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flickering-chandelier · 11 hours

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You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.

Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷

Word Count: 3.8k

The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain.

He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.

Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect.

But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.

He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you.

Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren.

---

Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment.

So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon.

He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.

His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside.

Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.

Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps.

Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”

He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.

“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.

That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”

Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”

You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.

Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?”

Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.

---

The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing.

He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer.

You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river.

The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.

Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.

Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?

Had he ever felt like this?

After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then.

“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.

You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about.

“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight.

“Are you a painter?” he asked.

“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”

Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.

On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought.

You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”

You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.”

“Can I walk you home?”

Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air.

It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”

Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”

You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”

Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”

---

Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet.

Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet.

He waited. And waited.

Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?

He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.”

Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly.

Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”

His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you.

You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”

Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated.

“Dancing,” you grinned.

“I can’t dance.”

“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.”

“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.

“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”

Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”

You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.

By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.

But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music.

He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.

You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”

He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded.

You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.

“There you go,” you grinned.

Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again.

He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his.

Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there.

Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his.

He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air.

Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red.

“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight.

“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face.

The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his.

For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.

At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.

---

Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow.

Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.

But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.

He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.

So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.

There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.

Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway.

The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”

Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”

He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”

Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”

The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.

“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”

He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.

You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.

“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”

There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.”

You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”

Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”

“Jax.”

“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”

You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”

He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”

That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies.

Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining.

---

Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages.

You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations.

“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.

Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints.

You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting.

Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him.

By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel.

You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”

“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.

Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting.

“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.

It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.

“Do you like it?” you said quietly.

“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”

He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you.

You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”

Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public.

---

By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.

Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand.

The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break.

The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars.

Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.

“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.

You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly.

“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.

“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.

“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you.

Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars.

“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.

“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.

#acotar one shot #acotar fic #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #request

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surielstea · 12 hours

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Territorial

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel was busy with work and Reader decided to go out alone, much to the males dismay

4.4k words

"Az?" I call, peeking my head out the doorway. "Azriel?" I sing, padding down the hall when I don't hear him reply. I follow the golden tether connecting us to his office, only half-clothed with my unzipped dress dipping off my shoulders.

"Hey," I spot the male at his desk, eyes scanning over a form. He doesn't spare me a glance but replies with a quiet, "Hi."

"I called for you and you didn't answer," I take a few steps closer, leaning against his desk and holding the neckline of my dress up. "Yeah?" He mumbles as he continues writing, clearly not listening to what I am saying and filling the silence. "Can you help me?" I ask and he freezes, then finally turns to look at me, ears perking at the question. "The corset," I point to the back of my dress. "Ah," He nods but doesn't move from his seat.

Instead of his hands, it's shadows that move to my back, tightening around the strings and then pulling them tight. I frown slightly but don't move as I allow the darkness to tie the strings. When they're done they return to Azriel's side, swishing around like they were trying to get his attention too, but Azriel seemed busy.

We've been staying in the Hewn City for the past few days, Azriel had interrogations to see to, then paperwork, then more interrogations. So it was easier to stay in the Moonstone Palace for the time being.

My mate was busy quite often but he always made time for me, always. So what's so different now? It might've been shallow that I continued to hover at his side, waiting for him to give me some attention.

I watch what he's so intently writing, frowning at the way he didn't even spare me a second glance. "Take a break Az, we could go to the evening markets?" I suggest and it's like the words don't even reach his ears. "Or I could open a bottle of wine and we could cuddle in bed," I add in a light tune, running my hand down his arm.

It takes a few seconds for him to reply, for the words to even register. "Maybe another time," He brushed me off and my frown deepened. "I understand, sorry for bothering you," I grumbled, then left his office and closed the door with a particularly hard force.

I told him I understood, except I didn't. He worked for Rhysand, and of course, the High Lord is still his boss but if Azriel turned in an assignment a few hours late I doubted he'd get reprimanded in the slightest. If he was anyone else it'd be fine, but this is Azriel, the male who always makes time for me and never makes me feel like a burden.

But now I was standing in the hallway alone, and a little defeated.

I curse myself for being so sensitive and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. I open the door down to the wine cellar but before I can take the descent to the basement I realize I didn't want to drink alone. I sigh, closing the door.

It wasn't that I needed Azriel to be able to enjoy myself but he's got in my head, and now he's all I want.

I decided to pass the time by going to the evening markets on my own, he couldn't be mad at me for doing it by myself when I'd already offered to include him, right?

I scribbled down on a note that I was leaving and signed it with a heart before leaving through the front door without so much as a proper goodbye.

