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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 months

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୨୧ ʝαɯႦɾҽαƙҽɾ (σɳҽ) ୨୧

୨୧ Pairings: rich boy!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!choi san x chubby!fem!reader, rich boy!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader, mentions of yunho

୨୧ Genre: graduate school au/smut/angst/a lil fluffy

୨୧ Summary: It was never your intention to infiltrate one of the most exclusive social circles at your new university, seducing rich boys to get who and what you want. Wait, no, it was.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.7k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: reader's in her villain era, demon line are wealthy low key villains too, strong language, some dom demon line/sub reader dynamics, you sleep with everyone darling, oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, pet names (good girl), obsession, probably a praise kink (who am I kidding? it's for sure a theme), jealousy/light possessiveness, sugar baby origins, unprotected sex, a lil drop of rough sex, marking, fingering, mention of multiple orgasms, public spicy stuff, light choking, scratching, nibbling, dry humping, & that's it, babes.

୨୧ A/N: This baby has sorta just been chilling in the drafts cause I kinda get nervous to post sometimes but I'm gonna let her be free now. This one focuses on Hwa moreso but Joong and San will get their time too. Yunho's also a part of this, just not quite yet. So, yes, I hope you like it!

୨୧ Part Two is Here ୨୧

Observe a weekly study session held by three best friends. It takes place every Sunday, almost ritualistically so, at 3:00pm sharp in the apartment of ringleader Kim Hongjoong. Situated at the top floor of an old university office turned luxury apartment building, it has a vintage charm to it that somehow makes it feel more absurdly expensive than it already is.

Observe that, despite their long held agreement that this is a “study” session, no one’s actually studying. Not Choi San lounging in the brown Italian leather chair, mindlessly chewing on one of the legs of his round rimmed glasses when he should be wearing them instead.

Not Hongjoong painstakingly rearranging the shoes by the door. Seonghwa’s black Dior Oxfords can’t go near Hongjoong’s custom leather Prada sneakers. They are custom after all.

Not Seonghwa who’s leaning by the window doodling on the crisp pages of his $200 copy of the Netter Atlas of Human Anatomy, an act that would be blasphemous to someone like him on any other day.

But no one’s doing anything they’d do on a normal day because this isn’t a normal day. They’re distracted, unable to peel their minds free from the events of last night and it’s all your fault.

Staring down at the space between his legs, San can only think about the fact that you were there. You, the new girl with your pretty face and soft cheeks. Cheeks that were even softer as he gently cupped them, pressing the tip of his cock to the back of your throat.

The way that you whimpered, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, is etched into his memory. If he could rewind time he’d do it over and over just to hear those same whimpers muffled by his cum filling your cheeks. You swallowed him so well, not spilling a drop.

“Such a good girl” he’d whispered, petting your hair as your head lay in his lap. Such a good, good girl.

By the window, Seonghwa’s still sketching away. The level of intensity and focus on his face does wonders to make it appear as if the motion of his hand has even a shred of intent behind it. None of it means anything, just a half hearted attempt at busying a brain that keeps reminding him how he fucked you against the very window he leans upon. This exact spot actually.

You, with your plush body and sweet voice had begged, as his lips met yours, “Please don’t stop.” It was pure bliss to have your nails digging into his forearms, the walls of your deliciously warm pussy clenching around him.

You were wet enough that your thighs were almost too slippery to grip when he parted them to sink in deeper. No girl has ever been that needy for him before, so desperate to be ruined by him. Fuck, he wants to ruin you.

“I need a drink” Hongjoong huffs, rushing off to the kitchen. Drinking’s never been something he’s just done. He considers self medication through alcohol to be silly but what else is he meant to do? He needs something to overwhelm his palate and kill the nagging craving to taste you on his tongue.

You, with your bright eyes and innocent smile, had hopped your cute ass on the counter and let him drink from your pussy until he saw stars. How adorable you’d been, kicking your feet each time his tongue stimulated your sensitive clit, his fingers teasing your sweet spot. “One more for me” he cooed and you gave him exactly what he wanted. More.

It’s all any of them want now. More, more, more. They made a promise to each other that what happened last night could only ever happen again if you were all together. The four of you. Not three. Certainly not two. The boys would do with you what best friends do with all things, share, but sharing’s much easier said than done when you don’t truly want to.

Seonghwa slams his book shut, snapping back to reality at a speed too dizzying for the others. “I need to go” Seonghwa announces, scrambling to shove his things into his bag. San sits up in the chair, popping his glasses back on.

“Go? Where are you going?”

“I, uh, I have to go look for something. I’ll see you guys later.”

Hongjoong steps back into the living room just in time to hear the door slam as Seonghwa exits. “Where’s he off to?” A question with only one logical answer that pisses San off the second it dawns on him.

“Where do you think?”

The scholarships aren’t nearly enough. They were enough to get you here but being able to stay? That’s a different story. And so you find yourself here on a Sunday evening, picking up hours at the university’s library to make some extra money.

It’s a grueling schedule. Weekdays waitressing at a five star restaurant, weekends at the library, and every waking hour outside of that spent with your face buried in your books. Well, almost every waking hour. Lately you’ve managed to find time for other things.

Wheeling a cart full of books down one of the aisles, you nearly run over some girl’s feet. “Hey, watch it!” she shouts, shooting you a look that says she wants to tear your head off. “I’m really sorry” you apologize, slinking to the side to let her squeeze past.

“These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” she spits before storming off in the other direction.

Everyone’s like that here, always throwing their money in your face. Mommy and daddy’s money anyway. You don’t have what they do, it’s like they can smell it on you, and they’ll never let you forget it. “These shoes cost more than your rent, you know that?” you mock, picking up a book to slip onto one of the shelves. “They’re fucking hideous anyway.”

“Uh, hey, everything okay?” a voice asks from behind you. You jump, nearly tripping over one of the cart’s wheels. Seonghwa grabs you by the arm before you lose your footing. Your knight in shining armor. Well, a cardigan really but close enough, right?

“Oh my god, Seonghwa. You can’t sneak up on me like that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“It’s a library” he laughs, straightening out your shirt, “I thought we were supposed to be quiet.”

“Not that quiet! What are you doing here anyway?”

That came out a bit harsher than you intended. Thankfully Seonghwa finds it cute when you’re sassy. “Yunho told me you work here on weekends and I thought…I wanted to see you.” “See me?” you ask, the book now clutched in your arms like a stuffed animal.

Seonghwa moves between you and the cart, pinning you against one of the shelves. This position feels familiar, a flash of heat rushing over your body and settling between your legs. Seonghwa toys with the hem of your short skirt, his knuckles brushing your exposed thigh.

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm?”

“Working two jobs. Do you like it?”

“Honestly, I hate it.” You draw in a sharp breath when his fingertips touch the marks he left behind on you last night. Sneaking both hands beneath your skirt, he traces your hips, relishing in the fullness of them.

Your thighs part and he carefully eases his knee between them, the moist cotton of your panties all that separates your aching core from his slacks. Seonghwa leans in to nibble at your bottom lip, “Then quit.” “Hwa, you know I can’t, ah…” you squeak, the book tumbling to the ground as he slowly grinds you along his leg.

He kisses you tenderly, angling you forward to stimulate your clit in just the right way. Seonghwa can already feel you soaking through his pants. You get wet so easily for him and it eats away at his self control. “Quit” he repeats, “I can get you a job at one of my father’s offices. His secretaries there don’t really do anything. You can kind of just sit there and be pretty. I know you can do that.”

Letting go of your waist, he pulls back enough to watch how perfectly your tits sit as you ride his thigh. “Look at you, doing so well already.”

The quiet one. That’s how Yunho described Seonghwa before you met him. He’s quiet but no more innocent than the others are. Never let that innocent exterior fool you, he has a switch and when it flips he’s someone you won’t even recognize.

That switch, you can see it flipping on and off. His eyes bright with admiration one second and darkening with lust the next. There’s something dangerous about him but you aren’t exactly harmless now, are you?

“You’d do that for me?” you ask, taking his hand and pressing it to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, taking his thumb between your lips. “Of course I would. I’d…” he loses his train of thought as you start sucking his thumb, the rhythm of your hips picking up speed.

“Anything you want.”

You can feel his pulse quickening. See his face taking on a pink hue. Your breathing grows shallow, the tension building in your core making your body shudder. “So close” you whine, running his hand down to your neck, “I want you to make me cum.”

Anything you want. Anything for you. Seonghwa holds you by the neck, his other hand slipping into your panties. “Cum for me then like a good girl. Like my good girl.”

There’s a chance someone could hear you. Between the splashing of his fingers in your juices and the moans that spill out from your lips onto his, there’s more than enough noise to draw a little attention. That’s what makes it hotter. What has his cock straining against his pants and your eyes glossing over as the tension finally snaps.

Ruin you, that’s what he wanted to do, and look at you now, coming undone so wonderfully. How can he be anything short of obsessed with you?

“So gorgeous when you’re falling apart.”

“Only when I’m falling apart?” you ask, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seonghwa wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you on the forehead.

“No,” he sighs, “And I think that might be the death of me.”

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #ateez au #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #choi san x you #choi san x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #choi san smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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animehideout · 2 months

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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 11

Check out part 12 here

Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

warnings ⚠️: not proofread / abuse / SA just something vague not detailed.

a/n : I truly apologize for this late update, I was really unmotivated to rewrite it and I was struggling to find inspiration again, I'm sorry if this part didn't live up to your expectations but I read hope you like it though, I tried to make it longer but I ran out of ideas 🥹.

Music Suggestion 🎧

Satoru stood tall, alone in the balcony, his gaze fixated on the sky, lost in the depth if his own thoughts. The weight of regret hung heavy upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer bear.

His mind played your last fight that night on loop, making him hate himself even more. He remembered his harsh words, actions and disrespect towards you. Forcefully shutting his eyes to make those images and voices that's been haunting him go away.

Unwelcomed thoughts yet impossible to ignore. Blaming himself over and over again for what happened to you, torturing himself to madness.

"It's my fucking fault" he muttered,

In all that darkness, the image of your face in his mind was the only source of light. The delicate curve of your smile whenever you were around your students etched in his memory. He remembered the way you slept, features softened by the gentle embrace of your slumber, your passion for teaching and your daily excitement to show your students a new weapon and new technique.

You were a vision of peace amidst the chaos he was living. He realized then how life became emptier after your disappearance, the void your absence had left in every bit of his life. He realized how much he fell for you, he realized that hatred was deeply buried by the birth of his love for you.

With a heavy heart, he bowed his head, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. For three days, his eyes wide open, unable to sleep without you under the same roof as him, cuddling a piece of your clothing every single night to take into your scent, to pretend that you were there, next to him.

Clutching his fists, his knuckles turned white , whispering a plea for forgiveness, a forgiveness he might never receive.

"I'm sorry Y/n.."

. ..

"Satoru?"

"Y-yaga sensei?" said Gojo wiping his tears away,

"Can I join you?"

"Y-yeah sure"

"What's on your mind? Still blaming yourself?"

"Do I have anything else to do except blaming myself?"

"I'm sorry for your loss Satoru" said Principal Yaga apologetically,

"I didn't lose her, she's still out there, somewhere! I know it, I'm sure of it, I can feel it"

"Pain is eating you up Satoru, you know you should let go already–"

"Let go? Easier said than done. How can all of you let go so fast as if she never existed?" he said in annoyance

"The higher ups orders, to not distract the sorcerers' focus from their daily tasks"

"Bullshit, –"

"Satoru I understand your pain"

"No you don't, none of you does! I did this to her, I built the wall between both of us brick by brick till it collapsed on both of us, she got abducted by Toji and here I am suffering everyday.. I just wish I can turn back time and undo the damage I had done"

"Is this because of regret or something else?" asked Principal Yaga

Gojo looked down, not sure of what to say, mastering the courage he finally spoke,

"I– I love her, sensei! I love Y/n so much, I just hope it's not too late to realize this because I really want to fix everything–"

Yaga sensei looked at Gojo with a reassuring yet sad smile, deep down, everyone accepted that you died except Gojo., and he didn't want him to hang on fake hope.

"Satoru–"

"I know what you're about to say, but I won't let go, I won't give up even if the higher ups chain me down.... I thought she was a curse when we got married but I think I am her curse, I was her curse while she was my blessing–"

"I hope you're right Satoru, I hope she's still out there as you said, I hope you get a second chance to be a real family"

...

