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#fathers maddening love
cloneslugs · 9 months
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god i really only remembered it & clicked it together when writing that but . rusty really refuses to help brisby w cloning . he turns down a lot of money & opportunity to help brisby w cloning, and this is before the clone thing is revealed & its all just chalked up to his father's research at that point but its really soooooooooo . they're his life work, and it's all just for his boys, its just to keep them alive & around & to let them live when theyre stuck in this life of constant danger and screw ups that rusty didnt want & when he's such a failure he cant even keep them alive so many times that they haunt his mind . its not his failure as a scientist that haunts him, its his failure as a father & how he can acknowledge his father as a brilliant scientist but a terrible father . but what is he bc he's doing what any father would do isnt he? wouldnt you do anything to bring them back? and you succeed in that but youre also haunted by the fact that youve let them die so many times & thats not a successful thing thats also failure .
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started post- sb you know what that means!! [insert repetitive & flawed 5 hour rant about the depiction of parents in ffxiv here]
#listen. listen.#the variety?#maddening#the thing fordola fights for in stormblood is the thing her father told her right before he died. she believes theres no other way#she believes the only way to freedom is through following the empire because thats what her father believed!#and she never learned otherwise because her father was fucking murdered!! she didnt trust anyone to tell her differently!!#hate it when people who come from stable households reduce parenting to loving + good and not loving + bad.#parents are also flawed human beings!! they fuck up!! their love isnt always a good thing!!#we are not exclusively a product of how we were raised but it does affect you. especially when youre younger and dont have the experience#outside of your family to fall back on. (at least thats what i assume im still in the young category)#parents can love their kids and still fuck up royally. parents can not care for their kids but still raise them right.#my mom loves me! she also gave me three separate mental disorders and refuses to accept my autism!#people keep asking why i refuse to get angry at ANYTHING out loud and its. its my mom. she made me like this#she made me afraid of speaking up or talking back to authority figures because shes a flawed person!#am i still gonna cut her off once im out of the house? YEAH. shes traumatised the living shit out of me! OUT OF LOVE.#are there parents who love their kids AND are good parents. probably. are there parents who hate their kids and abuse them. again. probably#but that doesnt cover every parent. those two separate ends of a whole damn spectrum#hhhghhg#its late im getting incoherent
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reverieblondie · 1 month
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Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?
I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!
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Halsin 
Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.
Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…
Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier. 
He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out. 
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Zevlor
Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…
Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.  
 It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later… 
“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss. 
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Wyll
Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…    
You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.  
Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”   
It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most. 
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Rolan
Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold. 
You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…” 
Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.  
It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.  
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Gale 
You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.    
It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.   
You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…   
The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him? 
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Astarion
With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…
Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do. 
You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him. 
Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…
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How You Turn My World; Chapter 1
Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.
Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola
Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot
Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none
Word Count; 4.6 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~
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Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.
Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child. 
“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.
Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.
Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.
What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.
Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.  
The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.
“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.
You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.
“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.
Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.
“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.
Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.
“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”
He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine. 
The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.
“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.
After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open. 
Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.
Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.
You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.
By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.
You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word. 
“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”
Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.
The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.
The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.
“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”
Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.
Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.
The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”
Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.
With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.
“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.
...
By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.
Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.
You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.
But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.
… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.
Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.
| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?
And almost immediately, Ace replied.
| Ginger, derogatory | depends  | ya got fiid?
Deuce responded shortly after.
| Mama’s Boi | Yeah, I’m down | What time? | . . . | And what’s fiid?
|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?
| Ginger, derogatory | IT WAS A TYOP | *TYPO | I MEANT FOOD | F O O D
| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me
| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?
| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me
| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!
That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.
Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.
“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”
Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”
He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend? 
“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.
Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.
He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.” 
You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”
Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.
“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”
Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.
Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.
You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.
Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.
You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”
Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies. 
“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”
You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”
Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”
Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”
You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up. 
Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!
You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.
“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison. 
You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.
You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.
But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.
The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.
Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…
Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.
“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.
You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.
You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place. 
All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.
Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.
When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?
He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.
And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!
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Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.
If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.
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syrma-sensei · 8 months
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pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: fluff, implied smut.
warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....
word count: 2.4k
summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.
tagging: @zepskies
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.
Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.
He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.
But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.
The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.
It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.
In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.
Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.
Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.
Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.
“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”
Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”
She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.
He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.
“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.
“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.
She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.
“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.
She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.
She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”
Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”
“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”
“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”
Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.
Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.
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Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.
He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.
Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.
Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.
Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.
“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.
His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.
“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”
Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.
Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.
“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”
She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.
Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”
Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.
He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”
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knownoking · 11 months
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i actually hate talisa maegyr. i think her whole plot with robb was so stupid. like in the books robb’s marriage with jeyne is this tragic situation that’s really a culmination of the stress and grief that robb has been going through and unable to truly process because he is a child trying to lead his people in a war. he gets injured and then learns that his former best friend has just betrayed him, captured his home, and killed both of his younger brothers which adds to growing list of loss in his life. his father got executed, his sisters are being held hostage, his best friend betrayed him, and now his brothers are dead. so while he’s injured and kind of being consumed by his grief, jeyne westerling is there to comfort him and they do the deed and this only makes things worse because of how robb was raised and instilled with his father’s honor, as well as seeing how jon was raised, robb feels compelled to marry jeyne to preserve HER honor which ends up being his downfall. but nooooo in the show robb falls in love with foreign beauty talisa maegyr and dies because he’s an idiot and couldn’t keep it in his pants. like don’t get me wrong i love robb’s scenes in the show richard madden call me i just think the story could have been so much better and been true to the tragedy that it is in the books.
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thekissofaphrodite · 4 months
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OMGG!! THIS IS AMAZING!! LUKE AS A GIRL DAD IS MAKING ME FEEL SO HAPPY
Family, Luke
Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader
Summary: Giving Luke Castellan a second chance to be a partner and the father he never was.
Warnings: Kissing, Near death experience, mentions of dead bodies and flashbacks of smut and teen pregnancy.
Author's note: This is requested! I do not support teen pregnancy, Please practice safe sex! LUKE IS 23 IN THIS TIMELINE!! and reader is 20! Luke and the reader became flings at age 19 and 18!
__
The battle scene was horrifying.
dead bodies of demigods who fought bravely had been scattered all around manhattan. Their divine blood staining the road, the hot scorching sun kissing their bodies.
Your breath hitched as you tried not to step on dead bodies, the putrid odour and lifeless eyes staring back at you were enough to make you gag as flies and insects crawled on the cold bodies While mumbling something incoherently, you clutched the gigantic green tumbler you brought filled with ambrosia, Your kaleidoscope eyes searching for someone.
Then, You saw him.
Luke.
His face was still handsome, even from the distance
You saw the blood pooling in his mouth while it dripped down his chin. The knife embedded under his left arm.
Without even thinking, you ran towards Luke, kneeling beside him. He was choking on his own blood,When he saw you, He smiled, His eyes gleaming with tears as he looked up at you. You came, That's what his smiled meant. the hermes boy tried to say something—But failed. His calloused palms reached your cheeks as you scrambled, opening the tumbler Cap.
"I'm here, Luke. Stay with me and hold on"
The time was ticking, and every second that had passed could be Luke's end. But the bottle wasn't cooperating. It seems like the Fates were telling you something. You used your strength to open it, glancing at Luke every second, scared and anxious.
Then, With a strong force, the tumbler opened. You smiled while you sighed in relief. Some of the ambrosia were spilt. But you couldn't care less.
You poured down the ambrosia down unto Luke's throat, not caring if his own blood mixed with the nectar. All you cared about was for him to live.
Your daughter can't grow up without a father.
The ambrosia was drunken by Luke, Despite him choking a little. You prayed to every gods you could think of to save him, He loves you and you love him, That was everything.
As the tumbler's ambrosia began to slowly empty, its contents drained down Luke's throat. The Hermes boy began to regain strength. He didn't know if the Gods still had mercy upon him..Or the Fates just played tricks, because seeing your presence after years was clearly a surprise.
Yet here you are. Caressing his soft brown curls, Waiting for him, Ever so beautiful with your soft frown filled with worry.
"C'mon, Luke..Say something" you ushered, tears threatening to spill from your kaleidoscope eyes.
He groaned, And for the first time, He said something.
"Hey Beauty," that old nickname that he called you when you two were still flings at camp halfblood rolled smoothly off his tongue, It got you tearing up, He smiled weakly as you hugged him, Luke hissed, You noticed that you squished his fresh wound. You chuckled, still sniffling whilst you helped Luke up.
Luke stumbled lightly, grasping your arms for support.
"So...Kronos, Hm?" You joked, Trying to enlighten his mood, Surprisingly, He chuckled. wiping the blood of his chin.
"I haven't seen you in years"
"Things happen, Luke." You looked away, The thought of keeping your daughter away from his still bothers you. It was maddening. So maddening, You wanted to kiss him and tell him that your daughter was waiting for him at home, desperately wanting your daughter to run up to him and whisper 'Dad'
"Hey.." He cupped your cheeks, His eyes meeting yours as you leaned against his touch, "Tell me everything, Why did you leave?" He asked.
"Remember that head counselor party that you hosted years ago? My sister snuck me with her..."
Flashback
The loud booming sound of rock music coming from the hermes cabin was enough make you cringe, let alone the very short party dress that your sister, Tania lend you, It revealed a not so friendly amount of skin on your thighs.
"Tania, can we please go back? I don't wanna go anymore, " you whispered to your older sister while pulling the dress down, She rolled her eyes and slapped your hands away.
"Out of all the hundred siblings we have, you chose me to accompany you to a party hosted by Luke Castellan himself?!" You screamed, earning a few glances from the campers, but you ignored them aside and picked up your pace, trying to keep up with your sister, Tania.
"This party happens once in a lifetime! Mr. D and Chiron are away! that makes it even better" Squeled Tania as you two reached the entrance of Cabin 11.
Suddenly, The door swung open, revealing luke castellan in a button up shirt, cargo pants and a red cup with liquor. The moment he saw you, you could've sworn you saw his eyes brighten.
"Tania! I see you brought Y/n, This is a counselor only party" Luke smirked, But Tania pulled you closer to her, Winking at Luke.
"She's gorgeous, Castellan. Make her an exception. Would you like that I brought Victoria instead—"
"—Gods no—"
"—Then let sweet y/n inside! Don't you think that I don't know about your ungodly teenage thoughts about her—" Luke pushed Tania inside as she cackled and ran towards her friends leaving you alone with Luke.
The cabin was decorated with colorful party strings and fallen confetti on the floor, Along with a wonky banner hung on the middle of the room saying; Head Counselors party! Come and join us (Companions allowed if they have atleast stolen wine from Mr. D's stash)
You chuckled. Thinking that Chris probably made that banner.
In the corner, You saw a small bar with spilled liquor and and messily scattered cups.
You poured yourself a drink, Mindlessly rocking to the booming music behind you, Then, You saw a tall silhouette towering behind you. The familiar curls on the shadows says so that it was none other than luke.
"Hey beauty, are you enjoying?" He asked, Keeping an eye on you while he sipped his drink, You nodded and did the same, Watching your sister tania flirt with a Hephaestus boy.
"Why did you let me in? you specifically said 'No companions allowed' " That question caught him off guard as he chuckled softly.
"Can I not make an exception? Tania said that afterall"
"What about those 'Ungodly thoughts' about me?"
"You mean what I imagine underneath that pretty dress of yours?" He whispered, Loud enough for you to hear.
His hands reached the strap of your red dress, He slipped it and made it fall, Revealing an excessive amount of your shoulders and neck. His long fingers caressing your neck all the way down to your breasts made you shiver. You looked around, Trying to see if anyone was watching before luke pulled you into a searing kiss, Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist as he brought you into the bathroom.
It all happened so fast with a simple click of the door's lock.
The dress bunched up your hips, Luke's cargo pants pulled down mid thighs, His lips sucking your neck while he thrusted swiftly inside you, The skin slapping and your moans were muffled by the loud sound of music.
"Luke—"
"I know, Baby, I know just— Hold on—Fuck!" His hips shook, So did your legs as your head fell back in pleasure while his hot seed filled you up, spilling a little.
The sound of heavy panting was broke by you, Wiping the mess he made on your inner thighs.
"So, this is the ungodly thoughts?"
"mhm" He hummed quietly while tucking his shirt in, He looked at you for a moment before kissing your forehead and whispered; "I love you"
Before you could even reply, The bathroom door was shut.
——
It had been weeks since you and Luke snuck out together, It was all a blur.
He was busy tending new campers, Befriending lonely newbies and keeping his cabin on track while you were in the bathroom...Puking...
"This is what I'm telling you! Drinking booze and shit at Castellan's party is the last thing you wanna do!" Your sister Tania had scolded you, she got your hair up in a ponytail while she patted your back aggressively.
"You know what? Fuck it, I'm too busy for this shit" She groaned and left, Leaving you alone.
When the sight was clear, you pulled out a boxed pregnancy test you bought (sneaking out of the border just to buy overpriced pregnancy tests from a cheap pharmacy wasn't cool)
Shutting the bathroom stall shut, You pulled down your underwear and waited for the results.
Those five minutes were the longest of your life.
And when two lines appeared, You exhaled a breath you never knew you held.
You stared at the wall, Rethinking your life choices at the meantime, Luke was your first and Last.
He's the father.
Gathering up courage, you got up and took and took a deep breath before walking out the bathroom, towards the apollo cabin where your siblings awaits.
"Is tania here?" You asked one of your siblings, But they shook their heads, Noticing that you're pale and clammy.
"Y/n? are you sure you're alright?" Asked Gracie, but you smiled weakly and nodded.
"I'll be fine, Just a little stomach ache"
Oh it was more than that...
Your day went on with you laying on your bed, sobbing quietly inside the apollo cabin waiting for your older sister, Tania.
When she entered the cabin, You immediately wiped your tears and composed yourself, walking towards her wobbly.
"I don't have time for whatever shit you've done Y/n, I'm busy—"
"I passed a test" You said.
Her eyes then widened.
"Oh Gods..You mean— THE test for your final semester in high school? I told you you'd pass! We should celebrate! Wait— We should get some balloons and—"
"—Tania—"
"—should we invite Sophie Davies from Cabin 4? She's bitchy but fun to hang out with—"
"—It's a pregnancy test"
There was a deafening silence.
"What."
"It's a pregnancy test—"
"Shut up. I heard you the first time! Who's is it?" She whispered.