The evening markets were much different in the Hewn City than the ones in Velaris. Every vendor seemed to be trying to con or scam me.

I came across a cart, a skinny pale woman with thinning black hair stood behind the counter with dead eyes. I notice a young pair of twins huddling beside her long, ripped skirt.

She was selling gemstones. They were all fake, you could tell by the way they gleamed under the moonlight but that didn't make them any less beautiful. A specific blue stone caught my attention. I smile softly at the woman and give her my entire pouch of gold marks, enough for a month's worth of food if spent right. She begins shuffling through the coins and only takes what's owed out as I pluck the sapphire up.

"No, keep all of it," I brush her off with a wave of my hand. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. I give her a kind smile. "Get them something nice," I gesture to the two girls the height of her waist. "Thank you," She bleats out and I nod with a gentle smile, pocketing the gem before waltzing away with a small pep in my step.

I come across another stand, this one with aisles of flowers leading towards the shopkeeper. I smile as I gaze at a bush of jasmine, the scent reminding me of Amren. I continue walking down the aisle, spotting moonflowers as big as my palm, and bouquets of chocolate daisies that somehow smelt like the enriching cocoa flavor I was so familiar with.

The clerk seemed busy so I didn't buy anything, just continued to walk until there was a snag at my skirt. My brows twitch and I look down to see one of the twin girls from earlier fisting the cloth in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just holds out a white rose. "For me?" I smile gently and she nods shyly.

I bend down and take the flower, breaking off all the thorns before reaching towards her and tucking the rose behind her ear. "There, beautiful," I compliment and she flushes pink. "Thank you," She whispers and my smile widens. "Thank you, too," I say, standing. She stared up at me in wonder. "Why don't you go snatch one for your sister as well?" I suggest and she nods before scurrying off back toward the flower market.

I turn on my heel, walking with my skirts in my hands as I continue my route down the dimly lit path, shops slowly dwindling away and mage lights flickering the further down the alley I go.

I grip the material of my skirt in my hands at the shift in the atmosphere, my steps speeding up, eager to get out of the eerie ambiance.

Hyena-like laughter echoes down the stretch of the brick road and my entire body tenses. I looked to where the sound had come from, three men sat on upside-down trashcans all talking amongst each other with shit-eating grins. It was rude to assume they were of any danger to me, but I was better off paranoid than ignorant.

I reach through my mental bond towards Azriel only to be met with unbreakable, obsidian walls. I frown, flattening my palms to the cold rock but it was entirely solid and I was locked out. I huff and thrust my own shields up, blocking him out too. Instead of passing by the three men, I step into the building at my left, a bar.

I enter the tavern with a slight panic in my step. I hadn't realized how safe Azriel made me feel until I no longer had his company.

The place was packed, every night in the Hewn City was a night for a drink, there were crowds but it was eerily quiet and I had eyes from every direction staring at me. I ignored the eyes and tried not to catch anyone's gaze as I walked towards the bar top, settling into an empty stool with torn leather that creaked when I put my weight on it.

A bartender immediately comes over to me and I order something light, only planning to pass the time here until I think Azriel learned his lesson and noticed that I didn't need him to have a good time. It was petty and something he probably already knew but I had to solidify that fact.

"What's a girl like you doing all the way out here?" A gravelly voice asked and I turned to the male beside me, his long, graying beard thick with what looked like food sprinkled throughout it. I fight back a grimace.

"A girl like me?" I arch a brow, not interested in telling him where I'm from. "Sure, the fancy clothes, shiny hair," He utters. "I bet that bracelet on your wrist costs more than my house," He scoffs. I look down at the bejeweled bracelet that I wear at a constant. "Well? How much?" He asks and I shrug. "It was a gift from my mate," I utter, not knowing the exact price— but with the amount of diamonds glinting on the piece of jewelry, the stranger wouldn't be far off with the estimate of his house.

"Mate?" He grunts and I nod. "Why aren't you with him now?" He demands, sticking his nose into my business. I nearly roll my eyes. What does it matter to him anyway? "He's working," I swing my legs back and forth. "And what's this male do for a livin' to be able to afford gifts like that?" He gestures to my wrist. "He's the Spymaster of the Night Court," I say, the male gulps down whatever fear bubbled up inside him at the title.

The bartender hands me my drink and I thank him with a gentle smile.

The stranger next to me turns away from me, instead going towards whatever poor girl is on the other side of him as I silently sip my sweet drink, swinging my legs back and forth as I gaze up at the ceiling, running my eyes along the cracks and crevices, attempting to think the way Azriel does, how he notices every single thing, analyzes every movement, every breath. I wish I could observe things like him, read him the way he reads me. I huff in defeat after growing bored from one minute of observing, instead sinking into my stool.