*In Mei Mei's room*

"Look at this" said Maki her eyebrows frowning in confusion,

"Who's that in the picture?" asked Nobara as confused as Maki,

Both of them examined the photograph, their eyes flickered between the picture and each other in silence. In the picture a woman smiled serenely as she cradled a baby in her embrace.

Maki shrugged equally perplexed,

"I have no idea, do you think it's a family member?"

Their senses were on high alert as they scanned every corner of her room for any sign of wrongdoing, something out of the ordinary. They found that picture tucked under her bed after they flipped the mattress while searching for anything suspicious.

"And this stack of money? Didn't know she's got all of this cash here" added Nobara.

"And this box as well"

Intrigued, they opened it. As they lifted the lid of the box, a firegun revealed itself, its metallic surface gleaming ominously in the dim light.

"A g-gun?" started Nobara as she looked at Maki in shock, "what would she use it for?"

"Definitely not hers, why would a sorcerer with a jujutsu technique depend on a gun" she pointed out.

"Good point, so if its not hers then to whom does it belong to?" asked Nobara

"There's only one way to figure it out, but now let's take the gun, the damn photograph and get out of here" said Maki as she put he mattress in its place again.

.....

"GOJO-SENSEI" called Nobara out as she caught a glimpse of Gojo in the balcony "Sensei you need to see this"

"Hm? Nobara? Maki?"

"Gojo" said Maki as she saw Gojo with principal Yaga in the balcony "We found something–"

but before she could finish her sentence,

"Any news?" interrupted Mei Mei as she stepped in the balcony out of nowhere..

Maki and Nobara exchanged quick nervous glances, their eyes darting between each other as they attempt to maintain composure. Hiding what they took from her room behind their backs. Their expressions strain with the effort to appear nonchalant, but a subtle tension lingers in the air. Lips pressed into strained smiles,

"Nah nothing new" said Maki while Nobara nodded in agreement.

"Hm you sure about that? I thought I heard you said you found something, is it about Y/n? " asked Mei raising her eyebrows,

"What if we did? Is it really your concern?" exclaimed Maki offensively, only to get elbowed softly by Nobara,

"We found nothing important Mei Mei sensei, of course if we did we'd tell you" exclaimed Nobara, chuckling awkwardly.

"Oh alright then girls," she said luckily not giving too much important to the girls, then paused and drifted her gaze towards Gojo, "how are you holding up Gojo? I hope you're in the process of moving on" she added

Gojo's eyes burned holes in her soul, but he tried to remain calm,

"I'm fine"

"That's what all of us would like to hear, glad you let go" she said and then excused herself to go to her room,

Then moment she left, Maki ran towards Gojo and Yaga, showing them what they found,

"We found these–"

"WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THESE FROM?" snapped Gojo unexpectedly, his eyes widened as he snatched the gun and photograph form Maki's hands,

"Damn Satoru what's got into you, relax!" exclaimed Yaga-sensei,

"W-we.." stuttered Nobara

"How did you get these? they were well hidden"

"Well hidden under Mei Mei's bed?" asked Maki in confusion

"What? what did you just say?" said Gojo and Yaga in union

"We found these under Mei Mei's bed, the gun hidden in a box , tucked beside that photograph and a pile of cash, do you possibly know to whom it belongs?"

"These belong to Toji Zenin" said Satoru

Maki and Nobara froze in place, trying to process what Gojo just said,

"T-toji?" they said in disbelief,

"This gun was used by Toji to murder Riko Amanai, and these in the picture are Megumi and his mother–" explained Yaga sensei

"It can only be one thing" expressed Gojo through gritted teeth, "She must be behind it" he added and started walking away, thinking about confronting her,

"GOJO STOP!" yelled Yaga sensei, holding Gojo in place, "What's happened to your common sense? vanished?"

"We can't assume anything now sensei!" said Nobara

"So all of this isn't enough to assume that she's got some dirty work with Toji Zenin going on behind our backs?" said Gojo aggressively

"Okay you're right, it is suspicious but we need a plan! a proper plan, do you think she'll admit it if you confront her? she'll find a lie and you'll never find the truth, not out of her! We need to know more about her first" explained Maki

"Know what?" asked Gojo impatiently

"I mean, Toji has nothing right? not even a house, do you think if he'd take Y/n to a hotel room after abducting her? Mei Mei must have provided a place for him" she added

"So if we can't ask her, how would we know?" asked Nobara,

"We ask her best friend" Suggest Maki shrugging,

....

"Is it ringing?" asked Yaga sensei,

"Yeah shh it is" said Gojo waiting for her to pick up the phone, "–Oh hello" he said through the phone

"Gojo? Hi what's up calling me late at night, is everything okay?"

"Utahime, yeah everything is fine, we just need you here, if it's possible can you make here in one hour at least?"

"Well I can, but is it an emergency?"

"Um it's– it's about Mei Mei, we're preparing a party for her and we need your help"

"A party? It's not even her birthday yet–"

"It's for her service, it's a habit here in Jujutsu High to hold a party for a teacher to honor them, and this time it's Mei Mei, she did a lot for us and for the school, besides it's the higher ups orders so..."

"Oh the higher ups? sure then I'll be there in an hour"

"Don't tell Mei Mei that you're coming though, it must remain a surprise, now we don't wanna spoil it"

"So should be meet outside the school?"

"Sure yeah, you can come to my house?!"

"Oh alright then, I'll be there"

With that they hung up the phone,

"She'll be here in one hour, I hope we can get her to talk"

"I hope she's not part of Mei Mei's plan though" Said Nobara.

"Don't you think we must tell the others? Maybe we need some backup?" suggested Maki

"Yeah, but some of them need to stay here to keep an eye on Mei Mei" said principal Yaga

"Alright, I'll go and tell them then,"

*Time skip, at Gojo's house*

They sat there, Gojo, Nanami, Maki and Megumi waiting for Utahime's arrival.

"You've got a nice and big house" pointed Maki

"Yeah but never a happy house" mumbled Gojo to himself,

"Do you think she'll tell us more about her?" asked Megumi and suddenly the bell rang,

"I guess we'll find out now!" said Nanami,

...

"So Utahime, I hope you corporate!" started Gojo not wasting any precious second,

"Corporate? you make it sound like if we're discussing business, and not preparing for a surprise party! it's a p-party right?"

she chuckled nervously,

"Not really! you need to tell us more about Mei Mei, some information that we don't know about"

"wait? what?" she asked nervously

"Is she meeting someone? did she tell you about something?"

"Gojo wait! why are you asking about this? I mean she lives there in the school dorms as well, so I guess you know more than I do"

"I don't think so, she's you're best friend she must have told you something about her plan?" said Maki

"Plan? what plan?"

"Ah come on Utahime dont play dumb"

"No for real! what plan, I thought you had a plan with her , Gojo to push Y/n away!"

"What? NO. I'm talking about her dirty plan with Toji"

"Toji? wait what's going on?" she said truly confused

"STOP LYING AND ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION, IF YOU'RE PART OF HER DIRTY GAME I'LL END BOTH OF YOU" exclaimed Gojo angrily, making Utahime step back, growing more and more impatient.

"Hey hey Gojo calm down, what's wrong with you? I understand you're frustrated but that's not the right way to find answers!" said Maki and the others nodded in agreement,

"Megumi please take him to the balcony while me and Maki handle this, he needs to calm down" suggest Nanami,

Megumi did as he said and took Gojo to get some fresh night air,

"Geez, you really developed anger issues, you were more laid back even in risky situations Gojo" started Megumi

"Not anymore, people change and I've changed"

"Y/n sensei is dear to all of us, so I am eager too to know where she is, and I truly understand how you feel"

"No Gumi, you don't, you don't understand because I'm not just sad, I'm feeling extremely guilty, because it's my damn fault"

"I'm feeling guilty too" said Megumi lowering his head,

"Hm? what for ? you're pretty close to Y/n and you're good friends not only a student and his teacher–"

"It's my father, he's the one who abducted her and only God knows what he's doing to her, I don't wanna even think about it. Is there any greater shame than this?" he said his voice cracking,

"Hey Megumi! look at me, your father's actions has nothing to do with you, he's the one who abducted her not you! you've always been nice and kind to Y/n. Sometimes family does things that we are ashamed of and completely in opposition of it but it doesn't mean we're like them just because we're related by blood, you are what you're truly in here" he said and pointed at Megumi's heart "And I know well what's in there Megumi! I raised you and I've seen you grow up to be a loyal, strong and kind hearted man! you're the complete opposite of your father so don't ever compare yourself to him again" said Gojo with a smile,

"If it's his fault, then why are you blaming yourself Gojo?"

"Because I'm the reason she left that night! I've said too many hurtful words, no one can handle to hear, no one deserves to hear but I was too agitated, too overwhelmed by my mixed feelings, trying to push her away from me over and over again–"

"Why? why'd you push her away from you? couldn't you have tried at least? maybe after what you've been through you were destined to finally find happiness with her! "

"My heart was a messy place to make it a comfortable place for her!"

"Was? so what changed now?"

"I want to try to make it comfortable for both of us, I want t-t to– nevermind! I have to find her, I have to make it up for her"

"I understand and we will find her, Y/n is strong I'm sure she's safe wherever she is" reassured Megumi, trying to lift Gojo's spirit again,

....

"So Utahime, we really need you to corporate so you better put that bestie thing with Mei Mei aside cuz this is a life or death matter!" begun Maki,

"D-death?"

"Toji escaped and we think that Mei Mei had a hand in this" added Nanami

"No way! Why would Mei Mei do that? I mean you know what Toji had done to the Jujutsu world!"

"We know, but we know that when people are full of hate are full of unexpected things!"

"Nanami what's wrong? what happened?"

"It's Y/n! Toji abducted her, and we found Toji's gun under Mei Mei's bed, even though it was well hidden.. do you still think she's got nothing to do with that?"

Her eyes wide open in shock and disbelief, her mouth hanging open, sad expressions drawn on her face,

"W-what? I didn't know I swear to God! I've – I've never thought it will go that way, I've never thought she could fall this far" she expressed her feelings, her heart crushing, she's never expected her long time best friend would do or be part of such thing, to betray the Jujutsu community.

"That's why we need your help! You know how important Y/n is to our world! we can't lose her" said Nanami "So please if you know anything, any place she owns, any small details tell us, we really need to know"

With a deep breath, she started thinking, trying to remember if Mei Mei told her anything,

"I remember she bought a house! but that was weeks ago!!"

"A house?"

"Yeah, she said she might settle in Tokyo if things went well between her and Gojo–"

"She's truly delusion" interrupted Maki rolling her eyes,

"Where is this house?" asked Nanami

"I'll take you there" said Utahime determined to help.

Despite being best friends with Mei Mei, her morals were more important! she's too loyal to the Jujutsu World and committed to the greater good, she knows about the prophecy and she can't afford to witness another loss on the Jujutsu community part.

"I'll go and tell Gojo and Megumi then– maybe Y/n is there"

.......

[ Kill her, and I'll bring your cash tomorrow when I see her lifeless body ]

Read Toji through the message that he received,

"See! I'm ordered to kill you now! How much trouble did you cause her for her to free me from the prison just to torture you and kill you" he said with a smirk

"F-fuck you and fuck her" you said through gritted teeth as you were thrown on the floor, your body hurting from the chains that were tied around your wrists and feet.

your lips and nose bleeding after hours of tortures,

"And you still got that attitude, after being beaten up? If I were you I wouldn't act so brave.."

"You'll never be me Toji! we're both considered inferior in the Jujutsu world but I learned how to be the real me and not what others want me to be, I didn't let others to order me around and kill people–"

"Are you trying to save yourself? and convince me to not kill you"

"no, I know I can't be saved, not just now but for a long time ago, but you know the funny thing is that we actually have something else in common beside being monkeys" you joked offensively trying to get on his nerves, you're going to die anyway so why'd you not offend him, you were tired if being stepped on so why not talk back.

"what?" he said in anticipation as he kneeled down,

"Both our families are disappointed in us, I disappointed my parents and you disappointed your son, Megumi, nice kid he's nothing like you–"

"M-megumi?"

And you struck a sensitive nerve in him,

You started laughing when you saw his face dropped and his expressions changed, your stomach hurts whenever you laughed he probably had broken some of yours ribs.

