sirius huffed. “For you maybe. Because you secretly wanted to get your book signed too,” he accused Remus. Remus sheepishly shrugged.

James pressed a kiss to your temple, and you melted inside. “Happy birthday, love,” he whispered with a fond smile, and you bashfully looked away.

“Thanks,” you muttered awkwardly. Godric, you despised the attention that birthdays bring along.

“On that note, I’m heading towards the library,” you excused yourself. “But thank you guys so much for getting that book for me, I love you guys so much,” you said and blew them a kiss as you stepped backwards to the door.

“Hold on,” James frowned. “We’re not celebrating?”

“Uh, no I have to work on our Potions assignment.”

“Oh. Well, let me walk you to the library, yeah?” James offered, but you had an inkling feeling that it wasn’t really a question.

You laughed and pulled a face at him. “I can’t stop you anyways, can I? You’re an absolute menace, Potter.”

“I’m just trying to spend the day together.” James wrapped an arm around you and guided you towards the door. 

“You know, the day on which the world has been blessed with your birth. And just as it was always meant to be, might I add, because look at where this led, such a perfectly beautiful day to celebrate.” He winked.

“Today is a wonderful day,” you hummed in agreement. “But you know I was supposed to be born late April, not March. So not really ‘as it was always meant to be’ at all,” you pointed out.

James rolled his eyes. “Uh, yes it was. Otherwise, we would’ve never met at the hospital and become bestest friends.”

“That’s not even correct gramm-”

“Besides, didn’t see you much today,” James unbotherdly continued.

You shook your head in amusement. “Come along then,” you pretended to relent in a joking manner. James was already pulling you along anyway.

You looked back at the rest of the marauders. “You guys also coming?”

You got an unenthusiastic hum from Peter and nothing from Remus, who was too deep in his book to have heard you. You looked at Sirius.

“Darling, I love you, but that’s six flights of stairs,” Sirius laughed, and he settled in on the sofa.

You gasped in fake horror. “So, is that the limit of your love for me?” You sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear. “I guess-, I guess that’s it then. We’re just not meant to be,” you sighed.

“I know, darling. And I’m sorry. Just know, it’s not you, it’s me,” Sirius solemnly agreed.

You opened your mouth to continue your devastating-sad-ending-love-story when James, who had felt strangely annoyed at Sirius, impatiently grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.

You enjoyed the feeling of walking hand in hand with James, even though it was short-lived. He let go of your hand as soon as he realized he was still holding it, and you two walked next to each other in a comfortable silence. Again, short-lived.

“I swear, one of these days, Lily might give me a chance. She smiled at me yesterday after supper, you know.” James happily bragged, eyes in a dreamy haze, no doubt imagining Lily.

You peered up at him and quietly admired his blissed look. It may never be directed towards you but seeing him so happy really made you glad and all warm inside.

Not that you’d ever let him know that.

Instead, you snorted at his words, tiptoed, and slung an arm across his broad shoulders. “In your dreams, maybe,” you sassed at him. James wanted to huff at your reply, but at your struggle to reach his other shoulder, he couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder instead.

“You’ve got to stop growing, James,” you protested and ducked out from under his arm.

“Quite the opposite actually, perhaps you should start,” he mocked you and you reached out to shove him but he put a step back out of the way fluently and then smoothly pulled back his shoulder just in time when you tried to shove him again. “So predictable,” he tsked. You opted to stick out your tongue instead.

“So,” James started. You hummed in reply. “Mum’s asking if you’re spending Easter with us again,” he casually mentioned.

“Oh really, Euphemia is asking me huh,” you teased him.

James looked away embarrassedly.

“Hm, not sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “Think I’m gonna be sort of preoccupied with my cousins from Ireland,” you looked at him through the corner of your eyes and caught his disappointed expression. A grin grew on your face like that of a Cheshire cat and you nudged him again.

“Oh, come on James, I’m kidding, you know. I’ve literally never not spent Easter with you. Besides, I live right across the street, James. I can literally come over any time, even if my cousins visit.”

“Yeah, but I meant like stay over at my house for the whole holiday,” James pouted. You glanced at him and smiled fondly. “Well, again; I live right across the street. So I guess I can also just go and visit my cousins at my house any time.”

You finally reached the bottom of the staircases and stopped mid-step. “Bloody hell, I forgot my books.”

You shot James a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just have to go back up real quick, but it won’t be long at all-.”

“I’m right behind you, love.”

“You can’t be serious,” you gaped at him.

James was beaming. Sirius and Remus’ jaws were slacked on the floor and Peter frowned as if he was trying to comprehend James’ statement.

“She agreed to a date!?” Sirius shrieked out. “But-,” Sirius stammered and he let his eyes fall onto you for a split second. It was very quiet for a moment while all of you processed this news.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Prongs,” you grinned up at him. “Not such a far-fetched idea after all.” You smiled encouragingly at him and he shot you a grateful look.

“Congrats,” you nudged him, and that seemed to break the rest of the marauders out of it, all congratulating and offering date ideas.

You zoned out for a moment. A bitter-sweet taste in your mouth. You we’re thrilled for James. You knew how much she meant to him. But that little piece of hope that you had unconsciously clung onto, made the news tough to take.

Regardless, you were just happy to have James in your life. He was your best friend, and you would support him, no matter what. Because you knew he’d do the same for you.

“When’s the date?” you curiously asked.

James scratched his head. “Uh, next week, Friday night.”

“Wait, Friday when you were going to take me to see the blue crescent moon?” you deadpanned.

“I’ll take you to the next one, I promise,” James solemnly swore and he put his hand on his heart.

You huffed in disappointment but quickly turned around to face Remus with a sweet smile. “Remus, my best friend,” you started, and instantly got pulled back by James who wore a pout on his face.

“Wait, it was supposed to be a you and me thing,” he whined while he tugged you back into his side. You stuck your tongue out and ruffled his hair.

“You’re busy, and the next blue moon is going to be a full moon, so we’ll be with Remus,” you pointed out. “And after that, it’ll be another two years until the next.” Then you skipped back over to Remus.

James hummed in thought. He knew you were right. “Fine,” he reluctantly said. “But I’m taking you to watch the passing comet next month,” he bargained.

You stuck out your hand with a laugh. “Deal,” you grinned.

“It’s a promise,” James confirmed.

It became clear to you that you might have overestimated your own importance to James after he and Lily officially started dating.

Your eyes were searching for James, and you decided to confront him when you spotted him.

“James!” You ran to catch up to him. You smiled at Lily with a small wave. “Lily,” you acknowledged her. “Can I borrow him for a moment?” You asked her. She shrugged and waved her hand in a discarding manner, “of course.”

“Hey uh, you didn’t show up yesterday, just checking in?” you asked James in concern when Lily was out of reach.

James mind blanked for a moment. He was racking his brain about ‘yesterday’ and his eyes grew wide when realization hit him. “Bloody hell, I completely forgot!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah,” you laughed, relieved that he was alright and had just forgotten about it.

“Well you didn’t show up in the astronomy tower so I tried looking for you, but I couldn’t find you. I asked Sirius for the map, but can you believe it? He said he’d lost it.”

You chuckled when you recalled his apologetic expression and completely missed the way James shut his eyes and pinched his nose in guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” James said. He pulled you into a hug.

“Eh, don’t worry about it, Sirius joined me to watch the comet pass by. Wasn’t that impressive, but it did look like a falling star so I guess I made a wish, and-”

“Can have him back now?” Lily’s voice came from behind him, and he quickly released you. “Yeah, of course,” you rushed to say, but she had already grabbed him by the arm and led him away.

James looked back at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’ at you. You shook your head dismissively and raised your thumbs up.