"Luke Castellan"
Your sister, Tania stepped away and shook her head.
"You're on your own now, I will not be taking care of those pathetic excuses I call a sibling, Let alone a goddamn baby" Tears spilled from your eyes as Tania slammed the door shut.
The Apollo Cabin was gloomy and dark despite it's residents and campers being offsprings of the sun, You looked around and saw her bags, It wasn't long before you're sneaking out the camp boarder, Thinking about Luke.
"I— We did... God knows what inside the bathroom, and I got—" You inhaled sharply, Your fist curled up into a ball whilst your nails dug into your skin.
"I got pregnant...I didn't know how or what to tell you..and I was a kid..and I was scared so I ran away, I ran to my father's old apartment and got a job as a waitress at this dingy old restaurant owned by married immigrants and I only make seven dollars an hour and at that time May was born and the hospital bills are insane so I gotta borrow some cash from my dad and pay it off— Gods it makes me wanna cry seeing May without a father— I can't live it up to myself— When she started kindergarten she was crying when I picked her up, And I was refraining myself to burst into tears infront of her since I need to be strong for her"
That immediate break down had Luke frozen.
All these years that you disappeared, You were struggling all alone, with your daughter you just had. He wanted to kiss you and say 'It's alright, I'm here' But isn't it too late for that now?
"You hid her away from me, Why?" His voice barely a whisper.
"I was afraid what you'll do to her the same thing happened to those halfbloods, she deserves more than that. I want to teach her who she is before your family tells her what they want her to be"
"I'm sorry I wasn't there" That's the only thing that Luk could ever say, Guilt washing all over him like pouring rain.
"You're here now. You're the hero of the great Prophecy"
"I want to be the father I never was to May" Tears rolled down his eyes as you hugged him tightly, Your head placed against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.
"May's with my aunt.." Luke smiled and kissed your forehead.
"I wouldn't mind visiting"
There was a car honking in the distance, When the passenger door opened, It revealed your aunt carrying May.
"Look— HEY! Y/N!" Yelled your aunt as she ran towards you, May squealing as she was bounced around.
"Mommy!" Squeled the little girl as she thrashed around your aunt's arms, Begging for you to carry her.
"Is this the baby daddy?" Your aunt asked, Her brows raised and her hands on her hips looking Luke up and down.
you nudged her on her ribs and gave her a look, She rolled her eyes and got back to her car.
The little girl in your arms looked at her father, titling her head in confusion before grabbing his curls, She giggled and looked at her same curly hair tied in pigtails.
"We're the same, Hm?" Luke smiled at his daughter, The little girl gave the same smile before shyly wrapping her tiny arms around Luke's neck.
The sight of them wanted to make your heart melt.
Everything that Luke has ever done was unforgivable. But all that matters now was your family.
A/N
Hey lovies!! I finally finished a request! sorry for not posting for a long time, Believe me when I say that I snuck my phone away in class so many times just to update, but here I am! I used one of Sally's lines from the series here I hope you guys don't mind 😉
Requested by @rainestorm2556 <33
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salty-accords · 17 days
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Aphrodite Intro Pages
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Let us delve into the realm of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, known as the Smile-Loving. She is a divine beauty, Her radiance rivaling that of the heavens, yet Her wrath can be as fierce as the sea She was born from. Emerging from the sea froth of Ouranos' castration, She is hailed as the daughter of Zeus. While She may be a minor deity of the sea, particularly associated with sea foam and creatures like tortoises, turtles, and clams, Her influence extends far beyond, shaping numerous myths and narratives as the Goddess of Passion.
These pages will give you a glimpse into my understanding and reverence of Aphrodite. The content, largely drawn from my grimoire, is a testament to my unique perception and worship of this goddess. However, it's important to note that the altar concept, while significant to me, is a conceptual representation and not a direct reflection of my daily worship. These visuals are crafted with the internet in mind and are highly aesthetic.
55. To Aphrodite (The Orphic Hymns, Athanassakis and Wolkow translation; excerpt)
Heavenly, smiling Aphrodite, praised in many hymns, sea-born revered goddess of generation, you like the night-long revel, you couple lovers at night, O scheming mother of Necessity. Everything comes from you: you have yoked the world, you control all three realms, you give birth to all, to everything in heaven, to everything upon the fruitful earth, to everything in the depths of the sea, O venerable companion of Bacchos. You delight in festivities, O bride-like mother of the Erotes, O Persuasion, whose joy is in the bed of love, secretive giver of grace, visible and invisible, lovely-tressed daughter of a noble father, bridal feast companion of the gods, sceptered, she-wolf, beloved and man-loving, giver of birth and life. Your maddening love-charms yoke mortals, they yoke the many races of beasts to unbridled passion. Come, O goddess born in Kypros: you may be on Olympos, O queen, exulting in the beauty of your face, you may be in Syria, country of fine frankincense you may be driving your golden chariot in the plain, you may lord it over Egypt's fertile river bed. Come, whether you ride your swan-drawn chariot over the sea's billows, joining the creatures of the deep, as they dance in circles, or on the land in the company of the dark-faced nymphs as light-footed they frisk over the sandy beaches, Come lady, even if you are in Kypros that cherishes you, where fair maidens and chaste brides throughout the year sing of you, O blessed one, as they sing of immortal, pure Adonis. Come, O beautiful, O comely goddess, I summon you with holy words, I summon you with a pious soul.
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bby-blu-swirll · 8 months
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insomnia - scenario ! w/ bakugo, todoroki, iida, & kirishima
at the time of starting this,, i posted a whole short a few hours ago, but i can't sleep and it's getting frustrating, so here's some little whatever's so i don't go bonkers in my little corner <3
( in my experience, insomnia is very very frustrating and kinda makes me want to bash my head in and throw myself into the mediterranean, so i may or may not be slightly touching on those feelings here as well idkk )
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bakugo :
tbh if you came knocking at his door in the small hours of the morning, he would probably seem a bit irritated ( dw he isn't he's just worried about you and doesn't know how to show it. and he might be just a little irritated, )
"the hell are you doing up this late?"
he'd lean against his doorframe as you explained - you'd been trying to sleep for hours, but you just couldn't get tired, couldn't get comfortable, couldn't keep your eyes closed. and it was just a bit maddening,
with a heavy sigh, he'd open up his door and step to the side ( a silent invitation into his dorm ).
bffr tho as soon as he closes that door, he's pulling you into a hug, rubbing your back, massaging your head and just holding you to his chest. he wouldn't say anything, just hold you, making sure to take deep, slow breaths.
eventually he would pull out of your arms and make his way back to his bed, rolling onto his back. at first you thought that was his way of telling you that you were done there, but after a second of you not moving, he would open his eyes and look over to you, motioning to his chest.
"are you coming or what?"
he would sleep as he usually did, with an arm behind his head, but tonight his free hand was around your waist, holding you close.
he wouldn't draw attention to it, but he would do his best to stay awake until you were out. he'd use his thumb or fingers to draw small patterns on your torso to try and lull you to sleep.
the more you came to his door at night, the less he asked.
eventually it got to the point of you coming in without knocking, and just crawling into bed with him. he never seemed to mind though. as soon as he was stirred, he would look around a bit, see you, and relax again, wrapping an arm around you.
he'd give you a half awake, "you okay?" just in case it was worse than usual, or if it had a more specific cause.
under the circumstance you said no, he would sit up so he wouldn't fall asleep and just listen to you talk until you were ready to pass out in his arms again <3
todoroki :
he understands sleeping problems, they probably plagued him in and out of his childhood.
the first time you had come knocking at his door, he was concerned. he would try to help, offer to make you tea or get you a blanket or melatonin or anything you could need.
but if it got to the point you were willing to wake him up, then you had already tried everything. dragging him into your waking nightmare was the last thing you wanted to do, really.
before he could finish his list of solutions, you had your arms wrapped around his waist and your body weight leaning against his.
"whoa, hon, hey..."
he would hold you up and support you immediately, kissing your head and lifting your chin to face him.
he would push some hair from your face and smile at you. maybe kiss the tip of your nose,
"don't worry love, i'll take care of you.."
he'd lie in bed with you, playing with your hair and just brushing his fingertips across your skin. he would probably lie awake just a bit, racking his brain over you.
he just wanted to help you, and knowing there was nothing more he could do than hold you and try his best to be comforting, it just didn't feel like enough. in perfect contrast, though, he couldn't help but know exactly how you felt.
when he was young and still shouldering his father's abuse alone, he had plenty of sleepless nights that nothing but the sunrise could put an end to. he was, at the very least, grateful he could be one thing he didn't have- warmth and comfort to reassure you that you weren't dealing with all this alone.
all his guilt dissipated when you were quietly breathing in his arms, fast asleep, a few minutes later.
in the future, on those especially rough nights that you found yourself at the door of his dorm, he would always be there for you.
he had begun to insist that you didn't need to keep knocking, and after some time you finally listened. some nights, you just went over before either of you first went to bed in the first place.
he didn't shift much in his sleep, but even when he did, he would always find a way to keep his hands on you. the physical contact seemed to be good for you and your insomnia, so he made it a point to offer that comfort, even when he was unconscious. <3
extra - he definitely started getting a second glass of water for his room at night, just for you
iida :
he did react poorly when you first came knocking on his door in the middle of the night, breaking curfew and the rules of being in each other's dorms past dark. (ESPECIALLY your partner's dorm). just know that it wasn't personal.
he was about to scold you in a whisper tone, but put a full stop to that the moment he noticed that you looked as though you were about to cry.
"uh- y/n? are you alright?"
his voice was gentle and concerned, his intense respect for the rules going out the window the second he saw you hurting. he would hold out a hand to carefully cup your jaw, his worry growing when you just closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.
"oh... come in, darling, tell me what's bothering you."
he would turn on whatever his softest light was and sit you down on his bed. he, of course, would take his desk chair and move it so he could sit across from you. after all, if he had no clue what made you so upset, he wouldn't want to risk making you uncomfortable as well.
as soon as you explained your troubles, he went straight into logical solutions. though his intentions were the most pure, his words were frustrating nonetheless.
"a nice cup of chamomile should do the trick!" "have you made sure you've been off your phone for at least an hour before you retire for the night?" "i've heard wonderful things about melato-"
"iida."
you didn't even want to give him a chance to finish that last thought. you thanked him for his efforts, you really did appreciate them, but you were insistent that this was a continuous issue that you've tried everything and them some to cure.
you explained the frustration of lying awake, tossing and turning, never quite comfortable and never quite tired enough. hour after hour of constant moving and shifting that feel like second and an eternity at the same time.
iida was a man of logic, but he was also a man with a heart. he understood frustration, feeling powerless and completely stuck.
so, where logical solutions had failed, he knew now what was left to do was just to comfort you and be there.
over the course of your relationship, you had shaken him a bit loose of being so uptight. especially when it came to pda and physical touch, and ESPECIALLY when it came to being 1 on 1 inside the dorms. despite all that, he would still normally put up some kind of protest as you tried to weasel your way into his lap before he gave up.
this time, however, he made no effort to stop you from curling up to him once he switched off the lights. he understood this is just where you were right now and what you were needing, and this is all he could do, and he was happy to break the rules for your sake.
so much so, that this became regular. he would leave his door unlocked for you to come in and snuggle up to him however you'd like, and he would wake up for long enough to adjust to you, hold you and ask if you were all right before you could both drift off.
any night without fail, he would do whatever he needed to to help you out, even though that definitely went against his intense respect of the ua dorm code. as long as aizawa never found out, he was free to care for his darling girl another night. <3
kirishima :
he's the kind of boyfriend who's like your built in best friend. except you can make out with him.
the first time you had trouble sleeping, you told him immediately the next morning.
"bro i had the worst time trying to sleep last night,"
and the next
"omg babe it happened again."
and kirishima is honestly the biggest sweetheart, he's just trying to be manly and be there for you, so it's safe to say he would have extended an invitation to his dorm by the third time you mentioned it. maybe even sooner.
we all know he's smart, but his first thought probably wouldn't be all the herbal remedies and healthy living practices that could solve your problem. he probably did some research on them when your issues first started, but the second you found out the didn't work, he dropped them to find some other fix. turns out, it was him.
you would knock at his door, just a bit nervous he would be upset even though he had offered beforehand.
he would know it was you, immediately, and answer all sleepy and half awake. rubbing his eyes, he'd lean against his doorframe and put an arm around your waist.
"hey, baby.. 's it happening again?"
you would just nod and he would lead you inside, his hand never leaving your lower back.
"is there anything i can do, or do you wanna just try and go to sleep?"
he would definitely make sure you were completely taken care of - if you needed a glass of water or wanted a snack, he would personally get you one from downstairs and insist that you don't worry your pretty little head and just get nice and cozy in his bed.
once he was positive you had everything you could possibly need, he would snuggle all close to you in any way.
he probably mostly sleeps on his back, with you lying on his chest. he'd have one hand on your back and the other in your hair, brushing through it gently or just massaging your scalp, just trying to help you relax.
sometimes he'd spoon you, just pressed to you with an arm draped over your waist, holding you close. on those nights, he would probably move your shirt up just a bit to be able to trace small circles on your skin. (his hands are warm too aww)
but no matter how you were lying together, he would always be whispering sweet little nothings to you.
extra lol -
there was one time when you said you wished you could get some fresh air, and he was ready to sneak out in 3 minutes. it was freezing outside, but he just said it was just more reason to keep an arm around you while you wandered the bright and colorful streets of musutafu past midnight.
(iida definitely caught you guys on your way back in, but he let it slide when you agreed to do the dishes for a few nights. (kirishima took most of that responsibility too lol <3) )
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if anybody wants me to do this w/ different characters, my inbox is open ! it's also open for any other requests <33
my last few posts have pretty much all been some kind of hurt/comfort so i think i wanna do something more fun and cutesy or smth lol anyway
i love you sm sleep well !! 💗💗
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Adoration - T. R. x fem!Reader
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A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I figured I’d post it. It’s unedited and my first time writing a sex scene so please be nice 💛 No use of Y/N. Reader is Dumbledore’s daughter. Tom is in his seventh year for this fic
Infatuation, the second part, is here
CW: Angst, so much angst; religious trauma, I guess?; Dumbledore bashing; mentions of devils; mentions of past physical abuse; trauma related to masturbation; crying, nausea, shame, and self-hatred related to masturbation; hurt/comfort kinda; praise kink; uhhh I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything!!!