The you paused,

"Do it Toji. Do what you were assigned for, no one will come to my rescue anyway, do it, kill me" you said in a serious tone,

"Change in plan, let me have my fun with you before I take the light out of your eyes"

"You still have time for fun? the dawn will break soon–"

"Oh I know princess, don't you worry about it, I know I can't delay the sunlight but I know how to make the night even more darker... and you were right, Megumi's probably disappointed in me but lemme tell you something–" he paused and leaned forward, his face a few inches away from yours "That's who I truly am, a beast that preys on the weak, and you are weak Y/n no matter how hard you try to come off as strong"

he said and he reached to take off your shirt,

Your heart beats quickened, you thought he'd torture you in another way, and not attempt to do something filthy to you,

"No -no! I'd rather die" you said trying your best to break free from his grasp, but his huge body got you pinned down,

"What? you're not a fan of big guys? or your pathetic ass is loyal to a husband who's never paid attention to your existence?" he said looking you deep in the eyes, his huge hands circling around your neck, posing pressure on it,

You couldn't deny the pain and disappointment you felt. You really hoped Gojo would appear and save you, you wished he cared for you. You couldn't deny that you wanted Gojo; your husband to be your first time and not with someone who would brutally kill you after taking what he wants.

You'd die even before he kills you.

"no don't " you whispered, loosing your voice as his grip around your neck tightened, making it hard to breathe.

....

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER"

All what you can feel is the weight of Toji's body being removed from on top of you.

Toji's body forcefully thrown on the ground, your blurry eyes trying to focus on the figure standing right in front of you, slowly approaching you,

"Damn baby what did he do to you?" he said softly, softly brushing his finger over your bleeding lip.

"S-satoru, y-you came!" you whispered, your vision darkening and ears ringing,

"Of course I'm here with you, Y/n! Y/N !!!!!no no Y/N WAKE UP" he yelled as he held you in his arms.

....

Your eyes slowly fluttered opened, your surroundings sharpening into details again, gulping with difficulty.

A serum attached to your vein,

"Sensei" said Yuji "Guys she's awake"

With that all of them circled around the bed you were laying on, their eyes look directly at you, greeting you with sincere smiles.

"How are you feeling?" asked Megumi.

You tried to leave the bed but they forced you to lay back. You looked around scanning the place, you were in the hospital, Shoko must have treated your wounds, everyone was there except your husband, Satoru.

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chronicowboy · 1 year

Text

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) | 2.6k

eddie starts dating again, buck doesn't want to be waiting on the couch forever, hen really wasn't expecting this conversation, and eddie may or may not eavesdrop. just a little.

Its not a big thing in the end.

Chimney asks Eddie how the date with Vanessa went over Bobby's minestrone and a loaf of Athena's sourdough, Eddie tells them about the date and subsequent talk with his aunt.

There's a joke about setting Eddie up with a single mom from Denny's school, or at least Buck hopes it was a joke, and then the bell rings.

Its not a big thing.

At all.

Except Buck can't stop thinking about it.

The little glint in Eddie's eye now he's realised that his life doesn't have to revolve around Chris and only Chris.

Buck hates himself for hating that glint.

But he thought—

He's not sure what he thought exactly.

That he had more time?

That Eddie would stay content with just a best friend at his side forever?

Maybe, however foolishly, Buck had thought that being Buck was enough for Eddie too.

But, like a coma dream, it all has to come crashing down around you at some point.

Which is why Buck finds himself hunched over on the couch at three-forty AM whilst everyone else is asleep in the bunk room.

Or so he thinks.

Its Hen's gentle footsteps that have him pulling his head out of his hands for the first time in—

Shit, has he been sat here for two hours?

"Hey, Buckaroo." She smiles at him, eyes scrutinising behind her glasses. "Want some tea?"

"Sure," he says, voice hoarser than he'd been expecting. Hen squints at him for a moment, and he knows with the utmost certainty that his tea will come with a dash of oat milk and a heaping spoon of sisterly interrogation.

He settles against the back of the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and counts his breaths as the sounds of the kitchen soothe his hackles. If there was anyone he was going to talk to about this, it'd be Hen. He's sort of glad that she'd woken up and found him, taken the decision from his hands, because he's not sure he would have sought her out of his own volition.

Hen sits down on the coffee table in front of him, and he gives himself a beat to prepare before picking his head up and taking his mug from her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.

"Woke up and couldn't stop thinking about Nathaniel." Hen shakes her head, something sad wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "Thought some tea might calm me."

"Mm," Buck hums, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"What about you?" She tilts her head at him, kind eyes that kind of make Buck want to cry. "What is it keeping you up tonight? Lightning bolt? Ladder truck? Shooting?"

"None of the above actually." Buck huffs a half-hearted laugh, unwilling to examine the last option too closely.

"So, what is it?" she pushes, gentle as always.

"Vanessa," Buck mumbles into his tea.

"Van—" Hen frowns. "Eddie's date Vanessa?" Buck nods.

"Or whichever date comes next," he clarifies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh," Hen breathes. She blinks, once, twice, three times, then so rapidly Buck wouldn't be able to count them if he could still do math.

"Hen?"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this conversation." She blinks once more before mumbling, "always thought it'd be Eddie I spoke to first."

"What?"

"What?" Hen bats her eyelashes at him, a tight smile on her face. "What is it about Eddie dating that's making you look like a kicked puppy?"

He gets the sense that she already knows the answer, but the lump clogging his throat makes itself known at the prospect of having to answer. He sets his tea down with shaking hands before clasping them tightly in his lap.

"I don't think I can do it, Hen," he croaks, tears burning in his eyes. "I can't watch Christopher whenever he goes out on a date."

"You know you don't have to—"

"Of course, I do," he snaps. "Of course, I do. Because you were right, Hen. I'm not capable of being a father and walking away. So, Eddie will set up another date, and he'll ask me to babysit, and I'll say yes because I love that kid more than I love Eddie, but..." He breaks off here to clear his throat, only succeeds in lodging the lump more deeply in his throat. "But I'll be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to be early or late or right on time. And whenever he's not looking, I'll be looking for a wrongly buttoned shirt or a hair out of place or a faded lipstick mark—" The sob that claws its way to his mouth is ugly and painful, but he manages to swallow it back down before it can wake up the whole station. When Hen's hand lands on his knee, the tears roll down his cheeks and it becomes infinitely harder to catch the sobs before they can break free. "I can't do it."

"Then, don't," Hen says simply.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Have you considered telling him the truth?" She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Buck kind of wants to fall into his arms and become a little kid again.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Maybe," she hedges. "But Eddie hasn't even started dating yet, and you're already heartbroken. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I lose him completely," Buck bites out. "I can handle losing a part of Eddie. I can handle losing movie nights and lasagne four times a week. I can't handle losing all of him."

"Who says you'd lose all of him?"

"He doesn't feel the same way, Hen." He shakes his head, scrubs at his tear-straked cheeks.

"He doesn't know you're an option," she argues.

"Hen, I can't, okay? I just can't." He buries his face back in his hands. "If it was the other way round, you know, he'd be able to tell me. But I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him, I risk losing him and Christopher. If he tells me, he risks losing just me."

"There is nothing just about you, Buck," Hen says solemnly, leaning forward to cup his face and tilt his head towards her. "Especially not to Eddie."

"Hen—"

"And you know everything Eddie does is for Christopher. Have you considered that maybe he's not telling you because he's scared that both he and Chris, would lose you?"

"That's not true, though. He knows there's nothing that would keep me away from Chris."

"Does he?" Hen asks. "Because you don't seem to know that Eddie would do nothing to keep you away from Christopher."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Hen fixes him with a look, one where all her wisdom pools in her eyes and keeps you in place.

"I can't tell him, Hen." There's a finality to his words that shocks even him.

He makes his way up to the roof without looking back.

----------------

Its a long seven hours before he finds himself changing into his civies in the locker room, the torturous drag of Eddie's elbows against his as they unbutton their shirts. Normally, they'd be discussing plans for their days off, maybe splitting the chores to lighten the load. Today its stiflingly quiet. Buck wonders if its because he's normally the one to carry the conversation, or if Eddie knows something is wrong.

"Hey, uh, you free to watch Chris on Friday?"

Buck crouches down to slip his work shirt into his duffel and hide the grimace on his face.

"Always," Buck throws a grin over his shoulder. "What time?"

"Uh, seven?" Eddie says after a moment of hesitation. Buck tries not to read into it.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He grabs his duffel and makes for the door.

"You know you don't have to, right?" Eddie's voice stops him on the threshold. Buck steads himself with a hand on the doorframe. "I could get Pepa to watch him, or Carla, or, hell, Hen owes me a favour."

"Eddie," Buck clears his voice of its wobble and plasters on a smile as he turns around, "I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid like crazy."

"Yeah, I do." Eddie's face does something complicated at that, his voice so unbearably soft that Buck's heart feels like its been wrapped in barbed wire.

"Friday at seven." Buck winks at him and then he's gone, hoping he makes it to his Jeep before the tears fall.

----------------

Friday rolls around slowly.

Buck wallows in his loft for the first day, dodging texts from a sympathetic Hen and a suspicious Maddie. He only answers Eddie's, because he's pathetic and can't help lunging for his phone every time Eddie's name appears on his screen, but he manages to avoid initiating any conversations.

If Eddie notices, he doesn't mention it.

The second day he's on shift, suddenly much more difficult to hide from Hen's big eyes and Chimney's squinted ones. Even Bobby shoots him a few odd looks throughout the day. But Eddie stays mostly buried in his phone, texting someone with a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Buck has to resist the urge to stalk across the loft, rip the phone from his hands, and frisbee it right out of the bay doors.

The third day, the first twenty-four hours of their forty-eight off, Buck spends moping on his incredibly unyielding couch, all the while fantasising about rough blue fabric and the lump in the left couch cushion that's as familiar to him as his own hands.

The fourth day, Friday, has him waking up nauseous and pushing himself dangerously too far on a run for someone whose stomach only contains water. He forgoes lunch for a nap that only makes him feel worse, showers when his stomach complains at him with a rather loud growl. Then its just a few hours of focusing on the fact that he gets to see Christopher tonight.

Before he knows it, he's pulling on a soft blue tee and walking out the door.

The drive to the Diaz house stretches on forever, every tick of his blinker and honk of an angry Angelino sounding like a taunt, but he pulls into the driveway much too soon.

With a deep breath, Buck clambers out of the truck and walks up to the front door with the ridiculous notion that it feels like there's a gun digging into the small of his back. He doesn't bother knocking, not after quiet confessions over a half-packed lunchbox in the kitchen, and bursts through the door with a grin.

"Where's my favourite Diaz?" he calls out, toeing off his shoes and drifting towards the living room.

"At a sleepover," Eddie says gently, popping out from the kitchen with a stranger jittery energy clinging to him.

"Oh." Buck shuffles awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought—"

"I know I'm only second favourite," Eddie mumbles, a light flush to his cheeks as he looks up at Buck with those dangerous brown eyes of his, "but how about a night with this Diaz?"

"W-what about your, uh, date?" Buck asks, hoping the vicious curl of the word is only in his head.

"He just walked through the door," Eddie breathes.

Buck isn't proud of it, but he's not really sure there's any other way he was ever going to react to that. He freezes. Cartoonishly so. A full-on, full body freeze frame. Every muscle in his body goes taut with shock, his lungs still mid-breath, even his heart misses a beat or two in the pause.

He can't have heard it right. He can't have.

Except Eddie's staring at him with those unbelievably fond eyes of his, the rosy apples of his cheeks glowing in the dim lamplight.

Or its a joke. Yeah, a prank.

Except Eddie is chewing on the inside of his lip in the way he does when he actually is panicking, his hands flexing at his sides.

But Buck thinks hope is much more dangerous than a lightning bolt, so he doesn't let himself believe it.

"Ha-ha. You get cancelled on, Diaz?" Buck rolls his eyes and pushes past Eddie into the kitchen.

He freezes again.

The table is laid for two, a candle in the middle even though Eddie always blows out the tealights at restaurants, a bottle of wine left to breathe next to a tray of Buck's favourite enchiladas. The fancy napkins are folded into triangles on Eddie's chipped plates, Buck's favourite fork in the whole world resting on the tablecloth—the tablecloth—because apparently Eddie knows that Buck likes certain forks better than others. Eddie's shitty Bluetooth speaker is on the windowsill, the faint crooning of Hozier filling the room.

If just one drop of hope feels like a lightning bolt, this hope that rears to life in him now feels like a ladder truck.

Buck spins around to face a hesitantly hopeful Eddie. He looks smaller than he is suddenly, with a sheepish smile tucked into one cheek and his eyebrows high above those molten pools of brown, so full of love that Buck gets a little breathless with it.