It was only during the next missed hangout, two weeks later, that you found out he forgot because he’d been with Lily instead.

Peter had seen you off to find James, and had watched you return three hours later, a sad look on your face.

“Not again,” he’d groaned and slipped up. You couldn’t be angry at James because you realized that he was just putting effort into his new relationship. Peter had hugged you and you two had spent the evening sneaking into the art room to paint each other.

Peter was surprisingly a splendid artist and you had put the painting that he painted of yourself against the wall on the floor next to your bed, and gave Peter the one you painted of him.

“Damn, Peter,” James nodded at the canvas. “You painted that?”

“Huh? Oh,” Peter was getting dressed and pulled his sweater over his head. He looked from the painting to James. “Uh, Y/N did,” he beamed. “It looks good right?”

“You guys painted..?”

“Yeah, cause you didn’t show up again yesterday,” Peter casually mentioned. “You know, she was-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because James had already sprinted out of the room to find you to apologize.

But as usual, James thought it had to be a grand gesture.

Flowers! Lily liked flowers. Girls like flowers, perfect. The idea popped up in his head, and he went to work to cover your entire dorm and bed with flowers.

It seemed like a perfect idea.

Until it evidently wasn’t. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind,” James apologized for the thousandth time as he sat by at the side of the hospital bed with the rest of the marauders. They shared a look with each other.

“Well, I bet you’ll never forget about my severe flower allergy ever again now,” you joked in attempt to console him. Your face was swollen and your eyes were bloodshot.

You smiled at James and tried to push back the hurt you felt at the fact that he forgot about something as important as that.

“I’ll make it up to you,” James quickly promised with a grimace.

“Do you get that same sense of déjà vu or is it just me,” Sirius remarked from the other side of the bed.

“No, I get it too,” Peter agreed almost too quickly.

James frowned at his friends for the little jab. They knew he didn’t do it on purpose right? He looked at Remus for support.

“Better be one hell of an idea,” was all he said.

“Oh come on,” you attempted to kick Sirius weakly with your leg but failed because your legs were still half paralyzed.

“Stop giving him such a hard time,” you started. James shot you a relieved look.

“He’s already feeling shit for almost killing me,” you grinned and James groaned and dropped his head on the side of your bed. You moved your arm with some effort and let your fingers stroke through his hair.

“I’ll be the best best-friend there is, starting from right now. I’ve got so many ideas for Easter holiday and it includes your favorite chocolate,” he promised in a muffled voice.

 

Whatever you imagined his ideas for activities during the Easter holiday included, it wasn’t with Lily in the picture. Yet here you were, sitting across of her at the dinner table.

They were both deeply engrossed in each other and you and Fleamont shared a look.

“How’s your year been, sweetheart?” Fleamont asked and he looked at you over his glasses. You smiled at him, relieved.

“It was great so far, I mean, despite being bedridden for two weeks, but the guys have been great,” you jumped to talk about your adventures.

“I went to watch the blue crescent moon with Remus, and the comet with Sirius. And I’ve painted with Peter! I’ve got to say, he’s painted me in a flattering light,” you rambled on passionately.

“Oh, and we’ve started a study group thing together, it’s basically just Remus and I trying to help Sirius and Peter though,” you lightheartedly joked.

“We’ve played some harmless pranks too, like turning every toad into a cat and every cat into a toad, it was utter chaos!” You shared and at his disapproving look and focus on James, you quickly intervened. “Don’t worry, James didn’t do anything, he’s been good,” you joked.

You missed Fleamont’s raised eyebrows.

“I’ve been swimming in the lake with the boys and pranked Remus and Peter with Sirius and pretended to be merpeople, you should’ve heard their screams!”

Your eyes were gleaming at this point as you relived your happiest moments so far. “Well, until Remus cast a spell on Sirius that turned him into a slug of course.”

“So when the four of us went to Hogsmeade…” You continued to ramble on and failed to notice how James’ eyes subconsciously trailed over to you every now and then, listening in on the conversation and realizing his name never fell once.

Lily noticed his divided attention and was unsurprisingly and rather justifiably annoyed at James.

She voiced out her concerns to James that very night during which you had excused yourself and gone home across the street.

You didn’t want to third wheel and Godric forbid should you share a room with Lily.  She hated your guts as it was and you didn’t feel like being smothered in your sleep.

When you had offered to go back home, you had sort of hoped he would say something along the lines of “No, please stay” and instead were met with a “Yeah, that’s probably for the best”.

And now, all he could wish for was chilling on his bed with you next to him while he was being chastised by Lily. His eyes glanced up and he stared at the enchanted bedroom ceiling full of stars, Lily’s voice long gone from his mind.

“Are you even listening to me?” She waved her hand in front of his face and he fought the urge to pull an annoyed face at her.

At his lack of response though, she repeated herself. “I’m your girlfriend. I thought you wanted this?”

James let her words sink in for a moment. She was all he ever wanted. And it was so so different from what he’d imagined it would be like.

Of course, he wasn’t planning on breaking up or anything, he didn’t want to be that douchebag that was only in it for the chase after all. And he hoped somehow that those feelings would return sometime.

She was everything he wanted. He just wished she’d be more interested in his friends, less disapproving of his pranks, or more proud of his achievements at Quidditch.

He would appreciate it if she were just a little bit more patient with him, and shared a little bit of his humour.

He just wanted her to be more open and enthusiastic about their relationship and himself.

He wanted her to be a little more like you-

He reeled back from that revelation. Oh.

Oh no. That would ruin his friendship.

“-and you know what, you can’t have both, James,” Lily continued and he snapped out of his thoughts.

“I can’t be your girlfriend if she’s in the picture. So choose. It’s me or her.”

James stared at her in surprise and then walked out of his room without another word to her.

He looked out the window at the real starry night sky. It seemed to him that he’d lose you regardless. But maybe, he’d be happy with Lily. She was all that matters, he convinced himself.

“Don’t you see how wrong it is that she’s making you choose,” you asked him incredulously, but your eyes looked at him pleadingly. James forced himself to look back at you and shook his head.

“No, she’s-, she’s right,” he mumbled, and you staggered back at that. “I mean, you’re a girl, you know?” You raised your eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. “Astute observation.” You dryly remarked.

“And everyone assumes things about us, so please, you have to understand that this isn’t fun for Lily either,” James tried. “I just can’t be friends with you and be in a relationship with Lily at the same time.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“I can’t,” he urged. “And between you or her, I choose her. She’s my girlfriend,” he reasoned.

“And I’m your best friend since we were born,” you stubbornly retorted.

James looked at you beggingly, hoping that you’ll understand his predicament and that you’d make it easy on him. At the squint of your eyes and the deepening frown on your face, he gulped. “Please. I’m really sorry, but I have to choose her,” he finished weakly, doubling down on his decision.

Realizing that he wasn’t joking, it felt like he might as well have punched you in the gut. Your stubborn look flickered to hurt and then morphed into an ice-cold front of indifference.

You took a deep breath and collected yourself. You stared at him up and down, not recognizing your best friend in him anymore.

“You’re unbelievable,” you shook your head at him, and your voice was devoid of any emotion. With no other words to address the situation, you pushed past him roughly.

Months passed by and the summer vacation started. Then it ended and Hogwarts began again. All without a word from James. He had stopped spending much time with the marauders, mostly busy with walking after Lily.

Sometimes he would glance at you when she wasn’t watching, and he’d feel so lonely.

He waited for you during the vacation, but you never went to yourr house across his. Instead you spent your time with your cousins in Ireland.

When he made his way towards the platform on September 1st,  he felt weird. First of all, he was slightly reluctant to go. He realized that he had thoroughly enjoyed his holiday without Lily.