A few males throughout the night approach me but I tell them who my mate is and they immediately back off. I liked the idea of Azriel being so feared in places like this, how he had me blocked from his side of the bond and yet was still protecting me from every male who engaged.

There was a slight commotion behind me, mumbles and synchronized footsteps like everyone was rushing out of someone's way. I ignore it, keeping my eyes pinned to my half-full glass, debating on finishing it or just going home and cuddling up with a book, perhaps Azriel is done with work.

There's a sudden presence behind me, one that's vaguely familiar but nothing too keen. A hand comes down onto my shoulder and my spine straightens at the familarity. "For the last time, I have a mate—" I begin but then I feel shadows twining up my ankles, the scars on his hand, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know," He started and I whipped around, wrapping my arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Az," I greet, and even if I was just annoyed with him, it felt refreshing to have his eyes on me again. "I just had the most wonderful evening," I say as he intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me from my stool. I follow, forgetting about my drink while Azriel pays the bartender with a bill too large for what I ordered.

"I wish you had come with," I say as he pulls me through the crowd, well it wasn't much of a crowd anymore, his wings gave him a large enough frame that groups had simply split in half to accommodate for him, me in tow as he guides me through the path.

"And I went to the markets and bought this pretty gem," I pull out the blue sapphire. "Remind me of your siphons, don't you think?" I hold it up in the moonlight. He looked at it and gave a dip of his head, his mind still reeling as he pulled me away from the alleyway while I continued blathering on. "And there were these twin girls who were so adorable, and later one of them gave me a flower—" I was cut off as I was completely consumed by a familiar darkness, Azriel's hand tightening on mine as he pulled us through the shadow realm, the real world seeming so bright in comparison.

"Az," I pause, looking around at our house as we land, standing in the center of our bedroom. Not in the Hewn City, but Velaris. He had taken us all the way home. "What are we doing here? Did you finish your assignments?" I say, striding up to him and realizing only now that he had yet to say anything this entire time since the bar, I've just been prattling on about my evening while he only nodded, which was typical but, it felt different, there was something cold about him.

"Azriel? You okay?" I reach up towards his face but he catches my wrist before I can make contact. "Do you know how worried I was about you?" His tone is warm but there's a certain deathly flicker in his eyes that sent a chilling shiver down my spine. "There was nothing to be worried about," I mutter, pulling at my wrist but his hold doesn't yield. "You believe that?" He arches a brow but I was too undermined to nod.

"Love," He sighs, his hold loosens and I'm met with relief. "Do you know how many people in that court want me dead?" He tilts his head and I swallow thickly, I hated thinking about stuff like that and he knew it. "How many people want to hurt me the way I've hurt them?" He adds and all I can do is shake my head no.

"I need you to understand the only way to hurt me is by hurting you, make sense?" His hand comes to my cheek, angling my head to look up at him. I meet his stare and nod bashfully.

"I do understand, but, I’m fine," I argue. "I can handle myself, I promise I was safe," I stress and his gaze hardens yet again, now I've done it.

"I know you can handle yourself, but, just let me protect you," He sighs. "Why? I don't need your protection— in fact, you had me blocked out all night, so if I did need you, you wouldn't have even been able to save me," I express and he bristles. I shouldn't have said it, I know it'd hit him where it hurt but, gods, I was so sick of feeling so dependent, like I relied on him every waking hour since we mated.

Azriel never shouted, barely ever raised his voice. But when he did, he was a different male. Animalistic and feral, and entirely uncaged. Some sick part of me found it insanely attractive. His power was so immense I couldn't help but let it turn me on, shadows flooding the room as a vein bulged at his neck as he explained why I need to be more careful when on my own, but I was barely listening to his words, just his voice, his passion. The spine-shivering tone reaches the wrong parts of my body and leaves me clenching my legs, staring up at him helplessly as the smell of my arousal becomes apparent and he shutters, his words halting as he stares at me.

"Are you fucking serious?" He scoffs and I look down at the floor with a bright flush, attempting to hide what's already known. He takes a menacing step closer, hand coming to my chin and tilting my face up dauntingly slow, I avoid his gaze. "Look at me," He snaps and I do as he says immediately, eyes staring up into his, that familiar hazel analyzing every part of me like it always did. "You like it when I yell at you?" He asked and I swallowed thickly. "Answer me, love," He says, hand tightening on my jaw and I nod with creased brows. "Yes," I confess and I could already tell my panties were a mess.