"Eddie, what—"

"I heard you talking to Hen," Eddie says, not pausing in his explanation to give Buck time to worry that this is a prank because he knows Buck too well. "And she was right, Buck. I never knew you were an option." He tilts his head, tender eyes apologetic. "If I had have thought there was any way you could feel the same about me, I never would have gone on any date at all." He sighs, taking a careful step closer. "I thought I couldn't have you like this, so when Pepa suggested dating, I thought it might be a good way to move on. But I was fooling myself, Buck, because there's no moving on from the love of your life."

"Eddie." Buck opens his mouth on a thousand unknowable words before taking the two strides to wrap Eddie in a hug. "I love you," Buck breathes into his neck, eyes squeezed shut against the happy tears threatening to fall.

"I love you too," Eddie replies, wrapping his arms around Buck a little tighter than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart, Eddie."

"You broke mine first," Eddie whispers into his shoulder.

A pang of hurt in his chest has Buck pulling back to meet Eddie's eyes, arms still wrapped around his waist.

"When?"

"You died on me, Evan." Eddie sniffs, looks away for just a second before his eyes return to Buck with a longing that makes Buck want to do something truly insane. "You left."

"I came back."

"Three minutes was enough to break me in two," Eddie confesses, quiet and tender and overwhelming.

Buck thinks he's done quite well for lasting this long without jumping him, but he's no saint, so when he can't think of a reply to Eddie's heartbreak, he leans forward to steal it from his lips like he's ready to carry the weight of Eddie's heart as Atlas.

Its a dizzyingly gentle slide of lips at first, Buck afraid to shatter the illusion lest he be left holding the broken shards of his heart. But then Eddie's hand slide up from his shoulders, one to cup Buck's neck, the other to tangle in the curls he left loose after his shower, and something snaps in the miniscule atom of space between them. Eddie's mouth opens under his, and Buck readies himself to dive in when Eddie beats him to it, pulling an embarrassing noise from the bottom of Buck's lungs. Eddie pulls back with a wheezing gasp, dropping his forehead to Buck's as his chest heaves. Buck doesn't think he's ever seen anything quite as beautiful as kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz trying to find his self control.

"Come on," Eddie murmurs against his lips, "let me wine and dine you, Buckley."

Neither of them makes any move to separate any time soon.

#sami rambles #had this idea and was possessed by the spirit of eddie diaz himself #give it a chance please i beg of you #911 spoilers #911 show #911 fox #episode coda #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buck x eddie fic #buck x eddie fanfic #buddie #buck x eddie #hen wilson

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

Forbidden Words

Here we go!!!!

We are officially back! I’m very excited for this new beginning, I hope you all enjoy this silly little fic of mine!

We have some hurt/comfort, lots of fluff and cuteness too! You know me, I always write cute things.

I hope you enjoy this fic, and I have to admit that I am quite nervous about posting fics again, so I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a little feedback… please? I hope I’m not too… rusty.

Anyways, enjoy!

****

Sum up : You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pairing : Sirius Black x reader

No warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count : 5800 words

Sometimes it felt a little strange. A little uncommon. A little worrying even.

There was something about unexpected events that always got under your skin, always made you uncomfortable. Even happy accidents could shake a world, and they generally did.

It felt a little strange sometimes, when you looked up to find Sirius sitting on the other side of the table. A little uncommon to find him holding your hand in corridors. A little worrying, even, to see him smile when you knew he was sad. You had learned after a long friendship to see the signs. Detect the small anomaly in his grey eyes, the ghost of a frown he tried to hide. If you could see the signs as a friend, you acted on it now that the two of you were more than that.

It was a happy accident that brought the two of you together. A note sent by a Ravenclaw to another girl that had landed on your desk by accident, and jealousy had done the rest.

But maybe it wasn't just an accident, after all, that pushed Sirius to confess that he liked you, that convinced him to ask you out. Maybe it was simply the last piece of a puzzle fitting with the rest of this long list of signs that should have shaken some sense into him. But whether or not Sirius's decision to ask you out was the result of an accident, it had shaken your world all the same.

A real earthquake that rearranged all the pieces of your life for the better.

And after a few months of relationship, you still had moments when you forgot you were together. Sometimes the brush of his fingers as you walked down a corridor still surprised you. The sight of him sleeping in your arms, the way he called you 'darling' with the softest voice, the way he kissed you out of the blue. As if you needed to be reminded that all this was not a mere dream. Maybe it was because it was all so familiar. Laughing, and talking for hours, and holding him close… it was natural. It felt right. Like you belonged there, with him.

And the more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And you understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way Sirius made you feel, and Sirius was love.

You weren't even scared. You were just happy. You were happy it was him, even if the choice would have been unbelievable for a younger version of yourself. One of the famous pranksters? And the one who seemed almost grim, unreachable, with something about him as dark as his name… him?

As you stared at your boyfriend who was laughing at one of Lily's stupid jokes, you wondered why it took you so long to see the real Sirius behind all the rumours that ran across the Castle about him. But then, it wasn't so surprising. Sirius curated his friendships with great care and caution. He had to let you in first for you to discover him. And you were unbelievably glad he had once done so.

You realized then that despite the few months of your relationship passing in a dreamy bliss, none of you had ever said the three little words. You wondered why. Perhaps a part of you was waiting for him to say it first; the part of yourself that lacked confidence. It would explain why you had never spoken those words, even though you had been meaning them for weeks, months even. If you were to be honest about it, you were already in love when the two of you started dating.

And at the beginning you did doubt his feelings a lot. It was easier that way. If things had to go sour, it would be less painful if you expected a disaster in the first place. But by some strange kind of miracle, everything was fine. Outside of Hogwarts, the world was being turned upside-down, but your own little life was kept safe for a while longer. And Sirius was among the brightest suns to lighten the darkening sky.

So why not say it then?

You were aware of his tendency to bottle up all his emotions. The more you thought about it, the more you reckoned that he would not take this first step, even if he felt the same. And judging by the way he made you feel loved and cared for, you had no doubt that your feelings were mutual.

You reckoned it was time to take that jump.

You finished your lunch, laughing with your friends. James was being his ridiculous self, as usual, while Lily tried her best not to laugh too loudly at his antics, failing miserably. Remus and Peter were caught in a heated argument with Dorcas and Marlene about the best Honeydukes sweets, which ended in a ridiculously dramatic exit of the two girls. It was fun and warm and safe here. And all along Sirius's bark-like laugh made your moments even brighter.

After lunch, he accompanied you to your common room before heading to the Quidditch Pitch. The match opposing your two teams was coming up, it was an easy excuse for both of you to tease the other playfully.

"I can't believe you are cruel enough to support the Hufflepuff team when your own boyfriend is playing against them! Your boyfriend!"

"I'm a Hufflepuff. There is no such thing as friendships or love affairs when it comes to Quidditch."

"I feel betrayed."

"Drama queen."

He laughed at that, and you soon joined him. You couldn't help it. His laughter was too contagious.

"And now you insult me!"

"Only stating facts."

"So… does that mean you won't be happy if I win the game? Not even a little bit?"

You easily caved in as he offered you his most mischievous glance.

"Maybe a little bit…"

"Ha! See! Knew it. A traitor to your own house!"

Your joined laughter echoed through the corridors as you reached the door of the Hufflepuff common room.

"Practice well. Cause if you lose, I will tease you about it mercilessly for months," you warned him, and even though your tone was still humorous, he knew you were not truly joking.

"Better work extra hard then, ‘cause we can't have that."

He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips halfway.

"I'll see you after dinner?"

"Your common room?"

He nodded, a grin on his face as he was about to turn around and leave.

But you held him back, crashing your lips together for another kiss. Because you were alone in this corridor and so you reckoned that this moment was as good as any to finally say it.

You gathered every last ounce of your courage while you held him tight, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He chuckled, the vibrations of his laugh echoing in your whole body.

"Someone's extra needy today, huh?" he teased, although he held you with the same tender embrace.

You took a deep breath and dived. But your voice could only come out as a whisper.

"That's because I love you."

You waited for his answer. You waited. But only silence came.

At last, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and you thought he would say it back. But when he spoke again it was as if he hadn't heard you at all.

"Have to go to practice. I'll see you tonight."

And with that he strode away, and disappeared.

Sirius was pacing. He was holding a quaffle in his hands, making it twirl or holding it too tightly. He was pacing, back and forth across the boys’ dormitory while Remus, Peter and James looked at him with worried looks painted on their faces.

They knew what this was about. They knew the reason for his pacing, for the way he held the quaffle as if he wanted to crush it between his palms, for the tears that threatened to escape and for his ragged breathing.

He had told them about your confession. He had told them that he didn’t say a word.

And he was an idiot. A bloody idiot that was what he was. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it, couldn’t do anything at all about it. The mere thought of speaking out loud these three words made his throat tighten, his heart speed up enough to come close to exploding.

Oh, he could think about the words. He loved you. That was easy enough to admit to himself, but say it out loud? That was a whole other story.

And his friends knew perfectly why Sirius couldn’t speak, why he was on the verge of crying at the mere thought of it. The answer was obvious. But would you understand? You didn’t know him the way his friends did…

“I’m an idiot,” Sirius repeated for the hundredth time. “I’m… I don’t even know what I am at this point? But there’s no way I can say it back… I can’t do it!”

“Pads, you need to calm down,” James instructed his friend as he stood up to force Sirius to sit down on his bed.

“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? I’m fucking it all up! I finally have a great relationship, it’s all going brilliantly… It’s more than brilliant even! Bloody perfect! And then…”

He threw the quaffle against the wall in frustration.

He looked at the ball rolling on the ground for a moment, until it came to a stop. He heaved a sigh then, and buried his face in his hands.

“They really are going to just… ruin every single good thing in my life. Even when I finally think that I’m out of this mess…”

“Hey, don’t say that,” James rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Remus and Peter walked to their friends to sit by their side on Sirius’s bed.

“You’re free now, Padfoot,” James reassured him. “You ran away from this hellish place. You have nothing left to do with them. It’s over. You have your own family now.”

“You have us,” Peter agreed.

“And you have Y/N. You should just… tell her about this,” Remus advised.

“Easier said than done,” Sirius mumbled, finally letting his hand fall to reveal his face again.

He was paler than usual, but there were no tears, or any sign of panic on his face.

“She loves you. She told you so! You should explain it all to her, I’m sure she would understand,” Peter encouraged his friend.

“How?”

“She knows already that your family sucks. Bastards, all of them,” spat James.

“She knows some of it, not all of it,” Sirius corrected him. “She knows I ran away because of the way they treated me, she knows I live with you now. But she doesn’t know what happened. She doesn’t know why I can’t say it back.”

“Then explain it to her. She’s sweet. And as Wormtail just said, she loves you. She’ll get it. As long as you explain it to her, show her that you care… she’ll understand.”

But Sirius was not convinced.

“I’m not sure I can explain it either. I haven’t talked about it in a while.”

Silence settled upon the room. Three friends looking for a way out, a defeated boy struggling against his old demons - the ones he had thought banished for good – sitting between them.

“What if you write it down?”

Sirius looked up at Remus, frowning but not rejecting the idea just yet.

“I don’t think I can write… it down either,” Sirius finally argued.

“But the reason why you can’t express it at all? Do you think you could answer that question on paper?”

Sirius contemplated the offer for a moment, before shrugging.

“I can try.”

“Maybe he simply didn’t hear me.”

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged an unconvinced glance, but didn’t dare to argue. They didn’t want to break your heart. And besides, they didn’t really understand either why Sirius had not said these three little words back. It was obvious that he was head over heels for you, no mystery there. So… why not say it back? If you had taken the first step, why not say that he felt the same, when he clearly did?

“Maybe I should try again.”

“Maybe he wasn’t ready?” Dorcas offered an explanation with all the caution she could muster. She didn’t want to make you suffer even more than you already did.

“You think so?” you asked with a shaky voice.

“Well… you know how Sirius can be sometimes,” Marlene added. “He does have a tendency to… bottle it all up. You know?”

“Yeah… that’s true.”

“His parents fucked up with his head. I think that… since then… he has a lot of trouble talking about his feelings.”

“But I thought he loved me…”

“Oh, he does,” Dorcas reassured you, and she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “He’s crazy about you.”

“Then why not say it? I don’t get it. He just… walked away.”

“That… was a mistake.”

“It was.”