But secondly, and perhaps most importantly; This was the first time ever that he went to the Hogwarts Express by himself, without you by his side, and an epiphany cleared his mind. Everything was so wrong.

 

You eyed him up and down. With lack of better words, he looked terrible. So terrible, that you might’ve pitied him any other time, because how could you ever be angry at James, when he looked so sad.

When his eyes are glassy and red. When his hair is disheveled as a result of an undoubtedly rough night. When his voice cracked at his sloppy apology. Or when his lips trembled almost unnoticeably when you said no.

But all of that wouldn’t magically clear away your own misery of the past months.

“I was supposed to be your best friend,” you enunciated slowly. “It’s always been you and me. Merlin, we’ve known each other since we were born and they ran out of baby cribs at St. Mungo’s, so they put us together in one!” you exclaimed.

You bitterly scoffed to yourself at the reminder of your literal lifelong friendship.

“But you cut me off for a relationship with Lily? Lily who rejected you for years and when she finally did agree to date you, never even gave you the time of the day?”

You stared at him incredulously and had to remind yourself to tone down your voice a little. You had unconsciously been raising it and didn’t want to attract unwanted attention.

“You followed her around like a lost puppy and cast me aside because she didn’t trust you for being friends with a girl and you were so easy to discard me,” you laughed humorlessly, trying to mask your hurt feelings. “I guess I must’ve really not meant all that much to you.”

To James’ credit, he at least had the decency of looking remorseful. His own words were replaying on a loop in his head. Of course he regretted it all.

“You can’t come back after that and expect me to just open my arms for you,” you firmly stated.

James looked at you helplessly, and you let out another laugh in disbelief. “Oh, Godric, you did,” you stared at him with wide eyes in surprise.

James could feel himself getting flustered and spoke up again. “I just thought that maybe-,”

“No, no, no. Like I said, I’m not doing this again.”

“Please, lov-, Y/N please, if you would just let me prove to you that you do mean so much to me,” His voice was getting increasingly more desperate. “I just want-, I need you to give me a second chanc-”

“A second chance? James, you are way past that. You’ve already had a second chance,” you bitterly told him. “Merlin, I’ve given you a second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth chance. I would’ve given you a thousand chances, but even that, you threw away.”

You tiredly rubbed your face. “I have nothing left to give you.”

Your words hit him in the face and his chest tightened.

“Oh… No, I-, I definitely understand.” His voice came out quietly.

James wanted to hide away. He felt utterly pathetic and ashamed at his own actions.

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone, then.” He turned around but stopped mid step.

“But Y/N? If you ever change your mind, or if you ever need me, I’ll be there for you this time. Always right behind you.” James let his eyes linger on your face for a moment, taking you in. Merlin, he really missed you.

Your mind struggled to find the words to properly articulate all that you’ve felt these past months.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For not trying to fight for you more,” you sympathetically offered.

“Oh, what? No, that’s-, it really was all my own fault. I chose her over you, and it was stupid. I was stupid, not you.”

“I don’t know. I feel like I should’ve tried harder to find a solution. I regret it too, you know, that we lost us.”

James frowned at your words.

“You-, I don’t even-,” you sighed. “I thought we would be in it for life, you know,” you eventually confessed, and James eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if he understood that completely, but his heart had made a small jump at your confession. Surely you didn’t actually mean…?

“Maybe not side by side as lovers or anything,” you quickly tried to cover yourself, but instead confirmed James’ thoughts. “But I was so sure we’d be partners nonetheless.” James watched you smile fondly, but sadly at the thought.

“I tried so hard not to be jealous of the fact that I was no longer the first person you’d go to for everything.” You chewed on your lower lip and James forced himself to pry his eyes away from it.

“You could be again,” James whispered to himself. But it was loud enough for you to hear it. You chose to ignore it and the way your heart tugged.

“But it was never an issue of jealousy when you actively forgot me on so many different occasions and then just kicked me out for her.”

“I'm sorry, I don’t know why I… how I even…”

“Look, I have to go,” you settled on, and nodded awkwardly at him. “But thanks for apologizing,” you added before you left.

You’d gone about your life according to the same routine of the past few months and paid James little to no mind. Though he was spending all of his time with the marauders again, you somehow found a way of disappearing right when he would arrive.

Days passed and James watched you laugh at the punchline of the joke that a ghost had told you. So close and yet so far.

James knew that you told him no when he had asked if things could go back to the way they were, but he couldn’t give up on you. It was as if something was physically stopping him from doing so.

He wanted you to see him again, but would never cross your boundaries, which left him in a difficult position.

The first opportunity presented itself when he overheard some guy talk shit about you. Except he only saw red instead of an opportunity. Because how dare they.

“She’ll give in someday. I’ll show her how to have a good time. Godric knows she’s too prudish, wouldn’t even let me-“

James surged forward before he could even think and grabbed the guy by the collar, his wand was pointed at the boy’s throat in a matter of seconds, a piercing glare on his face as he gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t.” It was a warning and the boy heeded it and scrambled away when James released him.

“What are you looking at,” he called out to the students that had stopped to watch what was happening. They too, quickly scrambled away, pretending they hadn’t seen a thing.

But by supper, everyone had heard about it, including you. You looked at him from further down the table and nodded at him with a appreciated smile.

James heart skipped a beat and he dreamed of you that night.

So what else could he do for you that would make you happy, he wondered while he wandered around the castle. The marauders were hanging out with you right now, leaving James to his own devices.

“Books!” He yelled out loud and it startled a cat. “Signed books had been successful, right? But what books, and how to…” He muttered to himself.

You stared at the pile of books that started to form next to you while owls flew in and back out again, only to return with more books. When you opened the one on the pile to your left, you saw that it was signed by one of your favorite authors.

Your eyes grew wide and you quickly inspected the signature from up close. Your hands stroked the beautiful hard back cover of the book. First copy.

People all over the great hall were looking at the spectacle  but you just laughed and blew a kiss at the last owl.

You glanced at James because you knew it was him who orchestrated all of this. Only he would know all your favorite authors and books.

James simply offered you a smile and continued eating his food, but he was absolutely beaming inside at the gleeful look on your face.

You visited him in his dorms that night. “James,” you whispered. You held your finger to your lips as a sign not to wake the others.

“James, thank you for the books, they’re amazing,” you told him. “But James, you’ve got to stop. Don’t fight on my behalf. Don’t spend so much money on me. Please “ you begged him.

James’ smile fell. “I made you uncomfortable,“ he noted. You sighed and sat down on his bed. “I used to give you gifts all the time,” he weakly defended himself.

“I don’t want to forgive you,” you started. James looked down.

“You hurt me. Do you get that? You hurt me and broke our friendship and I don’t know when I’ll want to be friends again, but it’ll never the same when I do. So you have to stop doing all of this. You can’t try to buy it with gifts and heroic deeds.”

“I don’t want it to be the same either,” James sighed out in a defeated tone. “I just need you with me. One way or another. I’m not trying to buy anything, I just want to make you happy.”

You understood his words and the implied confession behind them. After all, you had felt the exact same way months ago.

You sadly smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. James closed his eyes at the contact and tried to savor the moment. You really were his greatest regret.

“I don’t want to forgive you,” you stubbornly repeated.

“You don’t have to. I just want to be there.”

“Right behind me, right? No matter what pace?”

“Of course,” he replied.

It took time. Months and months actually, where he respected your boundaries and slowly inserted himself back into your life, with your permission of course.

At first simply joining you with the marauders again. Then thoughtful actions such as giving you his spare quill. Later on even sitting next to you during Transfiguration and building up to study nights and eventually back to star gazing.

However slow it was, everything was worth it, James thought to himself as he opened the door to invite you in for the Easter holiday.

“Hi, thank you for coming over,” he widely smiled.