Does contain mature content so NO MINORS PLEASE!!! Just keep scrolling!!
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Tom hated Dumbledore. The professor reminded him too much of the priests at the orphanage. The ones who smile and pretend to be your friend, but are never there when you truly need it.
Tom hated Dumbledore. The way he so obviously played favorites while blatantly denying doing so. Slughorn was an annoying professor, but at least he admitted to his favorites.
Tom hated Dumbledore. The way the man looked as if he knew something Tom didn’t. It got under his skin; made him itch with discomfort.
But no matter how much Tom hated Dumbledore, he hated his daughter more.
You’d been his first true connection to the wizarding world. You’d been there that first day, when Dumbledore had come to visit Tom in the orphanage.
You’d stood quiet and docile as Dumbledore told Tom about his magic. Tom had listened, of course. But it wasn’t until he was alone with you later that he truly believed.
You’d sat on the edge of his rickety bed, while your father had gone to discuss things with the orphanage nuns.
“They call me a freak,” Tom had said quietly. “They say I’m possessed by the devil.”
You’d looked at him. You, with your lovely wide eyes and sweet trusting smile. “What’s a devil?” You’d asked, so earnestly. “Your magic is special. See? I can do it too.”
You’d held out your hand, concentrating. A small flower had bloomed in your palm, sprouting from nowhere. And Tom had finally believed.
Believed you and your stupid smile. Your darling sweet manner. Your soft-spoken words.
All the things he despised about you now.
Despised… and adored.
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Tom could not get you out of his head. You haunted him. Hounded him. It was maddening.
Every morning you’d smile so sweetly at him. You’d laugh or say something silly and inconsequential. And it would stick in Tom’s head all day long.
He couldn’t stand it!
You were nothing compared to him. He was Tom Riddle, the newly discovered Heir of Slytherin! The future ruler of the wizarding world! Voldemort!
You were the daughter of a half-witted buffoon who’d abandoned Tom as soon as he’d gotten to Hogwarts.
And yet, he could not get you out of his head.
Like now.
He’d been in the library, trying to study peacefully when you’d approached him with that smile of yours. You’d needed his help getting a book down.
Of course he helped; he could never truly end up saying no to your smile. Just another fact he hated.
But he’d stood too close to you while getting down the book, and he’d accidentally brushed up against you.
And now he was in his room, angrily trying to will the erection you’d unknowingly given him away.
It doesn’t work. Not after five minutes, not after ten. The memory of your blush and sweet smile was too much.
Tom can’t stand this. He has a meeting with one of his teachers in an hour!
So there’s only one thing to do.
Tom settles back into his bed, exhaling heavily. This has rarely been a pleasurable experience for him. The nuns at Wool’s were strict in their devotion to chastity. Even with the boys.
Tom’s been beaten more times than he can count after being caught trying to get some relief. So he avoids it until absolutely necessary.
And now he’s having to do it, all because of your horrendous smile.
Tom unbuckles his pants, glancing at the door to double check it’s locked. It is.
Tom takes his time pulling out his cock. Rushing feels too much like being back at the orphanage.
He grimaces at the sight. Too many bad memories are associated with what he’s about to do.
With a deep breath, Tom closes his eyes and clears his mind and wraps a hand around his cock.
The self-loathing hits after the first few moments. It’s strong enough that he falters, wanting to vomit.
But the need for release is stronger than his hatred. He continues on, swallowing down his nausea.
Every moment is like torture. His mind conjuring hateful words about himself, while his body aches with pleasure.
He starts to cry; silent tears pooling in his eyes. It’s too much. The hatred. The disgust and shame.
Just as he’s about to let go and give up, a new thought enters his mind. A smile…
His frenzied mind attaches itself to the thought like a rabid dog. Before he can even comprehend the switch, Tom’s breath is taken away.
There you are, in his mind. Sitting at the edge of his bed, smiling.
He stills immediately, but your smile isn’t mocking. It’s… peaceful.
“Silly boy,” you murmur, in his mind. “What are you so worked up about?”
Tom swallows, shaking. “You,” he whispers.
You laugh, soft and teasing. The sound makes Tom ache.
In his mind, you reach out, fingers feather soft. You grasp his cock, that ever-infuriating smile on your face.
“Silly boy,” you coo. “It’s as easy as this.”
As your imaginary hand glides along his cock, his own hand does the same. Tom whimpers. It feels incredible.
He starts to speed up, panting as your imagined self murmurs encouragements to him.
“That’s it,” you whisper to him. “That’s my good boy.”
“Your good boy,” he repeats, breathless.
You laugh again, your voice so achingly soft. And Tom cums so hard his ears ring.
He hunches over, gasping for breath. You’re gone now. His thoughts flit around aimlessly. What had just happened?
He lies back, gazing up at the ceiling in shock. He’d just— You’d— You.
He’s made a mess of his pants and bedsheets. But this time, the shame and self-hatred are overshadowed by a sudden rush of annoyance.
Of course it would be you. You, with your smile and laughter. You, who he cannot rid from his brain as much as he tries.
You.
He cleans himself up, too busy plotting how he can get his revenge to feel ashamed at the mess.
307 notes · View notes
hairstevington · 4 months
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Teleplatonic
Summary: Robin starts hearing voices in Click's class. Well, it's one voice. A dude. Some douchebag jock who Robin's unrequited love has a thing for. Could high school be any worse? (5K words)
Warnings: Not much just Steve and Robin being platonic soulmates, mention of Steddie and Stommy backstory, Click's class and Scoops Ahoy era Stobin, the coming out scene (my beloved)
A/N: Many thanks to my discord ( @strangerthingswritersguild ) who encouraged me to take my silly idea and turn it into a cute lil fluffy one shot about the power of platonic loveeeee. Ao3 link here for those interested!
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At first, Robin thought she was going crazy.
Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. She was already a closeted lesbian in the eighties, so she was doomed anyway. Might as well add schizophrenia to the list. 
Click’s class was a mixed bag. On one hand, Tammy Thompson. On the other, Steve Harrington.
Ugh. 
Robin had been in love with Tammy Thompson since the fifth grade, when they split a candy bar the day after Halloween. Robin wasn’t allowed to eat much candy growing up, thanks to her father being a dentist. Tammy extended an olive branch by means of chocolate nougat, and Robin had been smitten ever since. 
This was their first class together in high school, and it was supposed to be amazing. Robin was going to work up the courage to really talk to Tammy and maybe even be her friend. Yeah, it might torture Robin even more, considering the crush that was clearly not going to go anywhere - Robin had watched Tammy date enough guys to know there was no chance, and even if there was, Robin was far too anxious to do anything about it. 
But still.
The first day of Click’s class came, and it was perfect. Robin was paired up with Tammy to discuss an assignment, and they were getting along beautifully. Robin even made her laugh! 
Robin was an idiot who got her hopes up, and those hopes were immediately dashed when Steve “The Hair” Harrington rolled into the classroom, late, and plopped himself down right in front of Robin.
Immediately, Tammy’s eyes were on him, and they stayed on him the rest of the year. It didn’t matter when he got bagel crumbs everywhere, or asked stupid questions, or laughed along when kids were being made fun of. None of that mattered, because Tammy didn’t care. 
Robin hated Steve Harrington so much she never stopped thinking about him. She thought about how much she hated him, how much she wished he’d flunk out, and she even thought about ways she could sabotage him so he would flunk out.
But Robin was a good person, and she could never do something like that. 
Anyway, thank goodness she was smart, because she barely paid attention in that class and still got an A. The problem was, she started hearing voices.
Well, no. She heard one voice, singular. A man, no less. 
At first it was so soft, she figured someone was whispering behind her. She couldn’t even make out the words most of the time, so it didn’t matter. She’d look at Tammy, and she’d look at Steve, and everything else was a blur. 
Over time, the voice got louder, and then Robin couldn’t ignore it anymore. 
This class is such a snooze. 
Honestly, it was. Robin would have been thinking the same thing, had she been paying attention. But then, the voice started saying things she didn’t agree with. Things she would never think. 
Napoleon looks just like Aunt Margaret’s baby. Ha, that’s funny. I’m funny.
The voice continued, saying even stranger things. Usually very sexual things. Sometimes, downright offensive things. It was maddening.
Mrs. Buckley was a psychotherapist, so Robin grew up surrounded by literature about psychology and the human brain. She was aware of crazy people that heard voices, and she had no option other than to accept that she was on the road to becoming one of those people. It was just…it was weird though, because she only heard the voice at school. And it was always loudest in Click’s class. 
The possibility that she was reading someone’s mind did occur to her, but that seemed impossible. It was impossible, so she had a hard time even letting herself think that. Yeah, Robin would have rather found herself crazy than let herself believe she was a superhero. Her mom would have had a field day unpacking that one with her.
Anyway, she finally put all the pieces together a few weeks in, after another particularly boring lecture in Click’s class. 
I’m so lost.
Literally how? They were just reviewing information they’d already learned. She wondered if maybe this voice was a manifestation of her low self esteem or something. She wished she would have been able to tell her parents without worrying about being sent to the loony bin.
“Steve?” Mrs. Click called. “Can you name the four presidents depicted on Mount Rushmore?”
The voice continued.
Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. I’m screwed. Why is she asking me of all people? Do I look like I know the goddamn answer? 
It was the first time the voice was responding. Robin’s head started reeling.
“Uhhhh -” Steve began. “Well, it’s, uhhh….” Okay, four presidents. I can name four presidents. If they’re wrong, she’ll move on.  “George Washington…”
“Very good,” Mrs. Click encouraged.
Right on, okay. Shit. Is Benjamin Franklin a president? He seems like he should be. 
Robin’s breath hitched as she froze, recognizing the two voices as the same and officially coming to terms with her predicament. She gasped, cupping her hand over her mouth. A few people turned to look at her, including Steve, who only glanced at her before looking back at the front of the classroom.
Steve cleared his throat and sat up. “Uhh, what about all the presidents that aren’t on Mount Rushmore, right? Like - like Teddy Roosevelt. That guy was a total badass.” Steve folded his arms, as if he’d made an incredible, life changing point.
“Theodore Roosevelt is one of the presidents on Mount Rushmore, Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. Click said.
“Oh,” Steve replied, caught off guard. Fuck. “Oh, right. I mean, that’s what I was trying to say.”
You’re an idiot, Steve. A goddamn idiot.
Robin couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, in a way. She hated him, but still. He was a person with feelings. He couldn’t help that he was an idiot.
She raised her hand.
“Mrs. Click, I know the answer,” Robin announced. The teacher gestured for Robin to take over. “George Washington, Theodore Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, and Thomas Jefferson.”
Thank God for band geeks. 
Robin sighed. Sure, she’d helped him. But he was still a douchebag.
-
The class carried on like this. Any time Robin felt any sort of connection to Tammy, she’d get distracted by the idiot who’s hair wasn’t even that good. It certainly didn’t warrant a whole nickname over. Steve “I don’t care” Harrington would have been more accurate. 
That’s the part that drove Robin the most crazy. He didn’t care about Tammy. He didn’t care about school. He didn’t care about history. Why was he there? Why was his one true talent being the absolute bane of her existence?
I have to stop thinking about it. 
Robin’s ears perked up, which was a silly phrase considering she wasn’t hearing soundwaves. The whole, “I’m hearing Steve Harrington’s inner thoughts” had lost its luster. Like, she thought she was going crazy, then she thought she was going crazy in a different way, and then she realized she was just cursed. 
Worst. Superpower. Ever.
Especially because she couldn’t hear anyone else! What made Steve different? Why him, of all people???
Grow up, Steve. It doesn’t mean anything.
The voice sounded much more somber that day. Robin leaned back, closer to Steve’s seat, even though the idea of her being physically closer was a bit arbitrary.
Ugh, but Tommy looks so good today.
Wait, did he say Tammy? Was he finally giving Tammy the time of day?
What I’d give to kiss him again…
Robin’s eyes bulged out of her head. She practically fell out of her chair, causing alarm to the rest of the class. 
‘Him?!?!’ Steve wanted to kiss ‘him?!?!’ Wait - Steve had this friend - Tommy H - and, ugh, that guy was even worse than Steve. He was meaner, and stupider, and - 
STEVE WANTED TO KISS A GUY?! AGAIN?!
Robin scrambled back into her seat, muttering a quiet apology, and everything around her returned to normal. 
She didn’t, though. Nothing would ever be normal again.
-
Robin survived Click’s class. Steve started getting a reputation. She didn’t talk to him, but there was nothing discreet about the way he was seen prancing through the halls with his arm around a different girl every week. 
None of them were Tammy. Robin hated how relieved that made her. 
It was strange. He was drooling about Tommy in his mind any time Robin was close enough to hear it, but on the outside, he was pretending to be something completely different.
For the first time, Robin realized she and Steve had something in common.
The following year, she avoided him at all costs. They didn’t have any other classes together, so she really only had to worry about casually passing him in the halls or sitting near him in the cafeteria. It just felt too real to be around him. She knew something she wasn’t supposed to, and that made her feel…icky.
Of course, they were at the same school, so they did run into each other a few times. Once, he literally bumped into her when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Woah, sorry,” he said with a laugh. Do I know her?
Robin rolled her eyes, and then she saw his gaze drift. Ugh, Carol. Why is he even dating her?
She ran away without another word, like a scared little mouse. He probably thought she was this weird, hyper, super-nerd, but whatever. It didn’t matter what he thought of her, and she wasn’t going to stick around long enough to find out.
Then, one day, she saw Tommy and Steve running off to talk in private, and curiosity got the best of her.
She had to know what was going on, okay? She was borderline obsessed with Steve at this point. She was far past trying to figure out what was going on in her head, so she settled for learning more about what was going on in his.
Besides, if they really wanted the conversation to be private, they would have gone somewhere that didn’t have a spot nearby prime for snooping.
She listened in from behind a wall.
“What are you on about, Harrington?” Tommy asked.
He’s not even listening. I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore.
“I’m just saying, she’s - like, what are you doing, man?”
There was a slam of a body against a locker. 
“I got a girlfriend,” Tommy drawled. “You should try it sometime.”
God, his lips are so close. I could just lean in and - no. No, I have to get over this. I can’t keep doing this.
“Maybe I will,” Steve said.
About a week later, he was dating Nancy Wheeler.