"You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?" He tilts his head and my pussy throbs in anticipation at the promise of discipline. Again, I nod. "Yeah? On your knees then," He commands and I waste no time before dropping onto the floor before him, staring up at him with shiny, wide eyes. "Open," He says and I part my lips, tongue lulling out. Two of his fingers immediately plunge down my throat while his other hand works at the ties of his pants. I move my own hands up, attempting to offer assistance but shadows are quick to twine around my wrists and pin them useless behind my back.

I close my lips around his hand, sucking on the two long, thick, and calloused fingers. I dip my tongue between them, coating them in my saliva as he curls them into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag on them, loving the sight of my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

He gets his pants down and his cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-cum, his tip red and angry. I whimpered at the sight of it as he removed his fingers from my mouth, using my saliva to further lube himself for easier entrance. He strokes himself once, then another. "Please," I rasp out, needy for his cock. He knew just how badly I needed him inside of me.

He continues pumping his cock just in front of my lips, groaning out at the intense feeling of his hand. "Open," He repeats and again, I obey. The head of his cock slaps onto the flat of my tongue and I nearly moan at the salty taste of him, tears brimming the edge of my eyes as I run my tongue up and down the underside of his member, tracing the bulging vein.

I pulled at the restraints on my hands, whining in need of more as I suck on the head of him, swirling my tongue around his tip and pressing my tongue to the sensitive slit as he grunted in pleasure.

His hand finds the back of my head, gripping my hair roughly as moans slip from me. "Three taps, remember?" He asks and I nod urgently, remembering the safe code in case he went too far, but I knew I wouldn't be using that any time tonight.

He then thrust all of his length down my throat and I gagged on him, adjusting to his size of him was impossible as he continued to abuse my mouth, tears now free-falling onto my cheeks as his other hand found my neck, squeezing occasionally when I choked on him.

I struggled to breathe as he continued to pummel into my parted lips, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy as I sucked on him hard, bobbing my head. "Gods, you suck me off so good," He praised and I rub my thighs together for any form of friction but nothing could compare to his cock. I seal my lips around his base, jerking my head as I swirl my tongue underneath his cock, drinking every drop of his pre-cum, savoring the taste and eager for more but as he twitches he pulls away from my mouth, keeping himself from crossing that fine line of release. I cry out a whine, wanting the salty taste of him on my tongue now.

"Please, Az," I sob but he ignores the whine. "Get up, on the bed," He nodded his head toward the mattress as I rose from my knees, my wrists unbinding and allowing me to crawl up towards the pillows with shaky limbs. I go to turn around to face him but he stuffs my face into the pillow before I get the chance. My back bows as I struggle to breathe and his hold ceases, allowing me to lift only slightly from the bed. His hands come to the curve of my ass, my dress pushed up by shadows. He doesn't even bother with the ties of my corset and instead tears me free from the material, shredding the gown into pieces and discarding it onto the floor. I whimper as my panties follow without any other foreplay, the cold air breezing against my soaked cunt.

"Count five then I'll let you have what you want, okay?" His hands grope at my ass and I rise onto my elbows, my back arching up into his as he leans over me. I nod with a needy moan, reveling in the feeling of his scars on my skin.

His hand rises then comes down onto my ass, a loud smacking sound filling the room, my mewls quickly following. "One," I gripe, clenching the sheets in my fists as he gives me the second one, harder, the sting lingering and sending shockwaves up my spine. I stuff my face into the pillows as I call the number, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.

His third strike is joined with a cold shadow brushing against the apex of my thighs and I scream at the friction, the neglecting had grown so strong that I could feel myself dripping down my thighs, sopping wet for him. On the fourth smack, the shadows return, this time to stay, swirling around that familiar bundle of nerves and all thoughts leave me, completely consumed by the pleasure of it all. "What number was that?" He purrs beside my ear and I shutter. "Fuck— I, I don't know," I whine. "Oh c'mon, think hard you can do it," He directs, trailing kisses up the side of my ear but it was impossible to think about anything but those damned shadows circling my clit.

"Four," I reply with a hopeful lift to my voice. "Good, such a good girl," He hums, kissing just below my ear before landing one final slap to my ass, the skin red and stinging in pure pain, and I doubt I had ever been more turned on.

"You want me inside baby?" He asked with barely anytime for me to recover, biting at my earlobe as I cry out my reply, "Shit, Az please."

I feel the head of his cock press against my folds a beat later, lathering himself in my fluids as I clench around nothing, legs jolting as I arch up higher for easier entrance, showing just how much I wanted him.