“Ah you know, I live right across the street, love.”

 

Taglist: Only 50 first people, rest in comments.

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @loudflowerss @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @laraoverthinks @starsanddream @btsw1fe @larahatesbeinghere @kquil @moonys-luvr @consumingwaters @mindflay3r @magpiesworld

@my-beloved-fandoms @dreamsygirl @papichulo120627 @nokkoongie @sbrewer21 @helloitsmeeeeeee @magical-spit @clumsyassbitch

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic

[pandoraslxna]

pervert!neteyam masturbating and imagine he's fucking reader 🫣

A mighty warriors need

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: The only trouble Neteyam allows himself to get into, is you.

Warnings: explicit smut, voyeurism, male masturbation, teacher/student dynamic, reader trained for her iknimaya at 18, slight age difference (Neteyam is 28, reader is 20), sexual fantasies

Notes: Just something short while we wait for my precious sun to come back and continue her event <3

Adult Neteyam art was made by @Cinetrix 🩵

Neteyam, for all that he tries to stay out of trouble and follow into his father’s footsteps, has never had a particularly relaxing life, or even one lazy day all to himself.

He has also always been what dad calls an "early bird".

When he was a child, his father told him stories of the time when he was a soldier on earth, how his superiors had called him an early bird too, because he was always the first to wake. Dad said, it‘s a quality that shows of discipline.

And that’s part, if not the main reason, why Neteyam has always raised from his hammock before the very first rays of sun could even cast over the horizon.

Stretching his limbs, his tired bones crack and he has to stifle a chuckle because he knows if mother was awake she would scold him because she dislikes the sound of that. After rolling his hammock together and stuffing it away, he walks over to his siblings, all three of them still sound asleep.

He pulls Tuks blanket up, gives her a little kiss on the forehead and then leans over to tip Lo‘aks chin up so he closes his mouth and rolls over in his sleep. It stops him from snoring, and then Neteyam watches with a fond smile how Kiris brows relax as the annoying sound finally stops.

Dad is now up too. He hears him shuffle around quietly in the dark, then nods his head at him when they pass each other. A silent greeting to not wake the rest of the family, before Neteyam ties his cummerbund around his hips and steps outside.

He knows his father is in no rush to start the day before he had what the human called coffee, a brownish powder brewed in a cup. It’s one of the very few human quirks his old man can’t seem to lay off.

But neither he nor the rest of the family seem to mind. It also gives him time to participate in the sacred morning rituals, offering prayers to Eywa, before he goes to pick fruit for breakfast.

Alongside his father, he then attends council meetings where they discuss matters of governance, strategize for the clan's protection, and ensure the well-being of their community.

As a skilled warrior, Neteyam leads training sessions for younger Na'vi warriors. He prepares his students for their upcoming iknimaya, imparting his knowledge of combat and hunting techniques, survival skills and the importance of harmony with nature, as well as the balance of life that eywa protects.

It’s not everyday, but he also engages in diplomatic meetings with neighboring clans whenever his father is too busy to attend himself, fostering alliances and resolving conflicts. It‘s his diplomacy skills, honed through years of observing his father, that help him navigate discussions and negotiations, that ensure the unity and prosperity of their people, which are also well respected, especially among the olangi clan. The flight on his ikran is short, and it’s barely an hour before he‘s back home.

Evenings are dedicated to spending time with his family. Neteyam joins his parents, siblings and the rest of the clan in sharing a meal, one who’s meat he often participated in hunting the day prior. Engaging in the lively conversations around him has always come naturally to him.

You see, with great responsibilities befitting his impending role, his day was usually filled with numerous duties and commitments, leaving barely any time for him to step out of line even if he wanted to. The only time during his busy day that he made sure was strictly reserved for himself, was the time past eclipse.

As the sun sets and dawn casts its ethereal glow over the forest, he leaves behind the clamor of his responsibilities and disappears far off the village. With agile grace, he climbs onto a tree, finding solace on a sturdy branch that offers a panoramic view of the forest below.

Seated high off the ground, Neteyam takes a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the forest. He closes his eyes, allowing the soothing sounds of nature to envelop him, the rustling leaves, the distant calls of animals, before he opens them again. Right on cue, he hears the sweet humming sound coming from below him, where a small river ripples.

He can't help it. He should perhaps try harder to help it, but he cannot quite summon the willpower.

His position gives him the perfect view of the main reason he occupied himself here in the first place. It was something he just had to do to maintain his focus and equilibrium. It even reached a point where he found himself eager for it, looking forward to this rare moment he had all to himself. The only time where he allowed himself to act upon his own desires. And it was the rush of adrenaline and the excitement of doing something so forbidden and dishonorable that bought him here day after day.

This spot here in the forest, this river below– it was your favored bathing spot. And Neteyam always made sure he had front row seats to the little private show you so unknowingly put on just for him.

The thing that Neteyam had with you, was that you‘ve always been trouble. The only kind of trouble he ever allowed himself to get into.

Logically, he’s known it since the first day of your training, when you were one of his numeyu [students]. He’d watched you undercut his authority a little more with every lesson, and underneath the spark of annoyance that had flooded his veins, he remembers thinking: this one’s going to be trouble, in the kind of way that made him want to smile. He hadn’t, at the time– but he had wanted to, and that was no small feat.

Now, you’re trouble in a different kind of way. Still in a way that makes him smile, but now... you’re the kind of trouble that he thinks could fuck up every single rule and regulation he’s ever made to keep himself disciplined, and he’s fairly sure that he’d let you if you asked nicely.

Fuck, he’d probably let you if you didn’t ask him at all.

His throat feels tight as he glances down below, his hungry gaze landing on you just the moment you untie your loincloth and let it slide down to your ankles. His eyes travel over every inch of your exposed skin, every curve of your body, as you step into the shallow water.

Eywa, you’re a real sight.

Splashing some of the water onto your chest, he watches every little drop roll over your pretty tits, down to your navel. It’s like you’re making a show out of this, bending down to collect more water into your palms in a way that gives him the perfect view of your pretty pussy from behind.

Great mother, the things he would do to press his face between your thighs, smell your arousal, to taste the wetness.

Neteyam can’t help but let his hand skim over his chest, his toned abs and down past the cord that holds his loincloth together. His cock is hard and aching beneath the fabric, begging to be touched. He feels his heart speed up in anticipation, so he shuffles out of his clothes and wraps a hand around his shaft.

Squeezing the tip of his cock, where it turns from blue into a faint hue of purple, he forces the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he inhales deeply and your scent fills his nostrils and he bites down on his lip to hold in a moan.

It’s the same scent that was right under his nose when he had trained you not many years ago. When he had guided your hands to hold your bow, corrected your stance by pressing himself against your back and straightening your spine. It’s the same scent, just so much sweeter now that he has his cock in his hand.

He then rolls your name in his mouth, testing the syllables in a hushed whisper. He can envision moaning it, wants to moan it if he can be completely honest.

Neteyam watches you use different soaps and kinds of oils you made out of herbs and tree sap to rub into your skin. Your hands cup your breasts, palms running over your perky nipples until they’re shining in said oil and he imagines those perfect tits bounce right in front of his face while you’re riding him.

It’s a mouth watering image in front of his minds eye. You on top, your back arched, your hips rolling. And Neteyam, rolling right back, on his elbows, mouthing your breasts, your collar bone, feeling the way you would squeeze around his length as you ride him.

He runs a ghosting touch down his stomach, the vision of your hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member to put some friction onto your needy clit might have made him come when he was younger, but now he just groaned and let one hand wander to his balls to gently squeeze and knead them. His other hand strokes faster, tugging from base to tip in a quick rhythm that makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Neteyam can’t seem to keep them away from you, though, so he quickly opens them again. Feeling the pressure build and the heat start to flood his system, he attentively watched your delicate hands roam your body to further massage the oils and natural soaps into your skin.