“But there’s no need to be dramatic about this, you should simply talk about it with him.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, your voice firmer than before as you finally sat up on your bed and traded your sad eyes for an expression filled with determination. “I’m going to go see him. I’ll say I love him again, and this time, there will be no chance for him not to hear me. And if he doesn’t say anything again, I’ll ask him why.”

“That… was not exactly the plan we had come up with…”

“And I won’t cry!”

“That part is great! Keep that part of the plan! For the rest…”

“I’ll do it now!”

You stood up before your friends could stop you.

“Don’t you think you should wait for Lily to be back from her prefect meeting? I mean… she’s kind of the wise one in the group,” Dorcas argued, but you weren’t listening anymore.

No, instead, you were striding across your common room, and you opened the door wide to step in the corridor.

You were determined. A strong, independent and determined young woman. You could do it.

But you had barely reached the corner of the corridor that led to the magical staircase that you bumped right into Sirius…

“Ouch…” you mumbled, suddenly trapped in Sirius embrace.

“You’re okay?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

“Yeah. You?”

“I play beater, remember?”

“You’ve got a point.”

You couldn’t refrain a smile, even if you were upset, and neither could he. You remained like this for a moment, standing still in the corridor while you stared at each other. A long moment passed, filled with silence and the way Sirius made butterflies gather in your stomach. He did so every time he was close, every time he stared at you like this… every time…

“I love you.”

You spoke them out loud again. The three words. Three marvellous, meaningful, forbidden words…

Sirius didn’t say anything, he merely closed his eyes with a pained expression painted all over his features.

You were ready to cry.

“So… you did hear me, earlier. The first time I said it, you did hear me.”

Slowly, in silence, Sirius nodded.

“You just don’t feel the same…”

He opened his eyes again, frowning hard.

“No… that’s not that at all.”

“But you’re not saying it back.”

“I know.”

“Because you’re not ready?”

He shook his head, clenching his jaw.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“You want to break up with me?”

“What?!” he looked at you as if you had gone mad all of a sudden, and there was also a hint of fear in his grey eyes. “Of course I don’t want to break up with you, are you crazy?”

“I don’t get it then…”

He finally let go of you, reached for something in the back pocket of his trousers.

He handed you a folded piece of parchment, and you frowned at him. But you took the note anyway. Looking at it more closely, you noticed that it was a letter.

“I… I really struggle with… these things,” Sirius tried to explain everything, but the words stumbled from his mouth and came out all wrong and distorted and clumsily spoken. “So… thought I… could try to explain by writing it down. It was Moony’s idea, actually. Not sure it worked that well. But I… did my best, I guess…”

You made a movement to open the letter, but he stopped you before you could unfold the parchment.

“Wait, don’t… not… not while I’m here. You… you can read it on your own, I don’t want to see you read it. I’ll be in the Gryffindor common room. I’ll wait for you. You… you read this, and you take some time to think. I’ll wait. All night long, if you need it.”

Before you could protest, he had turned around and was disappearing again.

You spent a long time on your own. You had hidden yourself in your favourite spot, a small gap between a statue and the wall of an alcove on the third floor. You could be alone there, no one could see you from the corridor. Only Sirius knew about that hiding spot, and you didn’t want to be disturbed. You needed to think. You needed some time to assimilate all the information Sirius had entrusted in you.

He didn’t go into details. You reckoned he never would. You had understood a long time ago that his parents had done terrible things to him. That his life at Grimmauld Place was hell. But he had revealed, through this letter, a few glimpses into his childhood, and you didn’t know what to do with it all. What to do with the knowledge of so much undeserved pain?

It explained why he didn’t speak out the words you longed to hear though. Why these three little words were banished from his mouth, if not from his heart. Why he couldn’t gather the strength to explain it all in person. You understood, or well… you didn’t understand what he had been through, but you could fathom why he carried the struggles and pain he kept carefully hidden.

No details in this letter of his, mere fragments in an attempt to explain it all, to make you understand, even if just a little bit. He was scared to lose you. The feeling oozed from every line traced in dark ink, appeared behind every word.

The final explanation was enough to sum it all up.

They never said these words to me, and I’ve never told them to anyone either. Worst, they changed the meaning of these words I longed to hear to make them feel like pain.

I can’t say it. I can’t write it down. It needs to fully change back into its original meaning first. But I do care. I do want to be with you. I just… can’t express it right.

You brushed a tear before it would escape your eye as you read the last words of his letter one more time.

Forgive me.

You shook your head, before standing up, and finally walking down the corridor towards the Gryffindor tower.

What a silly boy he was, sometimes…

Sirius had remained awake most of the night. He thought at first that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but then exhaustion caught up with him. He did go to Quidditch practice for over two hours after all. That, and the emotional tiredness that day had brought him… it weighed too much on him to stay up all night. He fell in Morpheus’ arms around midnight, without noticing.

When you walked in the room, he was there. None of you had gone to eat dinner in the Great Hall, you could see the half-full plate the boys must have brought up for Sirius while he waited for you. You felt bad for taking so much time to think.

He seemed peaceful when he slept. Long dark hair a mess, half-hiding his face. Breathing soft, gentle, steady. Eyelashes drawing two dark lines above sharp cheekbones.

You loved him. It was enough.

You picked up a blanket from one of the armchairs along with a cushion. You lifted his head with caution, trying not to wake him up as you put the cushion under him to get him more comfortable. You covered him with the blanket to keep him warm. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up.

You brushed away from his eyes a few strands of hair, gesture tender and gentle, before dropping a kiss to his cheek and turning to leave.

You were stopped before you could take a step towards the door, fingers wrapping around yours.

When you turned back towards Sirius, he was rubbing his eyes, trying to chase away the remnants of sleep that lingered there.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, his voice made rough and deep by sleep. “Have you read the letter?”

“Yes, I did.”

He sat up, moving so you could sit by his side on the couch.

“Are you mad?” he asked, his voice shaky.

But you rested your head on his shoulder, and he felt reassured all of a sudden.

“Of course not. I’m not mad at all. I mean… not at you. I think I could commit a murder though. Several, actually.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close, and you melted in his embrace.

“That’s… kind of hot. Not gonna lie.”

It was your time to laugh.

“I thought you would be mad,” he admitted after a short silence.

“Of course not. It’s okay. Nothing to forgive. I understand. I’ll wait. All the time you need. And if you never feel ready, that’s okay too. I know I’m not the problem, it’s them.”

“I feel like… like I’m failing you.”

“Of course not. Don’t feel like that, okay?”

“You should be able to hear it…”

“It’s okay. Now that I know, I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

He leaned down to kiss you, and you welcomed his lips with relief. Things were back to normal again.

“Can I ask you one more question?”

Sirius gave you a warm smile, and merely nodded as an answer. He brushed his knuckles across your cheek in a tender gesture.

“You said that… they have never told you they loved you… is it true?”

“I mean… They don’t. Love me. Why would they lie?”

“Right…”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re the first to speak these words to me.”

“I’m the first? Ever?”

“To really mean it? Yeah… you’re the first.”

“But James…”

“The boys are my family, but we don’t confess our undying love towards each other on a daily basis, and certainly not so… plainly.”

You played with the collar of his white shirt. His tie was long gone, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Do you mind if I say it again, every once in a while?” you asked after some time.

“I won’t be able to say it back. Not for now.”

“I get it. That’s okay.”

“Then… if you don’t mind that I can’t say it back… Of course, I don’t mind. It’s a nice thing to hear. The best thing, actually.”

The two of you exchanged a smile, and you lost your gaze to the flames dancing in the hearth before you while Sirius dropped a kiss to your forehead.

Yes, things were back to normal.

And you loved him. It was enough.

A few more months passed; it was the beginning of Spring. Or rather, the end of Winter.

Snow had melted, the grass was green and muddied by the heavy rains. Skies grey and trees covered in boughs. It was the beginning of a new cycle filled with life. Soon, it would be warm enough to spend afternoons on the grounds, help Hagrid with his garden, wonder through the woods where it was forbidden to go.

But for now, the sky was grey still, a rainy afternoon during which the droplets fell with a rhythmic pattern against the windowpanes. You studied hard with your friends, even though Sirius and James were less and less focused as the afternoon passed by.

It was that afternoon that something finally clicked in your brain, and you realized what had been right before you for a long, long time.

You had to refill your bottle of ink, but were too lazy to get up and walk all the way across the Gryffindor common room to get your bag. You were too comfortable sitting there, legs crossed on the warm carpet before the fire, your back resting against Sirius’s arm.

You turned your head to check how much ink was left in your bottle, but frowned at the sight.

The bottle was full.

You looked around, spotted an empty bottle next to Sirius’s bag. He had replaced your bottle with one of his own. You smiled at the sight, ready to discard the act as a cute attention from your boyfriend when you realized that Sirius had not said a word about it.

He had replaced the bottle in silence, as if he expected you wouldn’t notice. And the more you thought about it, the more you could think of many occurrences of these sweet attentions. Little acts of care and kindness he performed without having you asking for it, without bringing it up, almost hoping you wouldn’t notice it at all.

Like… the way he always carried the heavy piles of books you burrowed on a weekly basis to the library. The way he brought you your favourite cookie every Wednesday after your arithmancy class because you had a long afternoon that day and he knew you were craving for sugar after so many classes. The way he picked up your scarf and folded it back into your bag whenever you forgot it, which happened very often. The way he handed you one of his hairbands when you were nervous and started fidgeting. The way he gave you extra chips at lunch because he knew how much you loved these. The way he…

… the way he loved you.

As you stared at this ordinary bottle of ink, all the pieces suddenly started to fit together.

He loved you. Truly. He couldn’t say it, but he showed it instead. He had always done so, for months. You should have understood it before…

When the bottle of ink was empty, Sirius almost threw it away, but you stopped him, filling it again instead with some new ink. Your boyfriend raised a surprised eyebrow.

“If you want to reuse the same bottle each time from now on, you need to buy a proper one at least…”

“No, I keep this one.”

“It’s… just a bottle. Why would you keep this one?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

He chuckled mockingly, shaking his head.

“You’re mad.”

But as he turned around, faking to look for something in his bag, you did notice the tip of his ears turning red…

You were both drunk, but Sirius was drunk. You… you had just overcome the stage of tipsiness, but were not full-blown drunk yet. Sirius was though.

Nothing surprising. The last match of the season was over. Gryffindor 190 – Slytherin 60. A celebration was in order, and the Marauders were not ones to fail their reputation, especially when it came to celebrating winning the Quidditch cup.

It had been a fun evening, but it was time to call it a night. At least, it was for you. Many of your friends were still celebrating in the common room, but you pulled Sirius up to his feet and helped him up the stairs to his dormitory despite his protests.

“You’re very drunk, that’s enough,” you admonished.

He tried to argue, but you pushed him down on his bed. He groaned, making you laugh.

“You’re evil.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Very much so, I’ll admit…”

Alcohol made his words slow and slurred. His voice was deeper too, which made you blush uncontrollably. Luckily, Sirius was too drunk to notice your reaction and tease you about it.

“Come on, you need a good night of sleep,” you admonished. “I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re sober enough to get up on your own again by then.”

But he stopped you as you walked towards the door.

“No! Stay! I’m not even sleepy.”

“You can’t even keep your eyes properly opened.”

“I can! I don’t want you to go. Stay. Stay for the night.”

“Babe… that’s against the rules.”

“Who caaaaaares?” he whined, and you could hear in his voice that he was rolling his eyes.

“You’re drunk. Nothing is going to happen tonight.”

“I mean… I wanted cuddles, but if you want more… I’m all for it.”

You laughed, but complied anyway. You always caved in, after all.

“Alright, just cuddles. Move over.”

He grinned up at you and soon you were lying with him, holding him close. He soon closed his eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was a mere whisper, already half drowned in sleep and slowed down by the liquor.

“You know… I can’t say it but… I do feel like that. I feel the same. I feel like that for you. Like… a lot. An awful lot.”

You didn’t need any more explanation to know perfectly well what Sirius meant, what he was talking about. You smiled the brightest of smiles.

“I love you too, Sirius.”

But he had already drifted to sleep…

It was your last evening at Hogwarts.

The NEWTs were over, the year had gone by too quickly. It was the beginning of Summer. Or rather, the end of Spring.

Clouds had lifted, the grass was green and dry and soft, just the way you loved it. Flowers grew over slopes and bushes and trees had found back their glorious shades of green.

It was a happy season, with sunlight and laughter. But it was coming to an end.