His tip aligns with my entrance and I beg for him, for every inch of him. "Need you, please," My voice shakes and he rises from behind me, his hands coming down onto my thighs, gripping them tightly. Shadows pin my legs to the bed, restricting me from moving as his tip enters me only slightly. "Don't move," He commanded and I nodded, then he thrust all of him inside of me and I felt like I split in half.

I screamed, clawing at the sheets at the intense pain yet pleasure that quickly followed. My brows knot as his base slaps against mine and without much adjustment he begins to pound his length into me, pulling strings of moans from the base of my throat. "Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock," He sighed out, head tilting back in pure relief, continuing to pummel into me with an unrelenting force.

"You ever g'na leave without me again?" He asks in a cold voice and I shake my head no. "Use your words," He tells, and my back bows at the tone of his voice, so fucking demanding. "No, never Az," I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's right, 'cause who do you belong to?" He asks, his lips on my neck. "You, all yours," I manage to say, words not coming easy as I was too distracted by the feeling of him thrusting up to what felt like my ribs. I moan his name loudly, head hanging low into the pillows as I arch, pushing further onto his cock, his tight balls slapping against my folds while he twitches against my sensitive walls, shadows coming to contact with my clit and doubling the amount of pleasure.

"Az I can't, I can't take any more," I rasp out as he places sloppy kisses on my shoulder, biting and sucking and licking on any bare skin he could get his mouth on. "You will though, won't you?" He said and I couldn't help but agree with him, knowing it'd feel close to death if he pulled out now.

The tip of his cock brushed over my most sensitive area and I shout in euphoric pain. He smirks against my skin and continues to toy with the area, easily hitting that deep place inside of me, molding me to him, stretching my walls to fit his cock and his alone.

Marking me like territory.

"Az, I'm gonna cum— I can't," I struggle to breathe at how tight my lungs felt, the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to snap any second now. "Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my cock," He allows and his shadows pinch my clit, forcing me into that orgasmic high.

Warmth blooms in my hips as I find release, tears falling down onto the pillows as my legs shake in pure relief, pleasure racking through me like a wave of ecstasy.

His release followed mine, as I clenched around him from my high it forced him into spilling out his warm seed into my cunt, painting my walls white and making me his entirely. "Fuck," He grunts out. "You did good baby," He whispered softly, pecking my tear-stained cheek while slowly pulling out, his cum flowing out of me and down my thighs as I slump down onto the bed, exhausted.

"No sleeping yet, I won't be able to live with myself if you don't get proper aftercare," He ushered me out of the bed as I sat up with a whine. He smiles softly then picks me up, carrying me princess-style towards the bathroom. I marvel at how easily he switched personalities, shifting between Azriel and the Spymaster so easily.

"Alright pretty girl, let's get you cleaned up."

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wildandsmile · 3 days

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commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much

Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you

Total Wc. 1.1k

Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare

An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah

Rin

He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.

But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.

There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.

Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.

And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck

You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, and you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."

Sae

He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.

You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.

But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And after how wet you get just for his fangs

He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.

He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.

"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look at pet look at you getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itch the tip of your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”

Kunigami (Wild Card)

• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.

• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.

• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.

• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.

• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."

Nagi

Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game

• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.

• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.

• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.

• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.

"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and does a long lap across your leg before biting you and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."

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splatoongamefiles · 22 hours

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Could we get some refs of the hero gear (base, armor upgrades, and space) and the fuzzy octolings gear? Also I think the fuzzy octolings have different pants that the players can't wear?

Also I've heard that the deep sea metro pants are in the game for the octoling amiibos and that there are unused masc/fem versions of the skirt and pants and I was wondering how different they look compared to the amiibo (not as prioritised as my want for story mode gear refs so you don't have to find these if you don't wanna!)

ough this was a lot of work so i actually wrote a script in blender to automatically do some of the dumb material stuff so it's easier for me to do this in the future!

also i completely forgot about the pants! so it's a bit lower quaality than the rest sorry

so quickly before i go to bed:

neo 3 has a pair of sweatpants, captain 3 has really ripped up pants.

The fuzzy octolings do have a unique pair of pants, along with a male version we never see in game i dont think

and there are unused masc and fem variations of all the agent 8 pants/skirts, and i think the amiibos just use 2 of these, i cant find any other pants with this

the masc versions are the same just a bit slimmer around the butt.

#ask #Anonymous #splatoon #game rip #splatoon 3 #request #models #return of the mammalians

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jolenes-doppelganger · 2 days

Text

Desert Storm

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader NSFW

Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16

Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning

A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).