He could almost feel those fingers on his cock, kneading the flesh of his inner thighs, wandering up and down, gripping him tightly, urging him on. He could imagine exactly how your hips would circle against his groin, the rub and retreat designed to tease his cock until he couldn’t fight it anymore and just started mindlessly rutting against your body.

Stepping deeper into the river, a content little moan leaves your parted lips as the water encircles your middle. It’s just now that he sees you have a wooden bowl with you. It floats on top of the water’s surface, before you dip it into the water and then empty it over your head to rins yourself off. Neteyam imagines the feel of it sluicing over your shoulders, your breasts, your belly, soothing tired and aching muscles. He imagines the warmth of the water flowing further down, dripping off your rounded hips, your mound. Stroking himself faster, he imagines running his tongue along your skin to catch every drop of water, imagines how rich it would taste of you. It’s such a perverted thought, so shamefully dirty that the sheer thought of voicing those fantasies makes his cock throb so hard that his breath catches in his throat.

It’s so dirty– he is so dirty.

If only you knew how many times he came into his fist with your name on his lips and those thoughts in his head. Neteyams face burns hot with shame, and he doesn't need a mirror to know it's suffused with a purplish blush.

Shuddering, then moaning softly, he stares as if hypnotized at those wonderfully plump lips of yours.

Eywa, he was really losing the battle with his own arousal. His thoughts jumped from one filthy image to the other, it was hard for him to focus on any part of your body for more than a minute because there was always something new, something hotter, something he wanted more desperately.

And now it were your lips. Those lips that would feel so incredible wrapped around his length, he knows it. A mouthy little thing like you surely was good for more than just talking back. Knowing you, you would definitely give it your all as you sucked his cock. He knows you would work through the stretch in your throat like a champ, would take him in deeper and deeper despite the way the fat tip of his cock would make you gag and bring tears to your eyes. You would suck him like your life depended on it, he was sure of it. And you would enjoy it. Would milk him dry over and over again, hell you would definitely beg him to let you suck him off.

Neteyam felt his orgasm overtake him, heat surging through his body like white fire. His hand moved faster, quick strokes that made his chest heave with desperation, chasing that pleasure high like prey, but then you– you turned around, and fuck, your gaze suddenly lands right on him. So direct, if his head was anywhere near clear enough to think, he would’ve realized that you must’ve known that he was there this whole time. But it was already too late now.

Eyes dark with lust, Neteyam held your eyes captive as you then wordlessly pushed him into his orgasm with a seductive little wink, watching with a growing smirk how his back arched and rope after rope of cum splattered against his palm.

See? You’re trouble. Trouble, in the worst of ways.

#Neteyam #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #avatar neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam sully smut #neteyam sully x reader

[reidmotif]

"Technically" Not A Student

Summary: Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .

Prompt:You’re Alex Blake’s TA when a Dr. Reid comes to guest lecture. Things get heated quickly when you're alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, guestlecturer!Spencer , age gap (roughly 10 years), car sex, heavy making out, unprotected sex, slight female masturbation, Spencer is smart and that's HOT, heavy sexual tension

Word Count: 5.1k

Being asked to be Alex Blake’s TA was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when it was presented to me as a first-year graduate student at Georgetown, I took it eagerly and never looked back. 

She had personally approached me after I’d finished a semester in her forensic linguistics class as a freshman, and commended me on my dedication to the material and my general work ethic, and then inquired if I’d ever consider filling out an application as her teaching assistant starting the next semester. 

I immediately agreed. It was a no-brainer. Blake was a seasoned professional in the career field I wished to enter, not to mention she’d been one of the best professors I’d had whilst taking classes at Georgetown. Knowing I’d be working so closely with her absolutely thrilled me. It provided opportunities I'd have never gotten otherwise.

For example, getting to sit in on the class the famed Spencer Reid would be lecturing on. 

She usually kept me quite busy, having me develop assignments and quizzes for her class when she had other responsibilities to attend to. I’d heard horror stories from other TA’s in which their supervisors would delegate ninety-nine percent of the work to their juniors, having them essentially teach the class for minimal recognition or pay. Blake wasn’t like that, and I was thankful. This time around though, she had very different instructions for me.

“You don’t need to prepare any material this time around.” Blake explained to me, and I nodded, listening diligently. “I’d just like you to sit in, and possibly take notes, as you see fit.” She added, and I flashed a polite smile, nodding. 

“No problem whatsoever. I’ll sit in the back so as to not bother any students as I do.” I replied, offering her as much convenience as I could within my actions.  

Secretly, I did want to catch more than a glimpse from the back of the room. I wanted to experience the esteemed colleague Blake had often spoken of with incredible fondness. I was aware he was slightly older than I was, and a bit socially inept from the way she described him in his stories, but I was also aware the man was a goddamn genius. She’d describe in precision the way Reid would pick up on patterns and leads faster than anyone else on the team, and his immense knowledge in multiple fields beyond criminal profiling. When she’d told me he had three pHDs, I had to hold back a gasp. I hadn’t even started my own doctorate, but the idea only exhausted me- and he had three?! Color me impressed. 

Blake, being as brilliant as she did, could sense the hidden enthusiasm in my eyes in meeting this man. 

“Honestly, I’d rather you sit in the front. If you’re taking notes for any student unable to attend, it’s more imperative that you know the contents of the lecture, rather than anyone else.” She said, smiling kindly. 

“That’s absolutely alright with me.” I say, even quicker than before, nodding, thoughtfully. In reality, the only thing I was thinking about was how close I’d be near the man. I had no idea what he looked like, what he sounded like, but something about him made my stomach flutter. 

“I’m sure Dr. Reid would be interested in meeting you, as well. He takes special interest in anyone pursuing our line of work.” Blake added. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the words made my cheeks light up with a hint of embarrassment.

I don’t know why, but he intimidated the hell out of me. The idea of him taking interest in a conversation with me made my heart beat slightly faster, and I nodded. I tried to convince myself that my nerves came from a purely professional standpoint, but regardless of my intentions, I was absolutely exhilarated by our imminent meeting.

While I knew there'd be initial awkwardness when I'd meet him, given my idolization of the man, I didn’t account for how terrible it’d actually be when I realized how fucking attractive he was. It was almost unfair. I was already tripping over the words I planned on saying in my head, and now he looked like that?

It was cruel.

The soft, doe eyes paired with sharp cheekbones. The slope of his nose, and the mess of brown curls atop his head. Every word out of his mouth was made even prettier by the soft curve and pinkness of his lips, and I found myself wanting to lunge over the table and kiss the hell out of him.

Needless to say, not the right thoughts to have about your professor’s (older) coworker. 

 While I was initially going to introduce myself to Dr. Reid before his lecture, hopefully establishing myself as a serious individual regarding my studies and eventual career, I shied away, opting for Blake to introduce me instead, nodding politely when he made eye contact with me, exchanging a quiet “hello” and taking my seat in the front.

That was it. And probably how it should be, considering I genuinely couldn’t think straight around him. Students began filtering in, and I took my spot at the front of the room, crossing my legs and beginning to outline his lecture as he began to speak. 

He was a brilliant lecturer, and it was honestly criminal he didn’t do this for a living. He gesticulated wildly throughout the whole of it, but every word of his was punctuated with a genuine passion that even some of the best professors on campus lacked. I did my best to diligently keep up with every point he brought up, but with how fast he spoke, it was difficult. Still, an effort was made. 