You would not be back at Hogwarts. It was your last day. And you felt sad about it. The next day, you would carry your suitcase for the last time to the train station, and take the Hogwarts Express never to come back home.

But rather than to spend your last day being depressed, your friends had planned a series of festivities and games to make sure that your last memories in the Castle would be worth remembering. And they succeeded. None of you would ever forget this day. Pranks rained over the Castle, last gifts from the infamous Marauders. Parties, and games all afternoon. So much laughter, enough to fill up entire rooms.

It had been magical, and you were thankful to have encountered such a happy mess of people during your stay in this school.

Outside, the world was dangerous and uncertain and dark. But you had been granted one last day under the sun, and you reckoned that it was enough for now. It would be enough to get by for a while; for as long as you needed to endure to see the sun shine brightly again.

Dinner was over, and you were taking a walk with Sirius across the grounds. It was past curfew, but you weren’t worried about being caught. You doubted any teacher would tell you anything, let alone punish you on your last evening.

You sat down together by the shores of the quiet lake. Above your heads, the night sky wore stars by the hundreds, the thousands even. You could guess the purple shades of the Milky Way far above. There was no moon, but there were so many stars shining that night that it didn’t really matter.

Sirius stared at you while you watched the sky, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence; this intimate kind of quiet that made him feel safe and warm. He stared at you, with your head thrown back to look up at the shining lights, and the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He wished he could stop time for a while, so he could keep on admiring you like this. A simple moment that made his heart swell like never before.

You had a talent, really, to make the world brighter. A real earthquake that had reorganized his life for the better. You had shaken all his boundaries, all the darkest parts of his mind, to shade a bright hope on his life. One day, he would heal. He believed in that now. He had started to believe he could escape his family when he found his brothers. Then he found you, and you promised him something that even his best friends could not have granted him: hope for peace and quiet.

He smiled at the thought. Most people would not think of peace and quiet when thinking about his plans after Hogwarts. Joining the fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Buy that motorcycle he had been dreaming about for months. And build a home with you that he would fill with his leather jackets, his rock music and his bark-like laughter.

It would be quiet though. In his mind and heart, it would be peaceful, like never before. Because he would move in with you, in this apartment you had already found together, and it would be a home. A brand-new home, just for the two of you, where your friends – your family – would always be welcome. A home with you.

He was sad to leave Hogwarts and all the wonderful memories he had gathered along the years, but he was excited too. It was a brand-new chapter in a book he would keep on writing with you. And it felt right. Like he belonged wherever you were.

And the more he thought about it, the more he reckoned that this was the true definition of the word everyone talks about but none can truly define. And he understood why. It was a feeling alright, but a feeling that got so entwined with a person, the two became synonyms. It was love. Love was the way you made him feel, and you were love.

When the words finally formed on his tongue, he found that he was ready. You had rewritten their meaning.

“I love you, Y/N.”

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #the marauders #marauders era #hp fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #imagine

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leclerced · 4 months

Note

Its half past 4 am and i need to go to bed too but I’ll squeeze out a final brainrot for us to sleep to

A driver on the way to winning wdc, a ROOKIE no less and after actually winning you get absolutely HATE fucked by max. Thats all i really want in life. Imagine the sexual tension all throughout the season mixed with immense hatred and hes just kidnapping you back to the hotel and letting out all the anger and frustration towards you that build up over the year until you’re completely fucked out and unable to walk for the week. Im talking CRYING from overstimulation here.

That championship may not be his but that pussy sure is now.

🫀

oh my goood. i want her to he a redbull driver bc imagine the drama of them getting a fourth driver’s title in a row like seb did but it’s a rookie instead of max?? the drama. sorry i rambled for like an hr. oopsies i meant to be quick.

can so imagine she’s not expecting to win any races on her debut season but wins on debut and everyone is shocked when she overtakes max and the team allows it, knows they’ll still get the one two finish plus they’ll get the amazing publicity of another first time redbull driver winning on debut, making history as the first female driver winning on debut.

max is furious about it. they're not given team orders which makes it so much worse, she genuinely overtakes him and they warned him she'd be making a move on him but he didn't expect her to successfully pass him or to maintain the lead and fend him off for the rest of the race. he’s not a baby who would demand team orders in his favor, especially when he knows they wouldn’t listen because they want her to win. he’s angry they want her to win. he’s angry he wants her to win and make history like he did. he hates that he was so enthusiastic about having a rookie as a teammate, thinking he’d get to show someone the ropes and all that. but she’s beating him on debut?

it gets better with the next race because he wins and she comes in third, and he feels like everything is falling into place again. until the next race when she gets pole and wins from it, leading every lap with him stuck in third behind charles, a switch-up on the previous weeks podium lineup. it continues like that with them nearly taking each other out a few times fighting for the lead, but somehow they don’t crash out throughout the season.

i can so see them taunting each other behind closed doors, where media won't catch it. also them getting drunk and flirty and pretending it didn't happen the next day. and i can see her being happy no matter what because she's doing so well on her debut season but max is only happy and nice when he wins a race and is leading the championship, so on the nights he wins, they somehow end up together in the back of the vip area of some club, both internally debating if fucking your teammates a good idea.

she wins by a handful of points, only three, and when she’s on the first place podium she shoves that number in his face as she sprays her champagne down on him. he wants to bend her over the podium and make her swallow down his cock instead of the champagne she gulps down. he pushes the thought from his mind when she’s wiping it from her jaw as it drips down her neck and soaks her suit more than charles’s spray already had.

he doesn’t even plan on acting on his pent up fantasies until he bumps into her and charles on his way out and she has the audacity to congratulate him on second in the championship, as if he wasn’t less than half a second away from behind first. as if she wasn’t first. he’s grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from charles, ignoring her questions of where they’re going. she only asks twice before she falls into step next to him, her footsteps faster than his to keep up with his longer stride. she’s got her trophy, the first place race trophy in her hands and he wants to smash it thinking about how he’s going to have to give her his driver’s championship trophy. how they’re going to engrave her name and break the streak of max verstappen signatures crawling up the trophy.

she realizes what’s happening when they get in the car and he puts his hand on her knee once they’re driving then asks if it’s okay and she’s like, “are you asking if it’s okay to touch me or to kidnap me?” and he insists he’s not kidnapping her and she recounts how he grabbed her, led her to his car, opened the passenger door and pushed her inside. he blushes and apologizes, his hand still on her knee and she tells him it’s okay. they get to the hotel and she follows him to his room and neither of them speak until they’re inside and he’d tell her to say red if he needs to stop, and she asks why he would need to stop and he’s like, “well i don’t plan on stopping until you tell me to. so say red when you need me to stop.”

once she agrees he’s kissing her like she’s never been kissed and pushing her against the wall, his hand squeezing her throat and his knee pushing between her thighs. he holds her there until she’s turning away from the kiss for air, and then he steps back and tells her to strip and get on the bed. she’d stare at him for a moment and he grabs her and pushes her towards the bed and snaps at her to get on it. she strips to her underwear and starts getting on the bed and he’d tell her he didn’t say to leave them on and she turns back to him, fully dressed, and tells him to undress too. he tells her he doesn’t need to yet, and she doesn’t get why until she’s almost screaming from her third orgasm back to back. two from his fingers and one from his mouth, and he's still going. hands curled around her thighs to hold her in place.

she's crying and begging him to fuck her, and he's moaning into her pussy that she tastes so good he doesn't want to stop tasting her yet. she loses count on how many orgasm she's had before he's done eating her out, she can't tap out before they've even fucked, but she's so sensitive his tongue lapping on her clit hurts.

when he finally gives in and lines up with her entrance the stretch of his cock in her sensitive cunt nearly makes her black out. he barely lets her adjust before he's fucking her like he won tonight, telling her she looks so pretty when she cries and how good she feels around him. asking her who's making her feel this good and stopping until she begs him to keep going and answers his question. he'd tease her between kisses and hickeys he leaves on her now that she's too fucked out to object, hopes they won't be able to find makeup good enough to cover the bruises he leaves on her throat.

he keeps pulling back from kisses and spitting on his dick fucking in and out of her, saying things she can't understand in dutch, or maybe it's english and she's too fucked out to make sense of his rambling. he'd grasp her jaw when she opens it in a loud moan and hold it open before spitting in it. he'd taunt her with all the passive aggressive remarks she made during the season and when she just moans in response he’d make fun of her for being too fucked out to respond.

and then they don’t see each other over break except for work stuff and nothing happens, she gets her trophy and the exchange goes normally. and then she wins the first race of the season and she gets a repeat of the last race of the last season. after that no matter who finishes the end up in bed together, if she wins he’s angry and takes his frustration out on her, but if he wins they just go at it like rabbits and right for dominance, he’s more playful and less commanding. he’d let her suck his cock for an hour while he tells her how good she’s making him feel, telling her that this is what he deserves; a race win and a cock drunk whore on her knees choking on his cock.

#ask #🫀anon #mv1

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strawberrystepmom · 7 months

Text

pairing: vampire!natsuo todoroki x f!reader

word count: 3.5k

about: natsuo is handsome, well dressed, charming, and everything you’ve ever wanted but something tells you there’s more to him than meets the eye - given you can only see him after the sun sets.

contents: sfw, no smut here but suggestive behavior in the final scene. modern au, the todoroki family are vampires, natsuo is mid twenties and so is reader, a scene containing touya, fuyumi, and shoto, meet cute, reader struggles to sleep at night, mentions of blood. i will be further elaborating on this dynamic/au in the future!

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! welcome to week three! this is just good ol fashioned halloween romcom nonsense you'd come to expect from me. natsuo was the pinkprint and deserves his time in the sun so this is the first of TWO stories about him. the next will have smut, pinkie swear, but in the meantime hopefully this is something everyone can enjoy! thank you for reading ♡

Natsuo Todoroki, at his core, is a morning person.

How is one a vampire and a morning person? The two ideas seem contradictory but it’s just who he is, unable to be changed no matter how much time passes.

As a child, he would solemnly park himself at window sills and wrap himself up in the complicated and lacy curtains his mother dressed them in to keep light from getting inside. Waking with the sweet song of the birds outside his own heavy curtained windows, he’d watch the orange ball rise higher and higher into the sea of blue that it would come to rest in, only to be pulled away by his older siblings or his mother tutting at him for messing with the curtains again.

He wondered what it would be like to be the sun. Bright and blazing, warming everyone around him without effort. It’s just what the sun naturally does.

Now, as an adult, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his scrubs after his shift in the emergency department ends and wonders what it must be like to be the sun as he wanders out onto the streets, zipping his jacket up over his chest and sinking into the warmth. It’s cold and wet in a way that is typical of an October night, the sliver of the moon sinking lower and lower as the sun begins to make her ascent to start the day.

He works his overnight shift for obvious reasons.

Dr. Todoroki’s reputation as affable and easy to work with is something the entire shift celebrates when he’s scheduled. He is well liked but nobody bothers to ask him to stick around once the shift is over because he’ll turn down the offers anyway.

There’s nothing more that he enjoys than his walks before dawn. It’s the only time he can even get this close to daylight, to feel the world heat up while he remains cold.

Tonight, though, he isn’t alone on his walk and he’s all too acutely aware of where you walk several feet away from him on the adjacent sidewalk. He smells you long before he sees you, one of his fangs that keeps retracted at all times jutting out of his jaw and slicing his lip, and after verifying he isn’t bleeding he decides to keep a respectable distance despite his concern for your well being.

Why in the world are you out walking the city sidewalks by yourself at 3:58 AM?

You notice him, tall and broad and wearing green scrubs that obviously indicate he just got done working at the hospital, but you keep your distance. Walking the city is a choice you make well aware of the danger that could befall you but you also live by the “don’t start any and there won’t be any” mantra when it comes to trouble. So far it has served you well but it isn’t like you’ve ventured far from where you live, only around 6 blocks away from your tiny interior apartment.

You struggle to sleep at night, trying every remedy under the sun but it never comes, so you walk until you can’t think any longer. You pace until you stumble into your home after the sun rises, almost too exhausted to move and then finally you are tired enough to sleep.

Looking around the sidewalk, you splash in a puddle and hear a chuckle from the sidewalk across from you. Natsuo stands, hands still buried in his pocket, glancing at you from the corner of his eye and curiosity gets the better of you so you turn in his direction with your arms folded across your chest.

“What’s so funny?” Your tone is light hearted and he catches onto it immediately, gray eyes casting you more than a sidelong glance. The distance between the two of you keeps him from getting too good of a look at you but he likes what he can see.