Word Count: 4.4k of filth

The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.

“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.

“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.

The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes.

“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.

Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.

“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”

Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.

“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”

You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group.

“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica.

It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.

“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.

“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.

“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”

“Mom!!!” Alia cried.

You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often.

“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.

“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.

Jessica extended her hand.

“Feel.”

You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*

“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.

“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.”

Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.

“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”

The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.

“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”

Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.

“With who?”

“Well, your son.” you admitted.

Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.

“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.”

You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.

“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.

Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.

“Stop.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.

“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”

Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.

“Come here.”

You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you.

“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”

You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?

“I am Feydakin.”

“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety.

Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.

“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.

“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.”

You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.

“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?”

Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.

“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”

She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.

“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”

It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.

“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.

“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”

“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.

You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying.

“No.”

“You don’t understand, I need-”

“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”

It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.

“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”

“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.

Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.

“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”

The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.

“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.”

Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.

Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.

“Your hair is covered in sand.”

“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.

Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.

“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.

Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.

“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You can’t clean things in the desert.”

“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”

The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.

“Come. It is time to rest.”

“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”

“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”

Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.

“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.

“And you smell like sweat.”

Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.

“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.

“Yes.” you murmured.

“Good, that’s good.”

It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.

“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.

This rest, you would not.

<->

“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.

She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.

“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.

“Hmm?” you frowned.

“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”

She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.

“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.

You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.

“Oh.” you winced.

“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.

Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.

“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”

She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.

“You let her do that?” you frowned.

“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”

The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes.

“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common.

Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.

“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.

“I had a lot to think about.”

You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.

“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”

“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.

“Nabiya?”

“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.

“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.

“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”

“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”

“Paul is my chosen-”

“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”

There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.

“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”

“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”

Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.

“Come, lie on the bed with me.”

You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.

“There will be another. One for you to love.”

“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”

Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.

“He has found another.”

All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug.

“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.

You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.

“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”

Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.

“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”

A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.

“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”

Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.

“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.

She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.

“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”

“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.

Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.

“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”

You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks.

“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”

Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”

Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.

“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.

You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.

“Again.” Jessica pleaded.

You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.

“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”

The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue.

“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”

There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.

“Oh… The things we will be…”

#rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson x you #wlw #rebecca ferguson #dune #lady jessica #reverend mother jessica #reverend mother jessica x reader #reverend mother jessica x you #lady jessica x reader #lady jessica x you #spice #and everything nice #request

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daily-mc-block · 1 day

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Black Glazed Terracotta

#minecraft #request #black glazed terracotta

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futuristicson · 2 days

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I think you look absolutely stunning and I can't believe you don't think you do.

#leo x piper #piper x leo #leo wyatt #piper halliwell #charmed #charmededit #mine #5x10 #Y Tu Mummy También #request

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pastadoughie · 2 hours

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hi can you pls draw a lil calico kitty because i am one and i would love to see it in ur style

does my boy ashton mean nothing 2 u

#art #mspaint #my art #rowens liddol guys #ask #asks #anon #anonymous #req #requests #reqs #request

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jopzer · 21 hours

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oooo could we get a s3 jamie in his england national team kit???

sorry this took. checks watch. two and a half months. also sorry i got distracted by ass.

#ask #request #my art #jamie tartt #ted lasso #samjamie #if you believe.#sorry if you wanted to see him from the front im emotionally attached to the 24 #if you are familiar with me on discord. you will know this is truw. attached to that mf picture

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daily-basil · 1 day

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Basil going against Boyfriend from Friday Night Funkin' bc i thought it be funny

This shall be legendary ‼‼‼

it couldve been this but i didn't like the vibe

#i went from drawing pretty boy in skirt to angry menace today #teehee #good luck on your essay mod snuuy i hope you nailed it #omori #daily basil #art #drawing #omori basil #digital #basil #basil omori #request #fnf #friday night funkin #fnf boyfriend #epic rap battle!!

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rainylana · 6 hours

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“I don’t like the way I look.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

requested by anonymous

summary: your insecurities of your postpartum body finally come out.

warnings: postpartum, insecurities about the readers body, lots of tears, language, angst, eddie cries. i’m not a mother nor have i ever been pregnant, so i hope i did this justice.

You were one of those people who were extremely confident in their looks. You knew you were hot. You had hair girls were jealous of, and a figure, too. You had beautiful green eyes that looked gold in the sun. Pale skin that made your jaw line sharp and features prominent.