Their paths didn’t intersect much at all after that. Robin did think about meddling or investigating the situation more, but it wasn’t her business. Steve kept telling himself he had to move on, and she did too.
She still thought about Steve constantly, but it was hard not to. He was literally in her head. Sometimes she’d pass by him and hear total nonsense. I’d rather be fighting a goddamn demodog than go to math. Most of the time he just thought about what superpowers he’d have. 
And then, mercifully, he graduated.
-
That summer, Robin got a job slinging ice cream at a nautical-themed store in Starcourt Mall. She had to wear a stupid outfit, but, like - she was in the marching band, she was used to that. The job was fine, albeit boring. It gave her extra money so she could save up for…something, eventually. She didn’t know what yet. Maybe college? Every penny counts and all that.
But one fateful day in June, the voice came back.
No, no, no. I can’t go in there, not like this. It’s humiliating. I’ll - no, get over yourself. It’s just a job. You stupid pathetic loser, can’t even get into college. No, shh. This will be good for you. Just - oh my God, just go in!
Robin didn’t even look up from wiping the counter when her new coworker approached. She didn’t have to.
He was different than when he’d been in high school. He was sadder. It was even more miserable to hear him ramble on about his innermost insecurities than it was to hear him think about boobs. 
Like, at least Robin also thought about boobs. She was insecure too, but that meant there was no space in her brain to hear anyone else’s thoughts about themselves. 
The weird thing was, he didn’t think about Tommy at all, and he was flirting with every woman that came in. Unsuccessfully, but still. 
It was…incredibly surreal, her becoming friends with someone and hearing them become friends with her at the same time. Robin could hear him trust her more and more as the days went by. She could hear him change his initial assumptions about her. She could hear him soften up, open up, and show her that he’d changed. He was different than he’d been in Click’s class. He’d left his high school persona behind.
She could hear him slowly fall for her.
That was the worst part of the whole thing by far. Worse than Click’s class. Worse than holding his secret feelings for Tommy, worse than the stupid questions and musings that made no sense. He was starting to love her, and she was starting to love him - but, she knew the types of love weren’t the same. She would disappoint him, and she’d lose him. 
How strange it was to fear losing something she used to loathe having at all.
-
Honestly, by the time they were stuck in that elevator, she’d been prepped on everything based on Steve’s thoughts alone. There was too much going on for anyone to question her lack of freaking out. Besides, it’s not like Steve or Dustin were the poster children for good decisions under pressure. 
At least, she figured they wouldn’t be. 
Erica was strong and capable, but she was a child. So was Dustin, but it was abundantly clear to Robin that this wasn’t his first rodeo. Same with Steve, but she knew that already. Over the few weeks of them working together, she’d heard all kinds of things. Things she’d once brushed off as nonsense, that became too specific to ignore. The Upside Down. The Russians. Eleven. The Mindflayer. 
Robin thought it was part of some game, at first. Dustin was into Dungeons and Dragons, right? She was pretty sure the Mindflayer was from that, but no. Steve wasn’t into Dungeons and Dragons at all - she checked - and she started hearing more about experiences rooted in the real world. She heard about what really happened to Barb, and how it ripped Steve and Nancy apart. She heard about how Nancy ran off with Jonathan, and how Steve let her. She heard about Steve becoming a babysitter in the thick of it, because he had to. She heard about how he got himself beat up in the name of protecting them. 
And then she watched him get beat up again, in the name of protecting her. 
She did love him. Yeah. It was against everything she’d ever believed, but she loved Steve Harrington. She just didn’t love him like that.
-
She tried to tell him when they were on the floor, tied to the chair, and seemingly with only hours left to live, if that.
She started laughing. She wasn’t sure what else there was to do.
Fuck, that hurt. Oh shit, she’s crying. “It’s okay, don’t cry. Robin.” Ugh, the way he was trying to comfort her even in the worst of times. It made her ache. She kept laughing, louder now. “Wait, are you laughing?”
Yup.
“Yeah.”
What the hell is wrong with this woman? 
“Jesus.”
“I just can’t believe,” she began, “that I’m going to die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”
It was trippy for even more reasons than he could ever know.
Yeah, you’re telling me. We’re screwed. “We’re not gonna die,” he said. Another annoying consequence of this whole mind reading thing was that she would always know when he was lying. “We’re gonna get out of here, I just gotta think for a second.”
“Sure, please do,” Robin insisted, still laughing. Him thinking consisted mostly of, shit shit shit oh my God shit what do we do?  
But Steve rarely let that side show. He was so much different on the inside, all the time. 
“Do you remember, um - Sophomore year Mrs. Click’s history class?”
Oh, shit. That just slipped out. Then again, they were gonna die, so…
“What?”
Robin continued. “Mrs. Clickety-Clackety. That’s what all us band dweebs called her. It was first period - Tuesdays and Thursdays - so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon egg and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?”
No. 
He didn’t say it, and he didn’t have to. “Of course you don’t,” Robin continued. Thoughts of that year came flooding back to her like a tsunami. “You were a real asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But it didn’t even matter that you were an ass, I was still obsessed with you." The words were pouring out of her now. "Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just want to be popular. Accepted. Normal.”
His thoughts were a mere buzzing in the background of her confession, but she did pick out him lighting up at her mentioning her obsession. She immediately wished she’d just been totally honest, because now she was being misconstrued. 
“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” he said.
She knew that by now. She’d learned it through him. 
“Steve, I -”
“I wish I’d known you back in Click’s class,” Steve said. “Maybe you would have helped me pass.”
“I did,” she confessed. “Or, at least I tried.”
“What?”
A buzzer shook them away from their conversation. She’d missed her chance. It was over.
And then came the truth serum. That damned, terrifying, life-changing, blessed truth serum. 
Well, that and Dustin saving their asses with a cattle prod.
After that came more laughter and terror and running and even more laughter and more running and then they were in an elevator back up to the real world again. She was with her friend and she was ecstatic. It was like she was floating. She’d never so much as had a sip of alcohol, but this is what she always imagined musicians felt like when they wrote all those songs about being on drugs.
Popcorn. Back to the Future. Laughing, laughing, laughing. You know, the weird part about that truth serum was that she stopped hearing Steve’s thoughts, if only for a bit. He said everything he thought, so it really just sounded like an echo, and everything sounded like an echo to her. The colors were bright. The noises were loud. And Steve was - 
Oh, no. Steve was her best friend. 
They both got sick and ran for the bathroom. There was that rare moment of calm that, up until that point, she never thought she’d have again. 
“You think we puked all that shit out of our system?” he asked.
Well. There was only one way to find out.
“Maybe,” Robin responded. “Ask me something.”
If he could read her mind, he would have heard something like - Ask me if I’m gay. Please, do this for me like I did for you. I don’t think I can say the words.
Instead, he asked her when the last time she peed herself was. She answered truthfully, but that wasn’t a truth she was scared to admit. They were being tortured earlier - peeing herself was the least of her worries.
“Alright, my turn,” Robin said. She took a deep breath and pondered the question, knowing that whatever she asked she likely already knew the answer to. But it wasn’t about knowing. It was about getting to the conversation she needed to have. If she didn’t do it now, she never would. 
“Have you ever been in love?”
Steve answered quickly. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler, first semester, senior year.” 
He didn’t mention Tommy, which was intriguing. From Robin’s point of view, he had dated her for show. Or, he’d dated her because Tommy rejected him.
“Really?” Robin asked, amused. “But she’s such a priss.”
Yeah, until she threatened to shoot me. “Hm,” Steve replied. “Turns out, not really.”
Woah. Okay. Evidently, Robin didn’t know everything yet.
“Are you still in love with Nancy?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”
Robin took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. This needed to happen, but she was still so scared. Even if he wasn’t homophobic, he loved her, and she was about to turn him down. How could their friendship sustain that? What would happen if he hated her guts, and she had to hear him think it every time they interacted?
She listened to him list off all the reasons he liked her. She was funny. She was smart. She was cool. Beautiful. He said all the things she’d heard him say in so many ways on the inside, but now it was real. 
She couldn’t find any words to respond.
“Robin, did you just O.D. in there?”
“No,” she replied, her voice shaking. “I am still alive.”
He slid himself under the stall against the disgusting floor so he could face her. Oh, great. This wasn’t going to help at all.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“Steve, I have to tell you something,” she said. “That thing I told you earlier, about being obsessed with you in Click’s class - it wasn’t - it wasn’t because I had a crush on you.”
He listened so intently his mind went quiet.
Robin told Steve about Tammy Thompson, and she saw him process it in real time. It didn’t take long, once he understood what she was referring to.
“Oh,” he finally said. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Holy shit.”
This is huge. I should tell her about Tommy. I should - I could - I finally have someone I can talk to about it.
“Steve, did you O.D. over there?”
“No, just thinking.”
I - I can’t. I can’t do it.
So instead, he did what he did best, and he made her laugh. And then the entire moment became focused on that, and how insane it was for them to be on the floor of the Starcourt bathroom after having spent days underground being tortured by Russians. 
She didn’t get to tell him her other secret that day. They were quickly interrupted yet again by Dustin and thrust back into the madness. 
But it didn’t matter. She knew she’d still have a friend once they saved the world.
-
After Starcourt “burned down” (Robin had to admit, she kind of loved officially being a part of the inner circle. She was now involved in the madness, and even though it was terrifying and awful and traumatic, it was so much more exciting than her world used to be), Robin and Steve decided to keep working together, because of course they did. 
He had her secret, and she had his. He still didn’t know about that second part though.
They got a job at Family Video, thanks to her excellent ability to think on her feet and ramble until people gave her what she wanted. Keith was relatively easy to persuade. 
After she came out to him and they became best buds, reading his mind developed into more of an echo all the time when it was just the two of them, because he told her everything he was thinking exactly the way he thought it. 
There was only one thing he left out. 
Tom Cruise is so hot. Oh God, do I have a kink for dudes named Tom? 
Then, after Eddie Munson came in a few times - Huh, okay. There goes the Tom theory.
Robin couldn’t take it anymore. So, one day, when Steve was driving her home, she blurted it out.
“Steve, I can read your mind.”
He laughed at first. “What?”
“I can read your mind,” she said. “Just yours.”
“Uhhhh, is this some kind of weird joke?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “I’m - ugh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I - I’ve felt really awful about it, but I’ve been hearing your stupid thoughts ever since Click’s class, and I tried to tell you that day, but then I ended up telling you the other thing, and this felt like too much, and then we became really good friends and honestly it’s barely a thing anymore because we tell each other everything except for -”
“Wait, what??!” 
Yeah, she knew she sounded crazy. 
“Remember that day Mrs. Click called on you to ask which presidents were on Mount Rushmore? And you totally bombed?”
“No,” Steve said. “That kinda thing happened to me like three times a day.”
“Ugh, okay, well -” Robin stuttered, at least grateful he wasn’t kicking her out of the car. “Never mind. It’s just -”
“It’s only me?” he wondered. His voice was different now. “What am I thinking about right now?”
Robin honed in on his inner voice. “You just thought about how you accidentally stepped on a copy of The Breakfast Club and smashed it, and instead of confessing to Keith you told him that John Dover stole it and never gave it back, even though John Dover isn’t real.”
Steve’s eyes went wide.
“Hoooooly shit,” he said. 
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit!” he repeated.
“I know!”
“Oh, my God!”
“I know!”
“Robin, this is insane!”
“I KNOW!!”
The car went quiet as Steve continued to wrap his brain around this. Well, it was quiet to anyone but the two of them. 
Why is it only me?
“I don’t know,” Robin answered.
“Will you quit doing that?”
“I can’t help it!” she shot back. 
Steve took a deep breath. “Okay, so you’ve been reading my mind for years. Got it. Cool. Totally cool.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not telling you.” 
Steve gave a comforting smile. “Oh, yeah. You should be sorry for that.” Robin smacked him in response, and suddenly they were laughing again. 
“Jerk!” she exclaimed. Once their laughter died down, he hummed in amusement. 
"You know, it's really not fair you can read my mind and I can't read yours."
Robin nodded. "Agreed." There was another moment of silence between them.
“Huh,” he said. “Do you think we’re soulmates?”
Robin cocked her head and furrowed her brow in confusion. “What? Ew, Steve no -”
“Not, like, sexy soulmates,” he clarified.
“Sexy soulmates? Really?” she teased. 
“Give me a break, Buckley,” he replied. “I just found out you’ve been in my head for two years, alright? It’s weird.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah.”
“So,” Steve continued. “You knew about the Upside Down stuff before the elevator thing.”
“Yeah.”
“Which means you also probably know…” 
The Tommy thing. 
“Yeah,” she confirmed.
“Stop saying yeah.”
“Okay.”
“I guess I just -” Steve sighed, throwing his head back against the seat. “I guess I’m freaking out a little, cuz like - privacy and all that.”
“I wish I could control it, trust me -”
“No, I know that,” he replied. “I mean, shit, if I could be out of my own head I would be. But, like, I don’t know. It’s kinda nice that you’re in there. Like, if it had to be anyone…”
“It would be your non-sexy soulmate,” Robin concluded with a smirk.
Steve returned it. “Oh, I’m gonna regret that, huh?”
“Forever and ever, babe.”
She couldn’t believe it. Finally, everything was out in the open. It was all up from here, right?
“Okay,” Steve said. “Well. If this is happening whether we like it or not, better put it to good use, right?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” Steve grinned. Robin’s eyes widened as she heard his idea moments before they were spoken.
“Robin, I’m gonna help you talk to girls.”
WHAT?!
-
This was hopeless and humiliating. How Steve was able to convince her this was a good idea, she would never know. 
Tammy had graduated and gone to Nashville or whatever, but Vickie…
They had so much in common! And she was so pretty, and so sweet, and - and they played right next to each other in the marching band!
Of course, Robin could barely squeak a word out whenever Vickie looked her way. Thus, Steve decided she needed to practice. 
He let her take some of the pretty customers instead of keeping them all for himself. At first, it was rough.
Be cool. Act like you don’t even like her.
“I don’t even like you.”
Okay, not like that. 
It got easier, though. Eventually, Robin started to take hold of that classic Harrington charm. She wasn’t getting numbers or anything, but that’s not what it was about. It was their own special thing that they had. A secret mission. An inside joke. A bit they were fully committed to, even if only for their own enjoyment.
It was so weird and ridiculous, but whatever. 
Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington, one-sided mind-reading duo and non-sexy soulmates. Who would have thought?
___________________________
I have no idea who to tag for this (my taglist is based on romantic pairings lmao), so hopefully whoever is interested finds it okay! <3
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spookykoolkat · 10 months
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eddie m. – you're just so sweet
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MDNI!!!! 18+ only! read at ur own risk!
chapter 1: that damn bikini
part two here | main masterlist
dad's friend!eddie munson x daughter!plussize reader
na: first eddie munsons x reader smut, and i'm excited! more parts to this series of course, but pls let me know ur thoughts! suggestions for the next part or upcoming parts, i love feedback!!
warnings: age gap (18 years), reader is 25, eddie is 43, mentions of self image issues, foreplay (fingering), dirty talk, talks of oral sex (f receiving), talks of penetration (p in v), and more!
Wrong. It's just wrong, and you knew why. Eddie had been around for the longest time. Every family party, every dinner, every birthday. He watched you be sent off to college by your parents, he watched you turn eighteen, he watched you learn how to drive, and he watched you turn into a woman. The thing you hated was the fact that he never looked at you the way you wanted him to, and you tried since you turned 18.
It was so annoying. He saw you grow into a woman yet still paid no mind to the little girl in the house, focusing on his friendship with your parents, more specifically your father. Now, you're back from living in California for a week just in time for your mother's birthday. She was turning 47, your dad standing at 50, and Eddie standing at 43. And here you were, at the store at a whopping 25 years old, buying booze for the parents and the parents friends. You handed the cashier a crisp 100 dollar bill and took the brown paper bag after being handed your change and receipt.
Get your shit together.
It's been a long day, and it's going to be an even longer night, especially with Eddie being inevitably being there. It's been almost 5 years since Eddie last saw you, and now it's become clear you've grown into yourself. You were bigger—everywhere. Bigger breasts, bigger thighs, bigger stomach, bigger arms, bigger ass—anything that could've grown, grew times five. You embraced your weight, your lifestyle, your body, and you knew that no matter what you looked like, you felt like you. But the closer you approached your parents very large house, the closer you felt you were walking into a bear trap willingly. There was a part of you that appreciated the fact that your father's friend wasn't a creep. He wasn't counting down the days you turned 18, like you thought. You thought maybe you'd turn 18 and that he'd try dropping hints, or acknowledging you in the way you wanted. But nothing.
It was maddening. The last time you saw him was on Christmas break from college, and he gifted you a bracelet with your UNI colors. Innocent, small gift to show he cared about you, but also almost setting a boundary.
But now pulling into your family's neighborhood, you spot the house you grew up in and the four cars parked out in front. One black truck belonging to Eddie himself, the other three belonging to your mom and dad. You wondered if he was still the punk rock, shirtless auto-mechanic, guitar playing Eddie. Maybe he'd grown out of the black nail polish and long shag he had, maybe he'd become a business man rather than an occasional entertainer by night and a body shop owner by day. You knew Eddie had been a metalhead since his high school days, you overheard conversations about his bandmates who were also his high school friends, about his endless partying and drinking era, you heard everything. It made you wonder if you had been in high school when he was, would he have looked your way?
"It's fine, it's just a week. You can do this," you breathed, parking on the curb and grabbing your purse and the bag of booze, stepping out into the humid hot air of Texas.
The entire walk to the front door was like walking on pins and needles, it was agonizing because the entire time you were imagining just what Eddie would say seeing you. It wasn't that you had never met another man, you weren't a virgin and hadn't been for a long time. It was the fact that every man you fucked, you were bored. It was abrupt, painful and not good pain, dry, no effort, no foreplay, no love. You hated it, but still indulged for something to scratch the itch you had.
You knocked on the door and three seconds later, it opens to your mothers face.
"Oh, baby doll you're here!" She squeals, her short frame hugging you tight as you hug her back
"Happy birthday mama, I love you," You say and kiss her head. That's when you look up and see him. He was exactly the same. Sporting a wife beater with a very worn black flannel and black cargo pants, his hair curly and long still in his shapely shag, his eyes wide and puppy like as he stares you down as if he'd never seen you before. To be fair, he never saw you like this. Eddie Munson never looked at you as anything more than his friends daughter, his buddy's kid.
"Hey kid," He said, sporting a small smile as he soaks you up. Eddie was even a little confused, wondering why he himself was taking in your person more than usual. He was a single man in his early forties, still refusing to get with a woman if she doesn't at least know a single metal song. He had standards, they were low, but standards by any means.
Your mother lets go and grabs the bag of booze, releasing you to greet Eddie. You go to embrace him, your face hitting his silver chains sitting on his sternum.
"Hey Munson," You said, a small smile in your voice and he wraps his arms around you tight, lifting you off your feet like you were a kid and spun you.
"That really you kid? Didn't even recognize you with the new bling on your face," he joked, setting you to stand on your feet with his help of stabilizing you.
He poked the new metal through your face on both eyebrows and your septum. He flicks them with an intrigued gaze, and you swat his hand.
"Yeah, guess I'm just like someone I know," and you take your finger to flick at his single brow piercing he got over the years. You always admired his accessories, as you called them. His tattoos, his piercing, his scars, his rings. You remembered when you spent days looking out your window at the man who was your neighbor, mowing your and his lawn, plucking weeds, and even occasional gardening. You saw the way he sweat and how it made his tattoos glossy, wanting to trace over all of them with just your fingers.
"Mm, I'm flattered sweetheart. Taking after your old man huh?" He said as he finally took a small glance at your body. You noticed of course, but he thought he was slick as ice.
"Something like that. Just coming into my own." You smile, backing up a little as you remembered your bags.
"Yeah, that I can tell," he mumbles under his breath.
"Huh?" You asked, hearing a small grumble from him that he didn't expect you to hear.
"Oh, uh, you have your bags right? I'll get em for you. You just sit and look pretty," He grins, gliding past you fast enough for you to get a whiff of the smell of weed and cologne and smoke. You almost felt like a cartoon character smelling a pie from a window sill, how were you going to do this?
He wasn't sure the emotions he was feeling as of now were appropriate or not. As he opened the trunk of your small car, he pulled the pink suitcase out as well as a black backpack you had. Packing light, he noticed. How long were you staying? And how did you turn into a woman over night?
He was ashamed to admit to himself he thought about feeling every curve of your body when he had his arms around you. Fighting the urge, he resulted to the lift and spin. Eddie never looked at anyone at all. Let alone a woman almost twenty years younger than him. He was cursing at himself every step back into the house after shutting the trunk, telling himself to cool it, relax.
"I can take them up to my room, thank you." You said looking up at him, reaching for the handle of the suitcase.
"Nah, no can do, who would I be if I let you do this yourself?" He shunned, nudging your hand away with his elbow, his hand gripping the strap of the backpack.
Eddie decided to drag your suitcase up the stairs while humming to some song that didn't ring a bell for you, and you followed. You weren't as nervous anymore, not feeling any need to be. You knew nothing would happen between you two, and you were, not happy about it, but okay about it.
"Where to, madam?" He asked, stopping in the hall of where four doors are.
"Straight down, first door to the right." You announced, scooting past him to lead into the room. When you made your way past him, he felt the graze of your hips hitting his, and the whiff of a sweet smelling fragrance, something close to something citrusy. You were tempting him and you didn't even know.
He wasn't stupid. He noticed you didn't look how you did before. He noticed the weight gain but with the weight, came height, and with height came growth everywhere. It was true what they said about turning 25, the second growth spurt turned you into the person you'll be for a while. And he noticed yours. But Eddie—he didn't see it the way your mother did, or even your old friends.
"We should go to the gym together, maybe start our diets at the same time."
"You're not sad are you? You're getting big, baby."
"You ever asked your doctor about how to lose weight?"
"What happened, mami? You used to be so skinny!"
He finally saw you. You were a fucking woman. You acted like it too, he heard it in your voice, saw it in your face. He saw it in your clothes, in your curves, the thickness you had everywhere. He almost salivated at it until you started trying to snap him out of his daze.
"You can put them right there, I said," You repeated, and Eddie gave a small breathy chuckle as he nodded and walked into the pink room filled with stuffed animals, posters, knick knacks and figurines.
"Nice room, missy." He said, setting down your backpack on the vanity chair pushed into the large desk.
"Didn't know you were such a fan of pink, ya know. You screamed more," He stopped and paused to think, pointer finger tapping his chin.
"I'll say light blue. More oceanic, lochness monster type thing." He said, making his way to the door. He noticed the reality of being a grown man in her childhood bedroom, and decided this was enough boundary pushing. You didn't know how sexy his aesthetic would be clashing against your girly pink room, seeing him so out of place was almost enjoyable.
"Well, let me know if you need anything, I'll be helping your parents set up everything for this ragerrrr," He says, sticking his tongue out and putting his fingers up to form the rockstar pose, bored.
"Right. I'll help too I just-" You started but he shook his head dramatically.
"Uh uh, I'm the guest, I'll help. You just get dressed so your mom doesn't flip on you for being late to her birthday party," he pointed at you and shot a small finger gun, making you laugh softly.
"Yeah, okay. See you," you said and he nodded,
"Back at you."
❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥
The pool was already being used by your guests, your mothers friends, their spouses and two to three kids playing in the grass. You watched from the window on the second floor facing the large backyard with people much older than you, drinking, socializing, and your father on the barbecue pit with Eddie Munson himself beside him. His sleeves were rolled up with a rag hanging out of his back pocket just like a chain in his other.
You were done getting ready at this time, three in the afternoon, and really all you did was put on a red two piece, a knitted black halter dress over, and some black platform sandals. Your hair was kept in a high bun with a clip and your face only had a touch of blush and lip gloss. You figured a full face would be a bit ridiculous since you plan on getting in the water and laying by the pool. You grabbed a towel from your closet and started to head out to the backyard.
"You're here!!" One of your mothers friends shouted the minute you slid open the backdoor, a smiling woman heading your way to pinch your cheeks and ask you all about college.
While you were distracted, Eddie followed as his eyes led him to you. Your father was talking his ear off and the minute his eyes reached you, it all sounded like he was underwater. No music, no chit chat, no birds. He heard nothing but gargles and muted voices as he watched you greet the older women. For Eddie, it felt like everything was in slow motion.
Even slower when you finally broke free from the women and made your way to an empty side of the pool.
"Ed, turn the fucking burger," Your father nudged Eddie, forcing him to whip his head around to the burning meat on the grill to flip and let the other side cook. He couldn't be doing this, he couldn't be watching you the way he was but the minute your father leaves to get another beer, his eyes went searching for you again. And when he found you, he felt his heart sink.
You stood there at the edge of the pool, in a tied up two piece bikini that was fire red, your arms up as your hands dance in your hair to pull the clip from within. The groan he let out was almost something he couldn't tell actually happened or not, but it was a low guttural groan. A hungry groan. He almost looked around to see if anyone saw what he saw, but realized everyone here is pushing 50. Of course they wouldn't be looking. But he was, and he was angry.
How dare you walk out in something of that nature? Skimpy, small, two pieces of cloth practically hiding nothing. Eddie could not pull his eyes off of you, and he didn't want to. It truly felt like he didn't know you, he didn't know this woman. He only knew you as the kid who rode on her bike in the early 2000s.
But that wasn't you anymore. You had a degree, you had a job, you drank and did drugs, you've had sex—a lot. You weren't a kid anymore, and he saw it now. He took particular interest in the way the bikini top did you so much justice, the way the fabric was pressed into your skin made him itch to rub himself in the way you had. He was enamored with you, with every step you took, your skin jiggled and moved. He liked seeing you like this more than he'd like to admit, he was enjoying this little show you didn't even know you were putting on. Without realizing, Eddie started ferociously eating the bag of chips that sat next to him, watching your every move as you test the waters with your toes, adjusting your bathing suit so you wouldn't flash anyone. His eyes were drowned in lust and want, and he was thinking about everything but your body in his hands so his little Eddie wouldn't tell on himself.
"Alright, they're done. Put em in the pan and take them inside," Your father ordered just as you had turned to walk towards the stairs of the pool. Eddie found himself distracted, by his own daughter, and moved the bag of chips to face his friend.
"Right, er, let me get them set," Eddie spoke, placing all the meat in the pan and taking them to be put inside so your mother can dress them and set up the food table.
You on the other hand, watched as he took them inside. Your feet dipping into the pool as he finally entered the house, you decided to fully submerge yourself just for a bit so you could get the heat off of you for a second, you'd do anything to get out of this heat. It wasn't like Cali, the air was dry and hot but this, Texas heat ruined you. The humidity, the heat, and the quality of air just did not mix well. The minute you came up, he was right back out again, drinking his beer and talking with your father. Your hands go to clear your face and rub your hands to slick back your hair, deciding to swim about a little as people start to clear the pool area to go and eat or drink more.
You enjoyed the emptiness of the pool and the sound of music blasting in the background, you ended up getting a little too relaxed and started to float mindlessly, letting your body lift with no hesitation.
Eddie decided to go home to change out of his clothes, the ones before him smelling like barbecue and rust. As he walks past the pool to go home, his eyes rake over your loose body now. Your eyes were closed and your arms were spread out, floating and relaxing, and he loved it.
When he got home, he put on a simple black tee with his faded leather jacket, black straight let jeans and his regular boots he wore without a fail. It was fast, quick, he wanted to return as fast as possible after cleaning up a bit and see you again. The fact that no conversation has really been ignited between the two of you was kind of bothering him, so once he came back he looked to find you out of the pool, lounging on one of the long white chairs lined against the right side of the pool. How odd did he feel sitting in the chair next to you layered in clothes, while you were two tugs away at being naked and bare. He did it anyways.
"You gonna stare or say something?" You asked, your hands blocking the sun from your eyes as you opened them to turn to his face.
"You remembered to use sunscreen?" He asked awkwardly. You raised an eyebrow.
"Uh, yeah. Did you remember it's one hundred degrees in Texas and you're wearing all black. And a leather jacket?" You asked in a snarky tone, closing your eyes and letting your arm fall to your side.
"Mmm, I don't dress for the weather sweetness," The pet names were just pouring from his mouth at this point. He didn't want just to call you sweetheart and doll. He wanted to call you these things while you called out for him, against him.
"I see that."
"Don't think I've ever seen this set before," he said lowly, looking around almost to see if anyone heard him.