Natsuo finds you undeniably attractive, there’s something sweet about you besides your scent, and it makes him even more anxious to know you’re pacing all alone. The area around the hospital tends to be pretty safe but he worries what would happen if you went further down the road, where the amount of street lights grows fewer the further you go into the residential areas. So he bites, simply in an effort to make sure that you’re alright and will be okay after he departs.

“You, I guess.”

You laugh and he feels a thousand sunrises in his chest. Whatever he witnessed through curtains, whatever he has seen rising above the horizon like a beautiful balloon in the sky will never compare to this. He isn’t sure how to act so he slaps his hands against his thighs, shrugging and offering his signature Dr. Todoroki grin, toothsome and bright.

“I’ll be here all week.”

There’s an undeniable pull between you and this man but you stop just short of walking across the street. He seems safe and trustworthy, a good haircut and a killer smile but all of those traits were also attributed to Ted Bundy at one point or another so you decide to play it safe and stay in your place across from him, arms folded over your chest to ward off the chill in the air.

He watches your body language change and tries to match it the best that he can, keeping his hands buried in his pockets and his chin tucked into the collar of his jacket. Making you anxious is the last thing he wants and he won’t prod if you aren’t interested but his gut tells him to take a chance, to break the silence and see where it gets him.

So he does.

“Seriously though, why are you out here at this time of night?”

Shrugging, you squeeze yourself where your arms are wrapped over your torso. It’s a soothing action, the equivalent of a hug. You feel better after it.

“Do you want the long story or the short one?”

“Whichever you’re most comfortable sharing.”

He chuckles again and you focus on his face, deep dimples visible even from several feet away and your heart beats hard against your chest. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s obviously employed…you shake your head to loosen this line of thinking, still holding yourself tightly when he takes the steps toward you to close the gap. You hop back from the edge of the sidewalk slightly, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you, and Natsuo feels that ache in his upper jaw that indicates his teeth are going to descend.

He takes ten steps to the side of you, leaving ample room between your bodies, and the ache stops enough that he can focus on what you’re about to say. You appreciate how respectful he is of your space although you have no idea his reasons aren’t wholly altruistic and it softens you toward the man further.

“I have never really slept well at night,” you start and he hums empathetically. He understands more than you could begin to know. “Even when I was a kid, it’s like sleep terrified me. Closing my eyes and not thinking and just being for a while. What could be more terrifying than not overthinking all night?”

“I get it. I have the same problem, that’s why I’m on overnights.”

You nod, smiling at him.

"Good to know there's someone else that doesn't have good luck with melatonin gummies."

A kindred spirit. Perhaps that's why you still feel so drawn to him despite the ten big steps between your bodies and you relax for the first time since he laughed at you, taking the time to really look at him now that he's so close.

He's just as handsome as you imagined when your mind was filling in blanks from across the street, hair as white as snow, tanned complexion, gray eyes. It's intimidating to see a man who looks like he belongs in the pages of a magazine face to face, much less one who is obviously flirting with you and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

Noticing your discomfort, he decides to introduce himself.

"I'm Natsuo. I'm a doctor." He cringes at himself upon realizing what he just said but you smile, arms still folded but posture slackening. "I don't know why I felt the need to tell you that."

You introduce yourself and he takes the time to memorize your name, repeating it and savoring the feeling of it across his tongue. A name as pretty as the person carrying it.

"It's okay, at least I know that you aren't some creep that stole a pair of scrubs off of the dude you just beat down for them. Unless..."

Natsuo laughs and heat rushes to your cheeks.

"Nah, I'm more of a lover than a fighter. My fatal flaw some might say."

You laugh and that same feeling blooms within him, rivaling the sun that is steadily beginning to rise over the buildings in the distance. He sighs when he sees it, removing his hand from his pocket and rubbing it over his face.

"I don't want to be weird or anything but I do this every night and..." he trails off, uncertain of what he wants to ask you, but you seem to get the message.

"I do, too. Same place and same time?"

Smiling, he nods and begins to walk in the direction opposite you toward where his car is parked at the hospital. He has to get home before the sun rises and he'll be cutting it close if he continues to slow play his departure but it's worth it for another second spent around you.

"Thanks for tonight. I needed it," you admit aloud and his ears turn red in response, bright and vivid through the snowy white hair barely covering them.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

“Where do you think you’re off to lookin’ so pretty?”

Natsuo rolls his eyes as he readjusts the buttons of the long sleeved shirt he donned just for the occasion of the evening while his brother reaches up and attempts to ruffle his meticulously spiked hair. It isn’t hard work for him to dodge his shorter brother but he shoves him with his shoulder anyway, frowning.

“Stop it, Touya. I’m not going anywhere you need to know about.”

The thing about saying those words in reference to you, feeling them leave his lips in shapes he would rather not experience, is that they make his stomach flip. Anxiety turns the organ inside out, the man sighing through an army of uneasy butterflies in his stomach. He knows he can’t tell anyone about you, least of all his family. They have their own secrets but they’ve always strictly forbidden the taboo romance between a vampire and a human knowing it only ends in pain.

He’ll risk the trouble for you, though.

You - sweet, easy going, beautiful. Glowing with life beneath the dimly lit booths you snuggle in to press your knees against his long after the sun has set. Grinning as you grab his hand beneath the surface of the bar four blocks away from your apartment and two away from the hospital, the floors sticky with substances neither of you have cared to imagine.

It has been months since that fateful first dawn walk, the two of you making a habit out of striding side by side. Natsuo ignores the ache in his jaw, you ignore the way he hasn't asked you for anything physical yet beyond holding hands, assuming he's just a little old fashioned.

“I’m starting to think you have a secret, little brother.”

He's keeping secrets from more than just Touya; the guilt gnaws at him if he thinks about it too long so he doesn't.

Natsuo shakes his head and raises his brows, a smirk playing across his lips. He happens to know where his own brother goes after the sun sets, eagerly bringing books and paintings to the home of the vampire that has been alleged to have started their family curse by biting Enji, their father; a woman perpetually 26 despite the many many centuries that have passed since her turn.

“No worse than the one you’re keeping, I can assure you that.”

With that, Touya clears his throat and takes his space, fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants rather than making eye contact with his brother. Caught red handed and he knows it, he chooses to play offense rather than explain himself.

“You know about that?”

His younger brother smiles and claps him on the back with a nod.

“Keep mine and I’ll keep yours?”

“Obviously, dumbass.”

Taking a deep breath, Natsuo rolls his shoulders and lifts his hands to his hair, fingers running through it to calm him down. He yanks at the strands for a moment, thick fingers twining between the white strands, and Touya wonders what has him so uncertain.

It’s not like he’s dating a human.

“I’m seeing someone and we have a date tonight.”

Oh, he’s dating a human.

“Jesus, Natsu,” Touya’s brows pinch together in the middle and he wraps an arm around his brothers’ shoulder, pulling him to his side. “You’re such a simp.”

Scoffing, the taller of the two looks down at his brother and frowns. He’s never truly astounded by Touya’s audacity but it does catch him off guard considering the only bigger rule you can break than consorting with a human in the Todoroki household is the one he’s currently attempting to bend.

“Who taught you that word? Your thousand year old girlfriend?” Touya returns his scoff, shoving him with the arm that isn’t wrapped around his shoulder and raising his voice. “She isn’t a thousand fuckin-”

Before he can finish the sentence, Fuyumi peaks around the corner and arches her brow wordlessly. Neither of the men can hide anything from their older sister so they don't bother, scooting over to let her into Natsuo's walk in closet just like they used to do as children when they were discussing the events of the world.

"So you're both breaking the big two?"

Natsuo sighs and nods sadly but Touya chuckles, clapping his sister on the shoulder just as he did his brother. That's one thing the siblings have always appreciated about one another - everyone is equal. Equal to give shit to, equal to protect, even Shouto who they all go to pains to take care of even more than the older siblings do one another.

"Please don't tell dad," Natsuo isn't above begging if it means he gets to keep you. He looks up at his sister through his lashes and she smiles back at him. "Of course, Natsu. We're all breaking some rule at the end of the day."

Both of her brothers raise their eyebrows and she shrugs, zipping her lips dramatically while the youngest of the four peeks around the corner with a deadpan glance.

"What are you guys doing in here?"

They look at his mismatched eyes and bunch together, making enough room for the fourth of them to squeeze inside.

"Natsuo's dating a human."

Fuyumi and Natsuo open their mouth to gasp and Shouto shakes his head. How his elder siblings haven't noticed at this point is beyond him, given Natsuo narrowly stumbles in the door as the sun rises every single morning, but the youngest has always been the most astute of the bunch.

"Yeah, obviously. He reeks of her every time he comes home."

Despite the terror of being caught, Natsuo belly laughs. There's nobody else he could be shoved in a closet with, admitting to lying to their parents and breaking the codes of honor the entire family have taken seriously as long as they've existed.

They all have secrets, Fuyumi was right. He is relieved and he feels full of love, group hugging his siblings and squeezing them as tightly as he can until all three start to groan and slap at his biceps.

"Okay well now that the cat is out of the bag can you guys leave me alone? I'm already running late."

Fuyumi and Shouto are the easy sells, wishing him luck and leaving to go gossip across the house but Touya sticks around, looking at his little brother that has become a full grown man with his own life and career and apparently, love.

He's proud but he'll never say it out loud instead choosing to further antagonize.

"Does she know?"

Natsuo shakes his head and Touya hisses through his teeth, clapping his brother on the shoulder and walking out of the closet.

"Good luck with that."

He knows that he'll need it.

"Do you want to come inside?"

This is the first time you've offered the option to Natsuo, his discomfort with any physical affection keeping you from broaching the subject this far, but the time feels right. The two of you spent the evening at an outdoor art show, admiring pottery and painting with your hands joined.

You are undeniably attracted to this man and you hope that you aren't misreading his affection toward you as more than simple friendliness, your evenings spent with him some of the best you've had since you can remember. Your hands remain linked, fingers twined and dangling in the small space between your bodies where you both lean against the frame of your front door.

Natsuo smiles down at you and it feels like the world disappears, walls and floors and atmosphere melting into something that doesn't matter when he looks at you. You've known it for awhile but there's no denying it - you're in love with him and asking him to spend the night, or morning rather, feels like the most logical next step.

His hesitation makes you doubt yourself, though.

"You don't have to, Natsuo. I know you're busy an-" he cuts you off by grasping your cheek with his free hand, thumb running along the soft skin beneath it. He has never been this close to you before, his teeth aching despite his self restraint, and he knows that tonight he must decide to be honest or leave you behind.

The thought of leaving you behind breaks his heart. You are the sun that he has so badly craved his entire life and there's no way he can continue without you, even if it means telling the truth and putting you both in the way of trouble in the process.

"I want to."

Smiling, you reach for the door and unlock it, keying in the code that you know he watches. You hope he has it memorized, if not you'll remind him again later. The lock unlatches, a mechanical whirring in the door, and as soon as the door opens he has you pulled against his body.

Pressed against the door, he finally kisses you. It's hungry, something raw and fiery beneath his exterior coming to the surface and you know that you'd let him have every bit of you right here on the floor if he wanted it. The scent of his cologne and the feel of his hands across your sweater clad body make you moan into his mouth and you yelp when something pokes your lip, assuming he nipped you a little harder than intended.

Mortified, Natsuo backs away from you with wide eyes and you see his tooth poking out of his top lip. The tip of it is dotted with blood from your lip and he backs away from you unable to hide his horror.

"I'm so sorry, I..." he mumbles a string of apologies and you put your hands on his chest to stop him, close enough to him that his body reacts naturally and his second fang descends through his jaw and peeks out of his top lip to join the first.

Your wide eyes gaze at him but hold no fear and he marvels at you. You are so trusting, so brave, so kind despite now knowing he's a...

"Vampire."

It takes all of you to contain the smile on your face from becoming too big when the word leaves your lips. You had an inkling something was different about him but you never assumed it would be this.

Dr. Natsuo Todoroki, your walking buddy, your companion, is a vampire.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Using the grip you have on his chest, you pull him down until he's face level with you. The same smile dances across your face and you waste no time kissing him for real this time, paying no mind to the way he whimpers when his tongue laves over the small puncture wounds his teeth have left on your bottom lip. You let him lick over the spots until he gets his fill, head swimming and heart full.

"Yeah, me too, because I would have done all of this months ago."