Eddie liked having you that way. He loved your confidence and everything about you. However the day you had your baby, it all changed. The nine months of pregnancy went by smoothly. You’d obviously put on an enormous amount of baby weight, but you had assumed you’d drop it once the baby was born. You weren’t, and no matter how little food you ate or how much exercise you did, you couldn’t get it off. Besides, you didn’t have time to really put in the work for dieting, not healthily, anyways. Not with a baby.

You loved your daughter. There was no question in that, but you couldn’t admit it to yourself, or anyone, that you now hated how you looked. You had a pouch in your belly that you’d never had before, the skin on your sides had turned to love handles, your legs still stolen. You cried yourself to sleep so many times during the night, watching your daughter sleep. Little Patricia Munson. Patty.

You were good at hiding it. Eddie had no suspicion of your struggles. Nobody did. Only you and the mirror.

Motherhood suited you. To Eddie and your friends, you were glowing. You were so good with your baby. You knew how to get her to calm down, to sleep peacefully through the night. Having a child was a new kind of love you never thought one person was capable of feeling. Eddie loved watching you with her, the way you held her and sang to her. He was absolutely mesmerized when you breastfed her.

You looked like you could do it all with a crown on top of your head, and nobody knew just how badly you were feeling.

Tonight was a particularly bad night and you had no idea why. You were sat in the rocking chair of Patty’s nursery, holding her in your arms and softly patting her. She’d been asleep for quiet some time, but you weren’t ready to put her down. It was almost one in the morning, and you knew Eddie would wake up soon and wonder where you were.

The room was dark, besides the Winnie the Pooh nightlight that illuminated an orange glow around the room, plastic stars stuck up on the ceiling for extra light.

You were humming lightly, your finger sweeping over her swirl of dark hair. She was only seven weeks old, and every day she looked more and more like Eddie. You didn’t think it was exactly fair, considering you were the one who carried her for nine months, but you couldn’t deny how cute it was having a mini Eddie in your arms.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your voice breaking mid hum at the disapproving picture you received. Your face used to be so slim. And though it hadn’t changed dramatically as the rest of your body, you missed it what everything used to look like. You knew you should love your body, considering what it did to make little Patty, but you feared what Eddie thought of you now.

Sex with him hadn’t faltered or was forgotten. On the contrary. It had done nothing but flourish since you had your baby, but have the time you had to force yourself to cum, thinking nothing about the pleasure and only if he was judging you the way you judged yourself.

Soon enough, you heard the bed squeak in the other room and his feet hit the floor. You sniffled, wiping your stray tear quickly before he could find you.

His head of dark curls, white shirt and boxers decorating his body came wondering in the room, smiling sleepily when he quietly came over to you. You smiled up at him, puckering your lips for a kiss. He kissed you, then bent down to give his baby girl a soft kiss on the forehead. He tapped her little nose and grinned, chuckling softly.

You knew what he was thinking. I can’t believe she’s mine. You smiled, too.

He stifled a yawn and brought over the other rocking chair and sat in front of you, leaning back so he could get comfortable. “I’ll sit with her for awhile, darlin’. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“No.” You shook your head, smiling at him briefly. “I can’t sleep, anyways.”

Eddie thought this was when you were the most beautiful, holding his baby. You were both his babies. “I can’t believe she’s ours sometimes.” He admitted tiredly, trying to wake himself up. “I never thought I could love someone so small so much.”

“I know.” You nodded. “It’s scary sometimes.”

It was. Loving someone so much. You knew your life would be over if anything were to ever happen to her.

“I’d do anything for her.” Eddie said, his curls a pillow between his head and the wood of the rocking chair as he lay back comfortably watching the two of you.

“I know.” You said once again, full of emotion. You didn’t want to cry, but hearing Eddie talk about how much he loved her got you emotional, especially because you wondered if he loved you as much as he used to. “Me too.” A lone tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek and dropping onto your bare knee. It was so quick you hoped he hadn’t noticed it. You were wrong.

“Hey,” Eddie perked up. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” You sighed heavily. “I’m alright.”

“But you’re cryin’, angel.” He frowned, sitting up in his seat to lean over closer. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You gave a firm nod, but your voice broke, betraying what you had just said.

He gave you a look before glancing down at your daughter. “I think you’re tired, honey. Why don’t you-”

“I’m not tired.” You said firmly, looking up to him with glassy eyes. “I just want to be alone.”

He chalked it up to your hormones being out of control and nodded, offering a quiet ‘alright’ as he shut the nursery door behind him. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a hushed sob, bringing Patty closer to your chest. You laid your head against her’s, giving her a crying kiss. She barely even stirred.

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were, because Eddie was back within seconds, coming to squat down beside you and gently take the baby from your arms. He shushed her softly and placed her down in her crib before turning back to find you missing.