If that wasn’t enough to deal with, I swear the man kept making eye contact with me for the duration of his lecture. At first I believed I was imagining it, that his eyes kept drifting to mine by coincidence, but by the third time, I’d realized that everytime my eyes left his figure to scribble something, I’d look up to see his dark eyes boring into my soul, almost as if he was trying to solve me with a glance. It was intense and made my stomach turn in a way which wasn’t entirely unpleasurable, but I forced myself to remain professional.

 Blake did not need to see me absolutely lusting after her coworker, even if he was utterly fit. 

Anyway, he was probably only making eye contact considering I was in the front, and probably in an optimal spot for his eyes to focus on whilst addressing the whole of the class. Still, the way his gaze was trained on mine, reaching the deepest parts of my soul didn’t help the growing heat between my legs. 

I forced myself to focus on the board, my notes, anything but those godforsaken eyes for the rest of the lecture. Anytime we made eye contact afterwards, I’d quickly look down, like I’d been caught doing something terrible. 

Was anyone else seeing this? Was I insane and made delusional by my unexpected attraction to this man? Was he seriously making me wet just by looking at me? 

Yes. 

Sooner than anyone wanted, the lecture period had completed and Dr. Reid was finishing up. The students were absolutely enamored, especially the girls, as expected. Of course it wouldn’t be just me who’d noticed that in addition to being accomplished in his intelligence, he was also ridiculously easy on the eyes.

Blake stood in the corner, watching her students vacate the space, while some held back to talk to Dr. Reid as he packed his things. He seemed a bit shy at all the attention, but didn’t hesitate in explaining concepts to seemingly eager students, giving them all a soft, shy smile. 

God help me, he was adorable. How was I falling for a man I’d never even spoken a word to? 

I’d never left the classroom before Blake did, so as she stayed, I did as well, until the three of us were the only ones left in the room.  Blake smiled, walking up to Dr. Reid with her hands in her pocket. 

“You worked up quite the fanbase, Reid.” Blake said, a little playful.

Reid replied somewhat bashfully. “You have a great bunch of students.” He flashed a small smile at her as they spoke, still packing up his things. 

 The dynamic between my superior and the man was obviously sweet. They almost looked familial, which made sense. Blake had commented here and there that she managed to spend more time with the BAU with her actual family. I’m sure the latter was the same for Spencer. He probably had a doting girlfriend at home, ready to welcome him in her arms and I mentally kicked myself again for being so attracted to him.

He was nearly ten years older, for god’s sake! Enough! I screamed at myself. 

 I was brought out quite suddenly from my thoughts when Blake spoke in my direction. “This is (Y/N), my teaching assistant.” Reid came in my direction as I got up and approached him, offering a hand to me. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. Blake told me who you were, but we weren’t properly introduced.” 

I gave a firm shake to his hand, which I noticed was calloused and smooth at the same time. God, even his hands were pretty. He had long, slender fingers with short-kept nails. They were veiny, and looked strong. I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like inside of me, buried in the heat of my core as I begged him for more.. more.. 

I forced the thought out of my head, only nodding again at the handsome man. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Reid.” I say, forcing myself to be professional.

Stop thinking about fucking him! 

“Spencer works just fine.” He says, imparting a kind smile that nearly made my knees weak. Did he have any idea the embarrassing effect he was having on me? 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake looking at the two of us with a bit of a strange expression on her face. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh god. Could she tell? If she could, she said nothing. She gave us both a kind smile, before grabbing her own things.

“(Y/N)?” She called out, starting to walk to the door. “Mind locking up for me tonight?” She said, already throwing her keys to me. 

“That’s fine by me.” I say, grabbing her keys mid-air. I was used to this. Blake often wanted to leave a bit quicker than I did, and I was more than happy to assist in any way possible. What I didn’t realize, was that this left me and Spencer in the room alone, something I wanted to avoid, considering how fucking awkward this man was rendering me with so much as a glance at me.

I heard Blake leave, and as she quietly closed the door behind her, I leaned against a desk, keeping my eyes down as Spencer continued to pack his own things. I tried to not let my gaze drift to him, as I waited for him to finish up. 

I let my thoughts wander to the lecture, and couldn’t shake the feeling he’d evoked in me when he looked at me like that. This was honestly ridiculous. The man had barely spoken ten words to me, and here I was, absolutely mooning over him. It was a new low for me, but in my defense being a graduate student meant I didn’t have much time to get my .. needs fulfilled.

“That’s why” I convinced myself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a really long time. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“So, you’re a criminology student?” Spencer says, suddenly, breaking me out of my trance. 

I looked up, nodding. I responded on pure habit and instinct. ‘Yes, I’m in the process of getting my Masters in Criminology.” I said, nearly robotic. 

“That must be interesting.” Spencer replied, flashing me a sweet smile that caused an entirely new slew of butterflies to erupt in my stomach. “I never studied criminology specifically, but the classes I took interested me.” 

“Blake told me you had three pHDs.” I acknowledged, trying to return his smile, but in all honesty, I probably looked like an idiot. I was nervous as hell, and hoped he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t my fault. He was awe-causing. A sight to behold, if you will, in intelligence and appearance. 

He laughed good naturedly, “Yeah. Three.” He must’ve noticed the stars in my eyes, because he continues. “As well as a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Sociology. And I’m working on another in Philosophy.” He finishes with a smug, boyish type of smile. 

What was previously stars in my eyes, was now full blown shock all over my face. “Wow, Spencer.” I said, a little dumb-struck. “That’s.. a lot.” I add, a little stupidly, giving him a little laugh. 

He sweetly scratched his neck, revealing his self-consciousness. “Yeah? You think?” He says, a small smirk in his voice, and I laughed again. “You think I should stop after Philosophy?” 

“Totally. Save some knowledge for us.” I teased. It was comfortable. He was surprisingly easy to get used to. He was affable, despite how daunting his knowledge was. 

“Hey, you try graduating before you’re a teenager.” He defends himself, playfully. “Not much to do, really.” 

I laugh. “I don’t know.” I say, throwing my hands up a little. “Play ball? Run around?” I joke, and he makes a face at that, scrunching up his nose. 

“Not my thing.” He replies, smoothly, and I laugh. 

“Alright, fine. Keep your degrees doctor man.” And he laughs at my joke. Like, a real laugh. I didn’t even find my own rhetoric particularly humorous, but knowing that I’d gotten him to react like that made my cheeks glow. 

He finished packing the last of his things and slung his satchel bag over himself, starting to walk over to the door. I made sure to gather all my things, and walked to the door with him. He held it open for me, and I nodded my head in thanks, and he let it shut behind us. I turned around to lock it, using Blake’s keys and placing them in my bag securely, before looking at him. 

“Well, Spencer. It was nice meeting you, thank you for the lecture it was-” I start, but he interrupts me. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” He interjected, looking a little shy as he did. I smiled a little confusedly, wondering why he’d want to do so, but I gave him my answer, nonetheless. 

“I don’t have a car. I usually take the bus back to my apartment.” I explained, smiling softly. 

“The bus?” He says,  quirking his mouth to the side. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” He replies, a hint of concern in his voice. 

I gave a little sigh, “I mean, it’s fine.” I say, trying to laugh a little. “I’ve done it before.” I add, attempting to ease the worry out of his voice. “It’s not that late.” I say, but he simply shakes his head. 

“No way.” He says, still adamant on this. “I.. I can drive you home, if you’d like?” He says, his words going slightly on the higher pitch as he rolled out his proposal, and I gave a small grin at that. 

“Really? If it’s a hassle I can seriously just take the bus. I wouldn’t want you to keep anyone waiting at home or-” 

He interjects again. “No hassle. I promise. I want to.” He pauses, before adding, “No one at home. You’re probably going to be the last person I see today.” He seems to blush at his final admission, and my eyes widen in interest. No girlfriend? Score. 