You did though. It made you curious. How couldn't it? He noticed your bathing suit, or lack thereof, and noticed your body. He'd been watching you.
"S' new, got it when I grew out of my other one. Didn't cover what I needed to hide so," You trailed off, eyes closed yet still feeling his wide eyes on you, and your body that carried rolls and cellulite, stretch marks and prominent tummy. You almost got a little self conscious being under his gaze, but still you trusted that he had no desire to you for any reason. He was just your fathers friend checking up on his friend's daughter, innocent, simple.
"Can't imagine what the other one looked like if it didn't cover anything up," the tone in his voice sounded different. More, protective? Possessive? Maybe you were deluding yourself of what you were hearing, maybe he just wanted to be an asshole and tell you to cover up more.
"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, blocking the sun from your eyes again to glance at Eddie. He's sitting facing you, his elbows on his knees with a drink in his hand.
"Nothing doll, I'll let you get back to your... whatever it is you're doing," He stood up and motioned with his hand, then left like nothing. Except it wasn't nothing. Except he had your full body engrained in his mind, replaying the mental screenshot he took, drinking you in as he walked towards the back of the yard, watching everyone including you. You went back to tanning, laying in the sun to earn a small change in your skin tone, something you don't do often because you never have the chance.
Eddie on the other hand did everything in his power to avoid his gaze from landing on you. He found himself growing a little obsessed with the way your body moved in that sad excuse of a bikini, how your breasts threatened to push themselves out of your top, how the curve of your ass kept the bikini bottom in place with every movement. He made a mental note of the way your stomach looked, how a bit of your lower tummy showed past the designated area of the small bottom, how pretty his hands would look squeezing and touching it while his head was sitting between your thighs. He thought you were gorgeous, there was no way a girl like you existed right under his nose. But Eddie never failed to keep his eyes on you, studying you, admiring you, wanting you.
As the party went on, it seemed like it got even more heated. By 7PM, the friends with kids were gone, and the friends who had nothing else to do were still drinking and dancing. You saw your mom in the crowd with your father, dancing as they pleased. You pretty much stayed by the pool all day, making it harder for Eddie to focus on the women trying to get him to talk. But you avoided Eddie's gaze even though you knew it stayed on you the entire day. It kind of bugged you honestly, you truly wondered why he'd be staring at you for so long if there was no attraction there.
"Yeah, uh, work's fine," He mumbled to the woman who looked about like she was in her late 30s, someone age appropriate. She wasn't ugly of course, he actually found her pretty cute, but he knew you were right there. The light of the sun going down dimming and shining golden on you made you look like you were godsend. Lying out with a knee raised and an arm thrown over your face, you felt tired and almost drained by the sun, but he kept watch.
"So-"
"Listen, you're really cute and I think if things were different, I'd be waaaaay more into this. It's not you, it's me?" He said, kind of shimmying away from this lady and on his way to get another beer.
While he dug in the coolers for a cold bottle, he sees a hand reach down and grab a Corona, one that he traced back to your body. His eyes raked over your body up close as he was trying to meet your eyes, and as he looked up at you from his crouched position, he let out a small, shy chuckle.
"Hey," He said as he pulled out a Bud Light, opening it swiftly with his shirt as he rose to his normal stature.
"Hiya," You stated. You were standing in your halter dress again, platforms hanging off two of your fingers with a beer in the other hand. It was a bit cooler at night, less humid, and your feet touched the bare grass as you stood.
"You're not a pool person huh? I know you have a pool at your place, don't use it much do you?" You asked, a little bit of a buzz coursing through your body after your third beer.
Eddie takes the beer from you, setting his down and opening yours before handing it back to you. He picks his up again and takes a swig while looking at you through the bottle.
"You watchin' me, aren't you?" He smiled, the rings on his fingers squeezing the neck of the bottle. All you could really think about was the way that hand would look squeezing all over your body, feeling the metal against you, how large his hands were compared to yours. You couldn't tell if it was the Texas heat making you hot or the thought of him fucking into you with his ringed hand squeezing your throat.
"Probably not as much as you were today, but, ya know. Just a little," The confidence raked through you more than usual and he noticed. But Eddie loved it. The coolers were a little more in a solitary area, many of the people still here are in the opposite direction, drunk and dancing. The two of you stood across from each other, cooler length apart. Eddie took his time gazing at you up close before he answered.
"Sorry for that, I, uh, I didn't think you'd notice." Eddie said shamefully, tapping his ring against the bottle as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"I actually didn't think you'd notice." You said, emphasizing a certain syllable.
He scrunched his eyebrows at you, tilting his head like a puppy,
"Notice what exactly?" He asked and you took a swig of your beer before answering.
"Me. You know, the fact that I'm not a kid anymore. But I think you did notice. You think I look ridiculous huh?" You laugh, shaking your head until he softly grabs your face, turning you to him. He wasn't laughing. Eddie 'the freak' Munson wasn't laughing at a self degrading joke, something he practically trademarked.
"Why would I think you look ridiculous?" He asked, searching your face for the answers if you decided to not reply.
"In this little bathing suit, when I'm like, two sizes too big to probably wear stuff like this," You said honestly, knowing it took you a bit to wear things like a two piece. You look down at yourself, seeing the top of your breasts and protruding stomach, all of the sudden feeling a little insecure to be around Eddie.
"At least that's what everyone says, but I don't really pay much attention to them. I like myself." You finished and looked up at him to be searching you like he was looking for something.
"You don't look ridiculous, princess," He took a breath and moved his hand to touch the crease of your waist briefly.
"You look, yeah I mean, you look real pretty like this. Grew into your own person. Nothin' more sexy than that," He earned a laugh from you, your hand touching him ever so slightly that he could feel a small jolt of electricity.
"So you think I'm sexy?" You remarked with a smile, eyeing him as he eyed you.
"You don't even wanna know, sweetheart." He said honestly. You really didn't, you really didn't want to know how much he wanted to fuck you in your pool so he could watch your tits bounce out of that top.
"Why not?" You asked, sipping again.
"Cus I'm an old man, my opinion doesn't matter. It's those younger men your age that matter." He said, trying to save himself from a situation he can't come back from.
"I guess so. You know, college guys are so... odd. Maybe just guys in general. Didn't realize how many chubby chasers there were until after the fact. But, I don't know, I haven't been focused on that really," you mentioned as you leaned against the brick wall to steady yourself. You took another drink out of your bottle, and he watched you.
"Why not, these guys not doing it for you or what?" He joked, pulling out a joint from his leather pocket and you smiled.
"They're just.. mmph, this is embarrassing but they're just not, skilled? I mean, can I be honest? Like you're a guy, older, and you know, I guess," You rambled, unsure how to phrase the question as he sparks up.
"Mm I love honesty, hit me," He pulled a long drag from the joint, inhaling and passing to you. Yes, he was getting high with a 25 year old, and he knew how it sounded. But this time was different, because he saw you as a woman and not just his friend's daughter.
"Well, okay. Well. Um. Fuck okay. The only way I'm able to cum or like, orgasm or whatever, is when I'm making myself do it. The guys I've fucked were kind of like— it didn't take longer than 15 minutes. Sometimes not even 10. I guess I'm tired of being like, their token fat girl to sleep with. Feels like I'll never know what enjoyable sex is like," You sort of mumbled the last part, taking the J and hitting it twice, passing it back to Eddie, only Eddie doesn't take it. He's kind of stuck actually.
Here you were, telling him you'd never been pleasured in the way you deserved because these new 'men' couldn't care less about you? That every sexual encounter you had was a mere loss, probably making you feel dirty and gross after.
"Eddie?" You asked and he shook out his thoughts, taking the joint and sitting on the cooler next to you as you stood on the other side of the cooler.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it awkward or-" You started but he hummed.
"No, not at all. Just that—I mean really? They never made you cum?" His tone shifted, it was like he was becoming feral at the thought.
"I, no. Been living my life like this, yes I know. But. It's fine, kinda accepted I'll be the only one making myself cum." You noted, looking around to see if there was anyone and there wasn't. They were all towards the back of the yard, which was sort of hidden from this angle. You took back the joint from his hand, and once you put it between your lips, Eddie got up and basically pinned you against himself and the brick wall.
"I think, that maybe, just maybe all these guys you're fucking aren't what you need, doll." He breathed, his breath a mixture of weed and beer. He was too far gone to control himself, to not press against you, to not feel you. He needed you in that moment, and he needed to prove to you that you are not the token fat girl. That you are not a fetish, you are not a lifestyle choice. He needed to show you what it was like to feel pleasured, and to feel needed at the same time.
"You're right." You took a hit from the joint, blowing the smoke in his face looking to search his expression. He almost seemed angry, or bothered. It wasn't abnormal for him but, you couldn't tell if it was at you. This was your moment though, a moment of opportunity to really show him that you'd been chasing after him since you were 18. You pull the joint from your lips and place them between his.
"I think I need a man. Preferably someone in their forties, who smokes weed and listens to metal bands, maybe someone who even lived right next door to me." You mocked, suddenly getting a burst of confidence as his eyes go dark and he takes a drag from the joint, blowing it in another direction.
"How long have you needed this man, hm?" He asked keenly after putting the joint out on the wall behind you. His nose dipped down to the crease of where your neck and jaw meet, smelling you ever so slightly. His hands are placed on either side of you, his chest basically pressing against yours as you realize you're trapped in his grasp right now, with nothing but two pieces of fabric covering you up.
"A long time." You admitted and his lips go down, pressing into your collarbone as you sighed. Was this real? Was he really kissing the skin you dreamed of him kissing? Did he truly want you? You wished maybe it'd gone different, maybe you wouldn't have wanted him inside you at your mothers birthday party, but who are you to decide when things happen?
"Such a sweet girl. I've been, fighting myself this whole night. Been trying to avoid being near you before anyone noticed I was eye fucking you. You are the fucking definition of temptation. You fucking reek of sex. You're just," he paused and kissed more over the skin of your chest, stopping at the crook of your neck.
"You're so fucking beautiful too, so sexy, so fucking sexy. I wanna feel you baby, let me feel you, let me fill you." He whispered, his hands going from either side of you to your wide hips, squeezing softly as he caresses the skin behind your knitted dress.
"I'll be whatever you need me to be, princess, you ask and you will receive." He kept his hands steady on your waist, regardless of how much he wanted to feel all of you in his hands right fucking now against this wall. At this point, he moved his hands to rub the sides of your body, tracing every curve with his hands.
"I need, fuck Eddie I need you. I always have. Please," you nearly begged, the weed in your system making it easier to drown out your surroundings while his hand snaked down to the front of your bikini.
"Yeah? You'd let me take you right here against this wall? Keep you quiet with these little bottoms you got on," He growls, dipping down into your bikini to rub your mound as he goes lower and lower. Your mouth fixed into an 'O', moaning and humming as his fingers danced around your cunt.
"Didn't know my baby was so soft, or how much you craved me. Let me make you feel good princess, let me ruin you and show you just how good it can be." You couldn't speak, all you could do was whine and nod.
"Aw baby, that was cute. With words sweetheart, need to hear ya with words," He taunts, his finger teasing over your wet slit. His nose is pressed up against your neck, his tongue sliding over the skin below your ear as he uses his other hand to grab your ass.
"Please, Eds, I need you. Show me, show me everything please," you begged, your back sliding down the brick a bit before he stops you, holding you in place with his other hand.
"You want it right here, pretty girl? Right where anyone could see? Want me to finger fuck you in your own backyard?" He growled almost, sending a wave of pleasure through you when he finally rubs two digits all over your wet pussy.
"Yes, god yes I don't give a fuck, I need you inside me," You cried, your arms going up around his neck to steady yourself once you feel his fingers spread your lips and rub around your labia and your clit. You knew he knew what he was doing, he'd done this before and knew the way to drive women crazy. What you didn't know was that you were equally driving each other crazy. Your subconscious whines and pleads, the way you were almost grinding against his hand, you tugging and pulling his body closer as you feel the small butterfly feeling in your tummy. Everything you were doing was perfect, you were absolute perfection to him. He didn't know he craved you this bad until you were moaning his name, asking—no, begging him for more.
"Mm, my baby needs me stretching this hole out huh? Let's see how you take my fingers, baby, then we'll see if you'll let me fit inside this pretty pussy," He said moving his head from your neck to see his fingers working your clit in your bottoms. He moved his head again to look at you and the expression on your face, and he knew it was a mistake because he could've blown his load right there. Eddie hadn't even started finger fucking you yet you were already soaked, face red and hot, hair disheveled and your mouth agape. You honestly put him in a trance, he'd do absolutely anything for you.
Eddie teased a bit more until your eyes started to turn glossy, your breaths were getting heavier and the minute you inhaled again, he sunk his two digits into your hole and watched with an open mouthed smile as you threw your head back against the brick and squirmed.
"Ahhh, there she is. Look at you," He said proudly, beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out of you, giving you time to adjust. Eddie knows you're not a virgin, but it sure fucking feels like it.
"Such a big girl, doing so good for me taking my fingers like this. You look so pretty like this yaknow'? Can't believe nobody's made you cum the way you deserve, and that it's gonna be me showing you how enjoyable sex can truly be," He was so genuine, you could tell.
"Eddie, fuck, please please fuck me, I need your dick," You begged softly and he bit his lip, groaning with you.
You felt his hardened cock straining against his pants as he pulled himself closer to you, adding an edge to your pleasure because you got nervous. Your daddy's friend is standing pressed against you in hardly nothing with his fingers stretching you out, your wetness dripping down Eddie's hand the faster and deeper he goes.
"Yeah? You need my dick, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me and make a mess all over my dick?" He asked, moving his other hand to grope your chest. He got a little fed up with the knitted dress you wore and pulled it to the side to free your breast, snatching the bikini top to the side to let your tit fall out gracefully. He was fucking in love. The way your body jerked against his hand made your body move with it, jiggling and moving in a way he only imagined it would look when he fucks into you from below.
"Please, Eddie, I wan' it, you're gonna make me, ugh fuck, can I please cum?" You begged, your eyes meeting his. He was just watching you, listening to your moans being muffled by the music that seems to never stop playing. Until he dipped his head down and started to suck on the skin of your tit, fixing his lips and tongue to wrap around your hardened nipple. He tugged, bit, sucked all on your tit until he formed purple bruises on it. He didn't have the words to describe the feeling he had right now, he felt like he died and went to heaven watching you squirm and hearing your voice beg for him. Eddie had never felt this urge and eagerness to slip inside someone as bad as he wanted to right now, to sit you down on his lap and fuck into you like that, or to press you against this wall and take you from behind. He never had the desire to truly fuck someone the way he wanted to, never knew what buttons to push for someone to want him the way he wanted others. But you, you wanted him in a way that was sinful to anyone who heard or witnessed it.