He found you outside on the porch, sobbing like you had a broken heart, arms crossed and holding your body like you’d break at any second. It was starting to sprinkle, but you didn’t care. You knew if you woke up Patty this late it would take you forever to get her back to sleep.

“Baby,” Eddie said sadly, coming up behind you. “What’s got you so upset?” He didn’t touch you, a hand only ghosting the fabric that covered your back.

“I’m fine.” You said through sobs, the air cold and bitter against your skin. You only had on a long t-shirt, but the trailer court had all turned in for the night. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not without you.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, wishing he could leave your pity party for you and you only. He wouldn’t understand how you were feeling, and worst off, maybe your fears were true. You didn’t want to know the truth. Did he still find you attractive? Did he still enjoy sex? Did he still love you as much even though you weren’t skinny?

“Eddie, please,” You turned around, tears running down your face, red and blotchy. “Go back to bed.”

He stared at you, frowning and brows knitted in concern. “You know I can’t do that. We made a promise, remember?”

Damn it. He always threw down that card.

After vecna, you both were broken shells of what you once used to be. Everyone was. You made him promise you he wouldn’t shut down. He had to talk when his heart was aching, and in return, you promised the same. You promised to talk when your heart ached, and right now, it was.

You sighed, nodding softly. You did remember, but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about. You quickly turned around to hide your fresh set of tears, biting your tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It might make you feel better.” He moved to stand directly beside you, leaning against the wood railing that was growing damp from the light rain. “Please, honey. Talk to me.”

You sniffled and looked away from his stare. “I’m scared of what you’ll say. I don’t know if I want the answer.”

“Answer to what?” He said confused. “Baby- just tell me, okay? I promise whatever it is, it’ll work itself out.”

But would it? Would you ever be as beautiful as you used to be? Would you ever be skinny, never have to worry about what you ate? That’s all you thought of now, worrying about what you put in your mouth. You were petrified of gaining more weight.

“I don’t like the way I look.” You finally said crying, looking over at him. “There, okay? I don’t like the way I look. I look in the mirror and I’m just disgusted with what I see.”

His eyes were wide. You had shocked him. His brows were creased and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I love Patty.” You sobbed. “But I hate what being pregnant did to me and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. I’m not beautiful anymore and I miss it.” Your voice broke deeply, crackling like tv static that couldn’t get a proper signal. “I don’t feel pretty for you and I’m scared that you think it too.”

“Okay, wait,” He’d heard enough, speaking quickly as he straightened himself taller. “I don’t- y/n, you’re talkin’ crazy.”

“Am I?” You retorted. “Because the mirror doesn’t lie, Eddie.” You stood your ground. You were right and Eddie wasn’t going to sweet talk you out of the truth. Facts were facts. “I’m not beautiful anymore and you know it. Stop lying to me!”

“Y/n, what the hell-” He backed away. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I’ve never said anything like that to you ever. Where is all of this coming from?” He shook his head in absolute disbelief, trying to be calm and rational to understand where you were coming from. A part of him wondered if it was just a hormonal, postpartum outburst, but your tears and attitude told him otherwise.

“You didn’t!” You snapped. “But you don’t have to. I know. I look at myself in the mirror every day and wonder if you’re attracted to me anymore. I don’t look like how I used to.” You were bawling, snot leaking from your nose and eyes bloodshot red. Your hair was starting to get wet from the rain.

“Why the fuck does that matter?” Eddie argued back, his sense of cool becoming too hard to handle. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk so negatively about yourself. “You are you and it doesn’t matter what you look like. You just had a baby, sweetheart. You’re obviously not going to loose all the weight overnight. You’re being too hard on yourself.” He tried to speak soothingly to calm your cries, his hands holding your elbows, head dipping down like he was speaking to a child.

“And even if you don’t,” He continued. “I’m going to love you just the way you are because you’re the mother of my child.” His hands went up to your shoulders. “You gave me the greatest gift of my life, darlin’,” To your surprise, his eyes teared up.

“Please,” He pulled you in to hold you. “Don’t think like that, baby, please. I can’t bear to hear you talk like that.” His voice broke, a guilt sinking into your heart that made you feel foolish.

“I’m sorry.” You rushed, wrapping your hands around his back. “I’m sorry.” You found yourself saying, desperate to keep him from crying.

You realized then, how wrong you were. Because if he thought the things you thought of yourself, he wouldn’t be out here in the rain with you, holding you close, crying, over what you had said. You realized then, just how much he loved you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #angst #request

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