“Alright, Spencer.” I say, smiling again. “Lead the way.” 

He led me to his car, an old-fashioned Volvo and I couldn’t help myself from gawking at it.

“God, you have a cool car too? Is there anything about you that isn’t interesting?” I say, aware I was probably stroking his ego a bit, but honestly I wanted to. The man was just so damn intriguing, and every new bit of information I learned about him only made me want to unravel the whole of him. To truly know him, in and out. 

He laughed, using his keys to manually unlock the door. “Oh, trust me. I’m plenty boring. The car is probably my only saving grace.” He joked, and I laughed again as I got into the car. 

“Oh, I highly doubt that, but if you say so.” I say, sweetly, and adding a light tone of flirtatiousness in my tone. He seems to blush at this again, and I begin to think about the events of day. The stares in class, the perpetual rosy tint on his cheeks that had been there since we began our conversation, the way he joked and laughed at my (admittedly, unfunny) jokes. 

Oh god. Did he like me? 

Only one way to find out. 

As Spencer got in the car and began driving onto the main road, I looked at him, trying to put on my best, innocent smile. “So, you said you’re not going home to anyone?” I say, a softness to my tone, but an undeniable hunger in it as well. 

“Uh.” He responds, that damned blush coming on, strong. “Yes.” He replies, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the road. 

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, a bit forwardly. 

Now he’s really blushing, stuttering a bit. “Oh, no. No girlfriend. Not much time, given the BAU and our schedule.” He said, almost clinically, and I nodded. 

“I mean, Blake has a husband.” I point out, a little smugly. 

“I guess.” He says, sighing a bit. “But, you know.” He says. He vaguely gestures to himself, and I look at him a little confused, tilting my head at him.

“Spencer, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” I say, with a little giggle. “But trust me, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” I continue, before I can stop myself.

He looks at me, giving me a soft smirk, and a raise of his eyebrows. He didn’t look uncomfortable, and honestly looked just as thrilled as I did, and I knew that this night had a good chance of going the way I wanted it too. 

“Ah, you’re sweet.” Spencer replies, “But no. I just mean, I’m.. me. You know?” He says, trying to explain his (non-existent) shortcomings, but I just shake my head. 

“You don’t give yourself much credit, you know?” I attempt to say with that amorous tone from before, but it was more overcome with genuine respect and admiration. “You’re smart, funny and nice to be around, I mean.” I pause. “Did you not see the absolute crowd of girls around you after the lecture? Trust me, Spencer. I bet you’re more than easy to be with, even easier to like.” The words rush out of me, and I watch him tentatively for his reaction to my words. 

Instead of the sweet side smile he’d been offering me all night, he finally looked at me. The car had come to a stop at a red light, and his face was dangerously sexy as it was illuminated by the colored glow around us. 

“And what do you think?” Spencer says, in a low tone, making direct eye contact with me. 

I feel my stomach turn at the sudden directness in his words, his gaze nearly devouring me whole. I felt my mouth go dry and I swallow, trying to keep my tone steady. 

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice having a slight shake to it. 

“I mean, what do you think about me? Do you.. like me?” He says, licking his lips slightly, and the action causes the previous heat between my legs to come by in full force. 

“Oh, I mean.” I say, my previous confidence dissipating in an instant. “Well, yes, Dr. Reid. Everyone liked you today.” I say, trying to give more of a conservative answer now.

The man had a way of making me feel totally comfortable around him, and then flipping the switches, rendering me dumb and stuttering. Like I was now. 

“Oh, so I’m Doctor Reid now.” He says, clicking his tongue and saying the words with an air of lighthearted teasing, but I only bit my lip, hurriedly trying to explain myself. 

“I mean, it's your title.” I say, quickly, trying to justify myself. “I mean, you said it yourself- three pHDs. It’d be pretty shitty to just discard the years taken to achieve that. Um. Well. You’re a genius so probably not as long, but still! Calling you doctor is a sign of respect for your accomplishments and-”

“You're cute.” He interrupts, and I look back at him to see his eyes back on the road, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

The light around us turned green, and he started the car. I picked at my nails slightly, trying not to display any more signs of nervousness around him. I wanted to do something with him, at least, and that couldn't happen if I was a bumbling mess.

We drove in relative silence for the next few minutes, as I tried to gather my thoughts and possibly continue what we’d been building up to these past few hours, but a quick glance at the windows and the road we were on caused me to furrow my brows.

“Oh, this isn’t the way to my apartment.” I remark absentmindedly, looking at the window beside me, then in front. “I live near the train station, off east?” I offer, expecting him to fully make a turn back towards the direction I’d prompted him towards, but he didn’t even flinch, continuing on the more secluded road we’d entered.

“I know.” He said, glancing at me once more, actually applying more pressure to the gas pedal, causing us to go faster down the terrain. 

Okay, fuck. He was an FBI agent, so I didn’t have to worry about him murdering me, right? Wait, no, that’s stupid. He could probably get away with it. No! He’s Blake’s friend. Her coworker. For the goddamn FBI. He wouldn’t murder me. What the fuck was going on? 

I watched as Spencer pulled off to the side of the road, darkness surrounding us entirely. There weren't any other cars around, and it was silent in the car before I bit my lip, and started to speak.

“Did I.. offend you?” I ask, cautiously. No reply. I try again. “Why did we stop?” I add, trying to test the waters with him to see what he was thinking at that moment. 

“I thought I could wait before we got to your place, but I need to know now.” He replied, a sudden urgency in his voice. He turned towards me, watching me with a dark, intense gaze, similar to the one he'd given me in class that day. “Do you want me? Am I reading this wrong with you? Because if I am, we can completely forget it and I can drop you home but (Y/N)..” He paused. He made direct eye contact with me and once again I found myself wanting to swim in those dark eyes of his. “I want you.” He said, his voice low and raspy. 

I didn't give it much thought as I gave into my urges and surged towards his lips the best I could in the car. He responded immediately, bringing me closer with his hands and placing them on either side of my face, moving his lips against mine in a perfected rhythm. I used my fingers to quickly undo my belt, before climbing over the console to sit in his lap, getting closer without our lips disconnected once. He understood my actions and intentions immediately, pulling the seat back so I could rest more comfortably in his lap as we continued to kiss. 

I knotted my hands in his hair, giving an experimental tug which elicited a low moan from his mouth. I grinned against his lips and his hands moved from my face to his hips, bringing my clothed core to rest right against his growing bulge, which I immediately moved against. He let out a sharp breath as I did and broke the kiss. 

“Oh god. I’m sorry.” He said, breathlessly, hands on my hips. “I don’t know what came over me and-” 

He looked almost frantic, and incredibly guilty, so I quickly leaned in for a peck, stopping him mid sentence. I brought my hands to his shoulders to rub them soothingly, and he seemed to relax in my touch. 

“Spencer, calm down.” I say, nearly purring. “I want this.” I continue, rubbing patterns into his arms now. “Please.” 

“You’re Blake’s student.” He murmurs, using one of his hands to run through already messy brown curls. “What am I doing?” He says, almost to himself, looking ready to stop our tryst. 

I realize he was attempting to backtrack from this, and before he could continue his train of thought, I quickly leaned in from my position on his lap to start kissing his neck, trailing wet hot kisses down the column before whispering. “I’m not her student.” 

He pulls away to look at me, biting his lip. “What?” 

“I was her student last semester. I’m her teaching assistant now.” I smirk a little, licking my lips. “Technically not a student of hers.” 

He seemed to take in my words for a moment, and then something in him shifted, and he lunged at me again, kissing me with even more ferocity. He absolutely devoured me, his hands everywhere at this point. Caressing my sides, in my hair, on the small of my back. He brought me closer to him in any way he could, pressing our bodies against each other in a frenzied manner that caused the wetness between my legs to increase tenfold. 