You needed him to ruin you, to fill you up with his cum, to make you his.
"Fuck, my pretty girl wants to give me her cum? That it? You can do whatever you want baby, cum all on my fuckin' fingers right fucking now," He snarled as he took his mouth from your tit, to your ear, almost grinding his own hard on against the crevice of your hip. You felt him take his thumb and rub on your clit, leaving your holes empty until you started clenching on air.
"Eddie! Are you still here?" You both heard a voice from up top, your father on the balcony looking over to scan the yard. You looked up and saw him basically right on top of you, and you looked to Eddie with wide eyes as his fingers still worked on your clit.
"Don't let daddy hear you baby, cum on my fingers for me, be a good girl for me. Show me how much you want me to fuck you into my bed," He picked the pace up and held you tight as he noticed you were starting to come undone.
"Eddiee, fuck Eddie I'm-" You were kind of loud, so he pressed his lips against yours when he slid his fingers back in, feel you tighten around him as you gripped his waist, kissing him back but moaning into his mouth once you felt yourself let go.
But he didn't stop kissing you. He kept his lips on yours, almost locked in a trance as he pulled his fingers out of you. That's when he pulled away, but only to take his fingers in his mouth and lick up any of your juices that leaked onto him. You just watched, breathless, barely holding yourself up as he released his fingers with a pop. He fixed your bikini and dress for you, moving to fix your bottoms as well so that you weren't exposed for anyone else.
Eddie felt like he was in love the minute he tasted you on his tongue. He knew he couldn't just stop there, he couldn't just finger you and that's it. He needed all of you, and he needed you in every way he could have you. You held onto his waist and his hands snaked onto your waist, looking down at your flushed chubby face, looking for something.
"I, thank you. That was, um, really good," You shyed away from him saying that. Complimenting him on his ability to make you cum felt embarrassing, but he turned your head by your chin to face him, and he placed soft kisses by your lips and in your cheeks.
You couldn't believe Eddie Munson, just made you cum on his fingers. You didn't believe yourself really, it almost felt like you blacked out and when you woke up he was there. But you were awake, present and very much aware of his mouth and fingers and his cock straining to be released.
"Ya know, I think the next time I taste you I want it to be with you riding my face," He smiled, moving your hair back behind your ear.
"You were just so fucking sweet," he kissed your cheek and pulled away from you, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks and chest again.
"Wha-" You questioned but your father yelled out again.
"Eddie?" Eddie looked up and had an angry look on his face, kissing you one last time before releasing you and leaving. But he turns towards you, wanting to say something, anything. He just wanted to see you again, from afar this time. You look so exhausted, your back still against the brick wall, your legs pressed together, your hands in your hair. You looked fucking amazing and if it wasn't for your dad, he'd be face deep in your cunt right against that wall.
"I'll see you, sweetheart."
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spoiledblogif · 3 months
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This is the development blog for the interactive fiction called "The Second Sight", which you can find on itch.io at the link above!
This is my first IF project, although I've been writing original stories and fanfiction for years.
I've included the story description and character profiles from the itch page below the cut.
This blog will be a combination of development info, images and music that I associate with the story, and other musings.
Fair warning, there might be spoilers from the latest chapters here, so I recommend catching up before reading too far.
Asks and submissions are always open.
You’re an urban legend in a county full of them.  When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.
Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers.  You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons.  You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.
However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.
✤✤✤
The Second Sight is an urban fantasy story, where you step into the role of a psychic whose strange powers have always separated them from others. Those same powers will drag you down the rabbit hole and into a world that is both the familiar and foreign to everything you know. A world filled with magic, witches, fae, demons, and the unknown.
You can immerse yourself in the story by customizing your protagonist's general appearance, choosing how they interact with others, and whether you lean on logic or intuition to problem solve. There are three love interests planned (more may be added depending on player reception and feedback), the genders of which will be selected by the player upon meeting them.
Characters
Jacob Carter
Age: Late forties
Race: Human. Definitely.
Gender: Male
Temperament: Carter radiates grizzled, old bastard energy and despite being the least paternal person in the world, he is your adoptive father. While harsh and aloof on the surface, he is also fiercely protective of you and has bent over backwards to give a decent life to a kid that isn't even his. He doesn't talk about his life before coming to Herman County and you haven't asked him, though that might change soon enough...
✤✤✤
Zander/Zora
Age: Late twenties.
Race: Human.
Appearance: Umber brown skin, black locs, grey eyes
Temperament: Gentle and resolute, Z isn't what you imagine when you think of an agent of the mysterious Magic and Anomalies Bureau. Kind, soft-spoken, and exceedingly polite, Z is Carter's former apprentice and something about them puts the old man on edge.
✤✤✤ Renard/Rowan
Age: Appears to be in their late twenties or early thirties
Race: Human. Maybe.
Appearance: Tall and slender, white-blonde hair, and gold eyes.
Temperament: Playful and flirtatious, talking to R always feels like a game of cat and mouse and you can never be sure which role is yours. Part sad clown, part trickster, and always maddening to work with, the only things you can be certain of with R is that they probably know what they're doing. Everything else is up in the air.
✤✤✤
Unknown aka "The Kestrel"
Age: ???
Race: Definitely not human.
Appearance: Tall, beautiful, elegant, with black hair and black eyes.
Temperament: The Kestrel is a complete unknown. It's impossible to say whether they are a lethal ally or deadly enemy, but either way they are a powerful dreamwalker. You don't know how long they've been watching you, but you're willing to bet that it's been longer than you're comfortable with.
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Who would you think would most likely to baby trap their barling in Obey me? Take your top four pick and why?
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The tactic of baby-trapping is a hefty one. One that pales in comparison to these devils' powers and connection to you with their pacts. In the devil dom, they already have an advantage over you anyway so this is more of a psychological thing. Whether it's to satisfy his psyche or to control yours these are my top picks…
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Mammon
He is the avatar of greed 
who better than he to own you in a way that actually manifests a child
“Better off sticking with me! You’ll need my help to raise the coolest little copy of me!” 
Its honestly probably an accident 
But as long as he gets to keep you by his side so be it
At first, he’s just not fully aware of the responsibilities that come with having a baby
And boy is he winded
He can’t run out because you and Lucifer are willing to chain him down to help
So he’ll suffer the long nights and the wailing as you both just get used to raising an infant
But once he gets past the dread he’s elated
Not only does the love of his life stay by his side forever but he has a cute kid to prove it
He won’t tell you that though
“Hah?! Love ‘em? I tolerate the little booger at best! Hey! Don’t hold him like that, you’ve got to be gentle!”
A doting father to the max 
and even being more attentive if not more obsessive with you
“I bet you thought the great Mammon would leave you to rot! Fear not I only left to get takeout…and diapers.”
“Mammon!”
“...and the heads of those demons that were talkin’ bad about ya…”
“Mammon!”
“What?! It was on the way!”
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Asmodeus
Oddly enough he does it because of self-esteem 
Whether it's yours or his it's up to you
If it's yours he’s just tired of you looking down on yourself
And using it as an excuse not to be with him
Well if you're so certain you're not the most gorgeous human in existence then why are you pregnant with the child of the most beautiful devil in devil dom
If it's not your self esteem it's his 
Your divine.
He knows it you know it
And so does everyone else 
He’s not afraid of you beating him
He’s afraid of the crowd that follows
“Wow (Y/n)-chan your so popular…they seem to like you an awful lot...”
He’s never felt so insecure about himself before
How will the world know your his 
…better than with a product of your bond
“Wow! Aren’t they the cutest?! They’ve got my looks!” 
Youtuber kid all the way
Your child is more likely to be on more magazine covers than their father himself
Which makes it harder to escape if that was ever an option in the first place
But that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t feel the need to pick off your most avid fans
Especially the fans and theorists that notice your worried gaze and the possessive hold on your hip
“Oya you really captured their emotions that way! Too bad we can’t have you ruining their Winter debutant. Don’t be too sad! You are having the most beautiful demon be the one to end your worthless ugly life.”
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Barbatos
Even with your summoner status, he’s a tough demon to beat
The power of time and teleportation are on his side
Which can make for a maddening punishment if you try to escape him
“Oh, so you insist on running, then? Fine but I’m not privy to keep doing this with you.”
Its also just easier to keep your mind on him this way
Since you're so insistent on trying to run he might as well make it impossible for you to do so 
Emotionally at first
This doubles as his claim to ownership and a way to halt you from running ever again
As a butler to the king, everything he has is to serve his master
Even you are allowed to be in his possession its because his master lets him or doesn’t know
But a child
His and your child 
That's something he can fully own
It works with your mind as well
Leaving you to either make the heartless decision to abandon your child 
or to stay and have no choice but to grapple with this constant piece of him 
That is if he lets it get that bad
Again with time as a tool, he can make it so everything he says and does makes perfect sense
“Let’s have a baby, my love. It’d be death all over again if you won’t indulge me.” 
“Oh Barbs, I was thinking just the same!”
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Diavolo
Has to be given the idea
It's not going to be his first thought
“Won’t that be cool! Then we could be together all the time! Just the three of us!”
Whether its Barbatos or you scoffing at his behavior something gives him the bright idea
Like most things, he’ll be upfront
He doesn’t really need to stake his claim 
He’s the prince of devil dom 
The very clothes on your back say you belong irrevocably to him
it's more like he believes it’ll make your relationship better
You’ll be more willing to have fun not run if your child demands it
Right?
“Wow! Good job you managed to get them all in perfect order!” 
“Good job!? They killed half the staff for a demented dominoes game!”
“...”
“That's a bad thing!”
“R-right! That's a bad thing just like your mother says!”
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Note
hi!! do you have any fic recs for non-bau!reader x spencer? i’m not too picky just would love to read about navigating a domestic relationship with an agent while being entirely NOT in that field! so maybe something fluffy (but never opposed to smutty). thank you in advanced 🧚‍♀️
Hey friend! I've compiled most of my Civilian!Reader fics here, although I will say not a lot of them focus on the difficulties navigating the job. For that, you'll find the most luck with my two most popular series below. Otherwise, it's a somewhat eclectic group of fics, which I hope you can still enjoy ❤️
If anyone has any favorite fics that the anon might be interested in, please share them in the comments or reblogs! Self-promotion is always welcome!
S.R. Series (NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI)
The Birds & The Bees (ongoing series): Prof!Spencer, Virgin!Reader. Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.
Here to Misbehave (completed series): Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.
S.R. SFW Oneshots
Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.
Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.
Devil’s Advocate: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else.
Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.
Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.
Haunted: Spencer’s never told anyone what happened in prison.
Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.
Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.
It’s Personal: Reader reminds Spencer’s team that it’s never appropriate to ask someone for their age, even if they’re dating their coworker.
Java Jive: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.
Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.
Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.
Not Your Backup: Spencer and JJ argue about her jealousy of his girlfriend.
Quid Pro Quo: Spencer is entranced by the law student in his class.
Rib Cage: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.
Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.
Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.
Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.
The Perfect Plan: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.
The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.
S.R. SFW Blurbs
At Ease: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep.
Birthday Wish: Spencer is sad he can’t reach you on his birthday.
Favorite Person: Reader just needs a little extra reassurance sometimes.
S.R. NSFW Oneshots (18+, MINORS DNI)
Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.
Blush: Spencer finds something surprising in his girlfriend’s sock drawer after he’s released from prison.
Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.
Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much (and Spencer's into it).
Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.
I Like It Like That: Spencer is jealous after a rowdy party.
Kiss ’n Tell: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.
My Boss’s Daughter: Spencer’s fling with his boss’s daughter is definitely going to get him fired.
Relief in Regrets: Spencer turns to his ex-girlfriend in a time of need.
Rewrapped: Reader tries to be cheeky, but regrets it a little too late to do anything about it.
Rodeo Show: Spencer and Reader weren’t planning on having an audience that morning.
Schrödinger’s Relationship (Part 1, Part 2): Reader finds out Spencer has been dating a kind and cute woman (when he’s not spending the night at her house).
Study Session: Spencer really hates his student, but he can’t resist her.
Vienna: Spencer is a bona fide 40-year-old virgin. After a few months of dating Reader, he finally decides he wants to change that.
Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?
Happy reading!
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asthronauta · 2 months
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WOUNDS THAT NEVER HEAL | Remus Lupin – Son! Male Reader.
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Summary: Remus had within him a destructive beast that destroyed and destroyed itself. And on one of those nights he gives himself a wound that cannot be healed.
Warnings: Angst, the kind of Angst that will destroy you. Happy ending tho? There is some Fluff (father-son bond) but mostly Angst. Description of wounds (the wolf attacking itself). Sensitive topics (I don't want to say it because I don't want to give spoilers but it is a pretty painful topic). Remus is a great dad :( Enjoy?
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Btw, english is not my first language so there may be some errors in my writing. I'm still learning!
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Remus' body was covered in scars of all sizes. Some longer, some shorter. Some more painful, some less painful. But they were all there. Written on his skin, telling his story. Like a brand that would stay with him forever. The evidence of his pain, his past, his present and his future. The wounds he had inflicted on himself as a result of his own desperation, of his own pain, of that beast that lived inside him and escaped from his interior every full moon. Remus hated himself, he always had. And he didn't believe he ever stopped doing it. It was something he couldn't help. His condition, his curse, that burden that he carried with him everywhere. The burden that he forced everyone around him to carry. His family, his friends... His son. Remus felt like that, a burden. A nuisance.
That's how it was for many years. Eventually, he learned to live with it. Maybe it was all the nights that Sirius had comforted him or the responsibility of being a father that had made him put his own pain aside, but Remus felt happy. Happy because, despite his lycanthropy, he had a wonderful life. He had people who loved him. He had friends, he had family. He had lost many loved ones, yes, but he still had many more to carry on for. The most important person in his life; his son, would soon be graduating, and Remus' only wish was to see him grow up. That was the only thing he wanted. Remus was happy because for the first time in his life he looked around and didn't see pain, he saw love. He saw a future that he was eager for. Seeing his son grow up, graduate, fulfill his dreams, was enough for him to forget everything that had been tormenting him for so many years.
But life is cruel, isn't it?
Just a few days after his son turned seventeen, Remus had a particularly rough night. He didn't have Wolfsbane, he had spent that month's money buying his son a gift. It was a sacrifice he was willing to do for him, so he simply decided to find a place where he can spend the full moon. Just like old times. He had already been through that many times so he didn't thought this time would be different. What a mistake. Remus would never be able to get that night out of his head. It would repeat itself in his consciousness over and over again like a broken record because that day his life changed completely.
His wolf was enraged. Out of control like it hadn't been in many years. He dug his long nails deep into his own skin, Remus could feel the burning pain course through his body as his wounds spurted blood. It was horrible. Maddening. A pain that Remus had forgotten and didn't want to remember. But there it was, reminding him once again like a macabre joke. His wolf bit and tore his own skin, almost skinning himself. It seemed like the animal wanted to kill itself. Hitting against things, banging his own head against the wall until he almost lost consciousness, biting and scratching his own skin until the floor was painted with his own blood.
It was a blurry night. The only thing Remus remembered from that night was all the pain he had felt and waking up in the hospital the next day. Bedridden. Not being able to move, not being able to speak. Completely paralyzed.
Time had passed since that night.
It was a cold morning. Christmas was near, the year was ending. Many people were celebrating with their families and friends, but Remus couldn't. Not in the condition he was in. His son dragged the wheelchair to the kitchen, settling it in front of the table where [Y/N] hurried to put the dishes. “Today I cooked your favorite, dad” the teenager said, speaking with a naturalness unbecoming of the situation. Remus watched him carefully, the boy was serving breakfast with a smile that Remus knew he was forcing onto his face. “I tried to do it like you used to. It was a little difficult because I had to do it from memory but hey, I don't think it's that bad” [Y/N] said, showing him a weak, gentle smile, sitting next to him.
[Y/N] still spoke to him, and Remus was deeply grateful for that. He understood that it wasn't easy to talk to a person when you know you won't receive an answer. [Y/N] was strong enough, thoughtful enough to still talk to his father. And Remus was grateful. He never in his life wanted to say ‘thank you’ as much as in that moment, but he couldn't. Even if he tried, only a few sounds would come out of his mouth. Nothing more. [Y/N] looked at his father, motionless in that wheelchair. He felt a horrible lump in his throat, and the deep need to cry. But he held back. He couldn't. Not there, not in front of his father. “...Here, let me help you,” he said, bringing the plate to him.
Helping him, that was what [Y/N] had been doing for him since the accident. That and so much more. Since that night, since that full moon, Remus had been confined to a wheelchair. His body was completely paralyzed. Weak movements with his face and hands were all he could do. He couldn't speak either, a few moans were the only thing he could let out with effort. Remus was imprisoned in his own body, a body that had become useless. [Y/N] had practically become the man of the house, Remus couldn't work anymore, he couldn't do anything for himself. And the responsibility had fallen on his son, who wasn't even an adult yet. “Wanna try?” [Y/N] said, holding the fork to Remus' mouth as if he were a baby. Remus swallowed, one of the few things he could do on his own. He felt useless. “It tastes good, doesn't it?” [Y/N] couldn't help but let a small proud smile leave his lips. He didn't usually cook, he had been forced to learn to do so after the accident, and every small achievement was a source of pride for him, and for Remus too. Remus was happy for him and at the same time he was so sorry. “I'm not that bad of a cook after all, huh?” he said with a boyish smile. He felt so proud of himself, Remus wanted to smile at him so badly. Tell him that of course he was a good cook, that he could be the best if he wanted to. But he couldn't. He was trapped behind his motionless body.
Remus never felt so miserable in his life. He felt so useless, so desolate. He was screaming in pain inside but he was silent outside. A silence that drove him crazy. It was a pain and desperation that he couldn't show and Remus had never in his life appreciated being able to speak as much as he did now. He couldn't stop thinking about all those times he didn't speak, all those times he kept things to himself. All those times he had something to say and didn't say it. All the things he had to say and couldn't. It was an overwhelming anxiety, wanting to scream and not having a voice.
But you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it, right?
“I've talked to mom.” [Y/N] continued talking while feeding his father. “She said she will send us money this month too. Luckily she's been.. ehm, nice.” Remus didn't get along with [Y/N]'s mother. It was a strained and uncomfortable relationship. The woman seemed to hate Remus and has stayed away from him since [Y/N] was born. She only spoke to her son's father because she had no other option, and Remus was sure that if she could make him disappear she would. But her heart seemed to have softened when she learned of Remus' new condition -which only made Remus more miserable-. She had been the one who had been helping them financially since the accident, because Remus could no longer provide for himself or his son. “Still, I've got a job for this vacation,” he smiled at him, “I want to help, you know? Even if it's just a little.” The teen said, giving Remus a small smile that reminded him of his own. Remus felt so guilty. His son was still a child, Remus still saw him as a child. A teenager who didn't know anything about the world yet. A boy Remus had yet to finish raising, whom he still had so many things to teach. He was just a boy. His boy. His son, who had been robbed of his teenage years. He, with his limitations, had taken away his teenage years. Even so, [Y/N] continued to help him in every way possible. Cooking for him, helping him bathe, change clothes, even getting a job to help financially. Remus was so proud of him and at the same time he felt like he owed him so, so much.
“It's in a bookstore, that bookstore where the old lady who always wears flowers on her head works, remember?” [Y/N] spoke normally, as if it were just another day in his life. One more of those days before everything happened. Remus remembered that lady. She was a kind, chubby lady, a lady who had practically seen [Y/N] and even Remus grow up. In Remus' first memories of that woman she was already old. And she already worked in that old, small bookstore. Remus remembered a little [Y/N] standing on his tiptoes on the counter every time he went to buy a book there, trying to see over it with his eyes barely catching the old woman's tender smile. Remus would give anything to live those days once again. “She told me that she heard about… you know, the accident. And she said that she wouldn't hesitate to give me a hand if I needed it.” Remus sighed, everyone had been doing that. Feeling sorry for him. Was that supposed to make him feel better? Because he only felt more miserable.
Remus rambled on about that lady for a moment. He had been doing that a lot lately. He couldn't do anything but think, so he had become something of a gossip lady. He couldn't remember the lady's name, but he could remember something very specific. He remembered that that lady's daughter had died, and that she was taking care of her grandson by herself. It was curious, that thing in particular seemed to have been erased from his memory until now. He was surprised to notice all the suffering that that lady had been hiding behind her smile for so many years and Remus not only didn't give it any importance, he also cared so little that he simply forgot about it. He couldn't help but wonder if that would happen to him too. If everyone would eventually forget about his suffering, about his accident. Remus couldn't help but think of his friends turning their backs on him, of his son turning his back on him.
At that point he was just rambling. But his mind had become a black cloud of negative thoughts that followed him everywhere. Maybe they were just stupid thoughts, but he couldn't help it. It's just that he felt so, so useless. He felt like a baby that needed to be taken care of, and he didn't believe that anyone would want to take care of him forever.
It seemed curious how everyone seemed to have so many experiences, so much pain within them. And how simply everything that makes a person cannot be seen behind a look, behind a smile. It was even cruel how everyone just continued with their happiness when so many others were suffering in silence, forgotten. Remus assumed that; everyone suffers in their own circumstances, but that we were always selfish enough to put our pain above that of others. No matter what. Because at the end of the day, we are all a little selfish. Even him, completely forgetting the suffering of the lady he saw almost every day on his way to work.
And no one cared about the pain of a man who couldn't even move.
“And then I remembered that I hadn't seen her grandson in a while, I asked her about it and she didn't hesitate to tell me” He couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. [Y/N] remembered how much that woman liked to talk and vent about her life. “She told me that her grandson moved, that he was studying at a university. Then she started complaining that her prince” He rolled his eyes at the nickname, smiling. Remus would have smiled alongside him if he could. He had never before noticed how beautiful it was to smile at his son. “left and given up the cashier job. So I didn't hesitate and asked her when I could start working.” He said, with a boyish, victorious smile. Like a child proud of his little achievement.
His son was growing up alone in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything to accompany him. It felt horrible to miss out on his son's life as time continued to pass and pass before his eyes. Remus looked at his boy, barely noticing the innocent features of his little boy on the face of the teenager about to become a man in front of him. [Y/N] was so much like him, in some way or another. Molly had mentioned it several times, his son looked like him. Sometimes it was small gestures, sometimes it was the way he explained things, or sometimes the angle where he looked at his face. But his boy had a lot of him in him. Sometimes Remus looked at [Y/N] and couldn't help but see himself. To see in his son's eyes the same eyes he had been looking in the mirror for years. Remus couldn't help but think that [Y/N] was an improved version of him. And he was so proud of his son.
“Mhm! I haven't told you” [Y/N] said, removing the fork from Remus' suddenly, just when Remus was about to make an effort to swallow. [Y/N] raised the fork to his mouth casually, as if he didn't notice. Remus watched as his son swallowed the food that was meant for him and couldn't help but want to giggle. It was such an innocent, dumb action. [Y/N] hadn't even realized and for some reason it touched him. Remus really, really wished he could hug his boy right then. “I had a new DADA teacher this year” [Y/N] began to tell, Remus' interest quickly piqued. “I think he's my favorite so far.. he's not as good as you, of course, but I like him. His name is Edward.. I hope he lasts and doesn't leave after a year like all DADA teachers, I don't want Snape to be my teacher” [Y/N] said, making a small expression of disgust that Remus would laugh at if he could. He was happy to know that [Y/N] liked his new teacher. Remus regretted not being able to continue being his son's teacher, but at least now he knew that his replacement was good and that his son would continue to maintain a good education. Although he would love to be able to teach his son himself.
Remus looked up, meeting [Y/N]’s eyes again. But this time [Y/N] was silent. Remus knew his son well enough to know he was thinking about something. [Y/N] seemed hesitant this time, his lips pressed together, trying to decide if he should express what he was thinking. Finally, he decided to do it. “...They miss you... your students, they miss you.” Remus knew it, he had received many letters from his students after the accident. He loved teaching DADA. Teaching, communicating, connecting. He missed it so much. His classes, his students. And they missed him too. He was missed, and he didn't know if that made him feel better or worse. “...You were a wonderful teacher, dad.”
A bitter tear ran down his cheek. And then another, and another, and Remus couldn't stop it. He tried to swallow the heavy lump in his throat but the bitterness ran through his body and swallowing hurt. His eyes clouded over and Remus couldn't see his son's worried face anymore. Remus missed so much, so much, that he would give what little was left of him to relive a single day of his old life. “Dad…” [Y/N] murmured worriedly, terrified to see his father crying. He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of Remus'. Oh, his boy. His sweet boy. Remus owed his boy so much. His weak hand struggled to move, finding his son's and giving it a gentle squeeze, a squeeze that was the only thing he had left from those old hugs. He missed being able to hold his son. Remus remembered his baby, his little baby boy, so small and fragile in his arms. So innocent and so pure, sleeping in his father's arms with all the tenderness of a small being. Remus couldn't believe that that tiny baby was now this amazing young boy in front of him. Remus didn't know how he managed to raise someone so wonderful but he was so proud. Remus didn't deserved him, he just didn't.
“Dad don't.. don't cry” He stammered, feeling emotional himself. His father was the strongest person [Y/N] knew, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so fragile, so hurt, broke his heart. Things weren't easy for [Y/N] either, he had cried entire nights missing his father. It was all so scary, so sudden. He was just a young boy who now had to face everything by himself. And he still needed his dad, he needed him so much. His care, his guidance. Now he was the one who had taken over as caretaker, and although [Y/N] knew he would do anything for his father, he was terrified. And lost. “I…” [Y/N] bited his lip, trying to hold back his own tears. He didn't know what to say. Seeing the man who raised him break down like that in front of him scared him so much.
[Y/N] could feel the weak grip on his hand. His father's desperate attempt for contact, to feel him close again. He squeezed his hand back, feeling completely destroyed inside. Was this all that was left of his father? [Y/N] missed him so much. He would do anything to be able to hear his father's voice one more time. [Y/N] trembled, swallowing the lump in his throat. His father used to tell him how brave and strong he was when he was little, he wanted to have those words present at all times. Especially now that his father couldn't use his voice to remind him himself. He knew that's what his dad would want him to do. He wiped away the tears with his free hand and then leaned towards Remus, giving him a soft, gentle kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay dad… don't be sad.” He said with a trembling voice, not knowing what to say to take away his father's immense pain. He looked at him, his father's gentle face now static and haggard. He could see the deep sadness behind those empty long-suffering eyes. His father's warm chocolate eyes seemed to have darkened.
“I… I love you so much, dad” His voice had become small and weak, no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady. “And… you don't know.. how much it hurts me to see you like this” this time he just couldn't hold back his tears. “I just… I miss you so much… You don't know... You don't know how much I need you... I need my dad, I...” he trembled “I know you raised me to be brave but... Dad… I'm so scared” He looked at the ground, unable to look his father in the eyes as he finally broke down like a little child. “Please.. come back… I still need you…” He whispered weakly, sobbing as he looked at the ground. Trembling with no one to comfort him.
[Y/N] let himself cry, cry like he had been crying all those nights since the accident, cry like a scared little boy. He liked to imagine his father's long arms hugging him, hiding him in his chest, away from fear, away from everything. Just him and his father's warm love. He wanted to be comforted one more time, just one more time, like when he was a little. He needed it more than ever. He remembered his small form, tiny in front of Remus' large body. He remembered how he used to crawl under his father's sweaters and long coats in the winter, refusing to leave. He remembered his father's sweet chuckle, looking down at him with his warm eyes “So you're going to live in there, huh? Then I guess I'll have to pay you rent.” [Y/N] perfectly remembered his father's voice saying that and it hurt him so much.
It was at that moment when he felt a subtle, soft, almost phantom caress of his father's thumb on his hand. [Y/N] looked up, thinking that perhaps it had been his imagination, that his mind was cruelly playing with him. But there it was. His father's long, weak fingers were moving ghostly. Caressing him. Speaking without speaking. [Y/N] began to cry again, but no longer from sadness. He trembled as he felt his father's caress, because it was a caress that provided comfort, it was a caress that provided love, it was a caress that said 'I'm still here.’
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