“Wanted you.. as soon as I saw you.” He murmurs against my lips as we caught our breath in between kisses. “Knew it was wrong but..” 

I nodded. I understood. I was the same. 

“Fuck.” I moaned, as I felt the bulge resting below me get even harder. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait.” 

“Impatient.” He remarked, smirking, now beginning his own line of kisses down my neck, making me moan in pleasure. 

“Please.” I breathed out, my words being reduced to a squeak as he bit my neck gently, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was melting right in his damn hands, just like he wanted. 

His hands started to work at the buttons on my jeans, and I sighed in relief, lifting up my hips to allow them to be tugged off, leaving me in my underwear. His slender fingers traced the seam, leaving me shuddering with pleasure for the man in front of me. I tried once more, breathlessly murmuring at him.

“Please. Please.” 

“Use your words, baby.” He whispered, a devilish smirk on his face. I was too far-gone to care about what I looked like. I needed him so badly. 

“I need you to fuck me, now.” I say, clearer. “I need it, Spencer.” 

Something about me using his name, nearly moaning for the man when he’d barely touched me stirred something in him, and he started to undo his own slacks, freeing his cock from the confines of his briefs. I watched in fascination as it sprung out, and took in a sharp breath of air. I licked my lips before making eye contact with him, begging for us to get on with it at this point. He nodded, understanding my desperation and I smiled dumbly, beginning to lift my hips. He guided his cock to my heat and placed his free hand on the small of my back, slowly guiding me down his member.

I moaned softly as I felt him enter me, providing me with the most delicious stretch. I threw my head back in pleasure as he brought both his hands to my hips urging me down. 

“That’s it. God, fuck. You feel so good.” He moaned, which only made me want to take more of him. I lowered myself down a bit faster, and he released a heavy groan as his hips met mine. I whimpered slightly, his length filling me up perfectly. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on my brow and I leaned my forehead, adjusting to his size. 

“You good?” He breathed out, using his hand to brush a piece of hair that had stuck itself on my brow, and I nodded. 

“Yeah, just.” I took a deep breath, before licking my lips, looking up before nodding.

I slowly lifted myself off, letting the head of his arousal nestle in me before I slammed back down, eliciting moans from both of us. He began to match my movements in tandem, thrusting up into me wildly. I held onto his shoulders, burying myself in his neck as we went faster. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix every time, causing me to cry out with pleasure every single time. 

I felt my orgasm rapidly approach, and Spencer seemed to sense this as well, considering the involuntary clenches I was giving around his cock. He let his hand slip down to where our bodies met and rubbed tight, fast circles around my clit, encouraging my release. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Come all over my cock. You can do it.” He breathed out, watching my every move with a hunger I'd never experienced before.  

It took a few more thrusts from him, combined with the insistent fingers at my bundle of nerves before my thighs began shaking, and I let out a chorus of moans, most of them sounding like strangled versions of his name as I coated his cock in my wetness, spurring him on to go faster inside me, bucking into me like a man possessed. 

He continued to jut into me wildly, until I felt him finish inside me, coating my walls with his release. He breathed shakily, holding me close to him as I slumped over his shoulder, my chest heaving up and down as I came down from the intensity of the previous moment. 

He affectionately removed me from his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, the tenderness and gentleness in his actions contrary to what we had just done. I pulled back with a dazed smile, taking in how pretty he looked. 

“If it’s alright, I’d love to take you out for coffee sometime.” He said, still a bit breathless, and a shy smile appeared on his face.

I giggled. He was literally still inside me, and was asking me out on a date with a boyish nervousness that made him even harder to resist. 

“For you Dr Reid? Anything.” 

ahh! writing this was a beast, and i imagined it to be longer but i got what i wanted in less words haha. i hope you guys liked this. any reblogs, comments, likes are so so appreciated i know it sounds totally stupid, but your guys' support means a lot lot lot!! thank you!!! <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #smut #spencer reid prompt #writing prompt

[fuckyeahisawthat]

There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

#dune #dune part two #adaptation #paul atreides #fedaykin

[heritageposts]

An Israeli influence campaign is using hundreds of online avatars and fake social media accounts to attack Democratic lawmakers critical of Israel and promote news articles disapproving of the United Nations Palestine refugee agency (Unrwa), according to a report by the Israeli online watchdog, Fake Reporter. According to the report, the targeted campaign has used more than 600 avatars, sending out 58,000 tweets and social media posts to circulate articles published by The Guardian, CNN and Wall Street Journal, among other major news outlets that amplify Israel’s position on the war. The campaign relies on three major social networks, UnFold Magazine, Non-Agenda and The Moral Alliance, which were created prior to the war in Gaza. But the Hamas-led 7 October attack on southern Israel sent the accounts into round-the-clock posting. The sites, according to Fake Reporter, are geared specifically to a “progressive audience”, publishing content on climate change, AI regulation, and human rights, in addition to the war in Gaza. They have more than 43,000 followers across Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. The avatars promoting the content talk up their identity with lines like, “As a middle-aged African American woman” and use hashtags like #FaithJourney and #AfricanAmericanSpirituality.

Some examples from the report:

And continuing,

The avatars were all created on the same day and their profiles were written with the same formula, subbing out just a few words. The declared gender and ethnicity of the avatars don’t match the profile photos, which have been taken from websites selling headshots. The campaign works to amplify news stories published by major media outlets. First, the fake news sites share the reports. Then, the avatars share them across social media, including on the official accounts of Democratic lawmakers. Avatars also shared social media posts showing video clips of what appeared to be Pro-Palestinian protestors calling for "massacres to be normalised" and calling for the US to "go to hell", contrasting that with peaceful protests of pro-Israel protestors.   In other cases, Avatars simply reshared widely published video clips of US lawmakers questioning the heads of Ivy League schools about antisemitism on campus.  [...] According to the report, around 85 percent of all the US politicians targeted by the campaign were Democrats, and 90 percent of them were African Americans. Ritchie Torres, a black Democratic Congressman with generally pro-Israel views, garnered the most social media engagement from the avatars. Other lawmakers targeted included Cori Bush; Lucy McBath; House minority leader Hakeem Jeffries; and Democratic Senator Raphael Warnock. Israeli news site Haaretz reported in January that the Israeli government had launched an online influence campaign to respond to pro-Palestinian content and reports about Hamas.  It’s unclear whether the campaign revealed by Fake Reporter is part of that initiative.

. . . continues at MME (20 Mar 2024)

#free palestine #palestine #israel #gaza #hasbara #bot network #if you're active on twitter you've likely encountered these israeli bot networks already #but note how targeted it is #''around 85 percent of all the US politicians targeted by the campaign were Democrats #and 90 percent of them were African Americans''

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

#Hazbin hotel #Hazbin #Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x gn reader #hazbin x female reader #hazbin x male reader #Adam x reader #adam x gn reader #adam x female reader #adam x male reader #Hazbin hotel Adam #Hazbin Adam #Hazbin hotel Adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x gn reader #Hazbin hotel Adam x female reader #Hazbin hotel Adam x male reader #Hazbin Adam x gn reader #Hazbin Adam x female reader #hazbin adam x male reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort #hurt/comfort #x reader #x male reader

[revasserium]

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

#Anonymous #one piece #one piece live action #opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #x reader #opla #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #one piece fluff #opla fluff #roronoa zoro imagines #roronoa zoro scenarios #floofy floof floof #scheduled post #angst mcgee #and yes after some consideration and that poll #im giving Proper Caps a try LOL #its strange i think it actually changes my voice a lil bit #but i dont think i mind??? #anyway -- any feedback would be much appreciated! <3