Natsuo laughs, kissing you again. His brows knit together when he laps at another pinprick of blood on your lips, another sweet groan leaving him.

You taste as good as you smell and his instincts tell him that you've just given him a tiny taste of all you're willing to offer.

#natsuo todoroki x reader #todoroki natsuo x reader #kendall writes #thot-o-ween 2023

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chaoticallywriting · 1 year

Text

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Four

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: Violence against women, choking, angst, vaginal fingering, female receiving oral, p n v sex, unprotected sex (i mean she’s already preggers guys)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

It’s a month and a half later when everyone finds out. By now you're three and a half months along and all you want is to devour sweets (and any fruit) you can get your hands on. You wake up without blood on the sheets for another month, your handmaidens eye each other suspiciously before one finds the courage to speak up.

Marial fiddles with her hands before meekly asking, “have you gone to a maester, your grace?”

“What for?” You know you aren’t the best liar in the family, but you're decent. Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head and eye Marial. You play dumb brilliantly apparently because Myra speaks up next.

“You haven’t bled in months, your grace.”

Your eyes widen as you pick up a small honey cake. Your other hand comes to your stomach as you feign shock.

“Really? Oh my, we should definitely call for one then.” Lila turns her back to the others as she fills your cup with grapefruit juice. It’s another thing you’ve been craving. There’s a knowing look on her face that she hides from the rest.

Marial leaves soon after to fetch one while Lila and Myra do your hair. You softly hum to yourself as they do, thinking about the night before. Almost every night, Aegon has come to you through a secret passage in your wall. You didn’t know about it and find it slightly frightening, but Aegon assured you no one used it. Sometimes he would fuck you, which you’ve grown to like and even sometimes seem to crave. While other times he just holds you. Almost always he falls asleep with his head on your chest and leaves before you wake.

You’ve come to like his presence and find yourself unable to sleep when he doesn’t come. There’s only been two other times besides last night that he did not grace you with his presence. You never asked where he went because you had an idea of what his answer may be.

You're yawning into your hand when Maester Grant and Alicent come waltzing in. The queen mother is grinning from ear to ear when she enters and stands beside the maester throughout his questioning. His questions are simple and you answer them quickly. After only a few minutes, he announces you must be pregnant. Alicent slaps her hands together to look like a prayer and brings them to her mouth as she smiles.

Her reaction makes you sad. At this moment, you wish for your mother and are reminded of how she’ll never meet your child. Suddenly this pregnancy, the one you've been hiding and pretending doesn’t exist, finally becomes real. Alicent distracts your melancholic thoughts by telling the maester he may go before turning back to you.

She walks over and takes your hands in hers, a bright smile on her face. “Motherhood will suit you well, my dear. I already see how well you take to it with your brothers.”

You smile, hands gripping hers. “Thank you, your grace. I am extremely nervous, though.”

Alicent brings her hands up to cup your cheeks, you rest your own against your stomach. She’s never been mean to you since you married Aemond. At first, she tried to have tea with you every day, but as your depression grew you tended to seclude yourself. One day during tea she had said something that stuck with you, something you think of every time you look in the mirror.

“You look just like her. Your face is the exact same.”

You knew she meant your mother. You also know they used to be childhood friends. You can only assume that she finds comfort with your presence, maybe she can pretend your mother is still alive. That everything is fine and everyone survived.

“Do not fret. I believe once you give him a babe, he’ll start to see you in a new light. If he’s so obsessed with his other child, then imagine how he’ll be with yours.”

You imagine he’ll be indifferent, but you don’t tell her that. You only nod and let her have her useless hope. Alicent requests you spend the afternoon with her and shows you fabrics for gowns that must (according to her) be made for when your belly grows.

There’s tea and many sweets are scattered across the table as she fingers a deep green fabric with lace detailing. Everything is green, that much you expected, but still find yourself disappointed.

After a long discussion on which fabrics to choose, you find yourself walking to the library. You have two missions that require heading there. One, you wish to find any Targaryen names that you may like for the babe. You have a vague idea of ones you already like, but want to skim some old history books to see if there are any others.

You’ve read almost every book about your family's history and old homeland. Your childhood consisted of you obsessed over texts and becoming entranced by such grandiose stories.

Number Two is a bit tricky. You know, Aemond spends most of his time there when he’s not training. Since Ser Cole is with Alicent you can only assume he’s in there. As you weave around the shelves, books in your arms, you keep your eyes open for the one eyed prince. It doesn’t take long to find him lounging by the fireplace, long legs elegantly crossed as he leans against the arm rest, book in hand.

You place your books on a desk not far from him and grab the first one before taking the seat across from him. He eyes the spine as you open it, brow raised.

“Any particular reason for the history lesson?”

“A maester visited me this morning.”

There’s a beat of silence. His cool expression doesn’t change, but he clenches his book between his hands.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you really want this baby to grow up with two parents who can’t stand to be in the same room as one another?”

He sighs, closing his book and staring at you. He doesn’t look like he used to. Aemond seems defeated, you can tell by his stature and the look within his eye. He’s slowly becoming a shell of himself, which scares you. It seems everyone has lost themselves due to that useless war. You only wish it never happened.

“ I do not, but I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying her when I’m near you.”

“Look I… I was raised with an interesting family situation regarding my father or fathers. I also know that when we were little, you told me Viserys didn’t care about you.”

Aemond scoffs. The one eyed prince stands, tossing his book onto the table beside him before walking over to the window. His hands are clasped behind him as he peers out of the glass. He can never stand to be near you for long, something that stabs your heart.

“I don’t want that for this babe. I don’t want confusion on who to love or look up to. I don’t want them to feel like they have to fight for your love, either.”

Tossing the book aside, you stand as well, walking over to him and peering up at Aemond. He’s much taller than you, if he looked away from the window he’d have to look down to meet your eyes. But he doesn’t move, you only know he knows you're beside him by the tick in his jaw.

“Do you want to subject a child to the way you felt as one? Is your son going to be your Rheanrya? For someone so smart, I find it unbelievable you’ll willingly repeat the mistakes of your own fath-”

Aemond’s hand wraps around your throat before he can stop himself, his cool expression transforming to one of unbridled rage. Your body smacks into the wall behind you and your vision swims with small black dots.

You wheeze as you fight to keep your hands by your sides and not grip at his own. You won’t look weak to him anymore. Not only that, but you now have the upper hand. You’re done being ignored.

“Say another word about me and I’ll squeeze harder” he threatens. It’s empty though because if you die his son won’t be safe. The realm won’t be safe. Your life is the only thing keeping the ever weakening thread of peace from snapping. He knows this. Aemond is a smart man, one you sometimes admire. Killing you would be a massive mistake. One that might cost him both his families.

“You’re a coward and a kinslayer. You owe me this after you murdered my little brother in cold blood.” He squeezes harder, your words come out in gasps. “Perhaps I’ll name my son Lucerys and teach him how to wield a knife, just as my brother did!”

Aemond’s eye widens in a mixture of shock and rage. He squeezes you hard enough to have you finally begin to panic before he finally lets go and tosses you to the floor. You fall to the floor in a gasping heap, hands smacking against the stone upon impact. One of your wrists stings while your other hand comes up to softly clutch your bruising neck.

You glance up at your husband, eyes filled with the hate you slowly find seeping into your bones. You’ve tried so hard to be agreeable, to be pretty and nice. To be the perfect wife or friend, and yet he still hates you.

Still clings to some fucked up honor code like he’s the epitome of the perfect man. He almost killed you and your babe. The war has changed the smart man you once knew. But also what did you expect? Killing your brother was just as stupid, and yet he still did that.

Aemond glances at you with an unreadable expression before quickly striding away. Leaving the library and never looking back.

“I could have him hanged!” Aegon is the picture of rage as you sip on the tea the maester gave you. Your throat is bruised, and you find it hurts to speak or swallow.

Maester Orlo said to drink this horrid concoction morning, noon, and night and your throat would be better in a few days. Nothing could be done with the bruise on your neck or your sore wrist, but at least you’d be able to talk again without being in pain.

“Nothing good would come of that,” you rasp out. “You’ve bruised me before, too.”

Aegon stops his pacing and walks over to where you sit, placing his goblet on the table and kneeling before you, one hand softly grazing your bruise. You flinch when his fingers touch the sensitive skin and eye him curiously.

“You liked it when I bruised you, I saw it in your eyes. Are you telling me you liked this?” You’ve seen this look before, at the consummation. He looks angry, but also something else. Lips pursed and brows furrowed with that look in his eyes you can’t place. “Do you want him touching you like I have?”

Jealousy, that’s the only thing you can think of. There was a hint of it that first night when he ranted about Aemond getting everything. He breathes heavily as he watches you, hands holding your hips.

“I never said that, Aegon.” You place the teacup onto the table beside you before cupping his cheeks. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, letting out a content sigh. When he’s not fucking you, all Aegon seems to want is your affection, constantly. It’s a lovely change from being ignored. “You saw how I was that night with him.”

He kisses the palm of your hand before resting his head on your lap, lashes fluttering against his pale cheeks as he contently sighs.

“Mother will set him right tomorrow. She’s the only one he listens to” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around and pulling you closer, nuzzling your stomach. “Aemond better not have hurt my child though, or all will know he’s mine by the way I’ll publicly punish him.”

You warm at his words, a small smile spreading across your face as you card your fingers through his hair. This is all so wrong, but you’re tired of being lonely and Aegon is actually rather sweet to you.

“The babe is fine, my darling.” He practically preens at your words, squeezing you tighter and humming. “I’ve never seen you like this about Jaehaera and Maelor.”

Or Jaehaerys, but you don’t say that. No one mentions him, and you understand why. It’s easier to forget the dead than to constantly remember them, to think of them every day. It eats you up until your only bone and sorrow, no happiness, joy, or even a soul left. Grief can destroy you. It’s easier for you to pretend your mom and brothers are alive. That Baela and Rhaena are back on Dragonstone or Driftmark. It’s just easier to pretend.

“They don’t like me. They won’t talk when I’m around or even look at me, it’s better if I leave them be.”

You pull his face away from your stomach, so he can look into your eyes. Your hands cup his cheeks and your thumb strokes his cheek bone. He smiles and closes his eyes, eating up your affection like a child with cake.

“You are their father, Aegon. Please try with them, if not for me, than for the babe. They deserve your love and attention as much as this baby does. I would like him to have siblings who have a loving relationship with their father.”

He merely nods at your words, his smile turning into a frown as he thinks of all the ways bonding with them may go wrong. He’d try for you though, tomorrow morning he’ll march into the nursery and give it his best shot.

“Okay,” he murmurs, leaning up on his knees and kissing you. It’s delicate and sweet, you find yourself sliding your fingers into his hair and sighing into the kiss. He smiles against your lips and deepens it.

Ever since you’ve started reciprocating his affections, he’s become giddy to see you every day. All thoughts revolve around his nights with you, he finds himself distracted during small council meetings or interactions with anyone. Thoughts plagued with you and only you.

“I love you,” his words slip out without a second to think them over, his lips grazing yours. You feel him tense underneath your hands as you stop raking them through his hair. You're frozen at his confession, having no clue how to feel.

He pulls away from you upon hearing your silence, eyes burning with betrayal and hurt. Aegon looks like a wounded puppy as he stands and walks over to the door. He stops as his hand grazes the knob and storms back over to you without a second thought.

“Do you not love me?!”

You jump at the volume of his voice and quickly stand, trying to shush him as you panic. You both are usually so quiet in case anyone passes by your doors. If they hear him, everything will be over. Unfortunately, your panic only serves to fuel his anger and scowls, tears swelling in his eyes.

“Don’t try to quiet me! Let's tell the whole castle of your trickster ways, letting me into your bed just to use me… What even for?”

“Aegon…” You shake your head as your voice finally finds you. Hesitantly, you take a few small steps in his direction, stopping in front of the broken man. You raise your hands to cup his cheeks, but he flinches away from your touch. Your heart burns at his rejection, your own eyes beginning to tear up.

“We are playing a dangerous game, why can you not see that? You always assure me everything will be fine, and yet we’re both married! With everyone thinking this babe is his, there will be no way to annul our marriage. How can I say those words out loud when I know tragedy lurks around the corner, it edges closer every time we meet.”

“I could kill him.”

You shake your head, the tears now racing down your cheeks. His cheeks are streaked with his own, eyes turning red as he continues to cry.

“You would never, and I would never ask that of you.” Once more you try to touch him and this time he relents. Your fingers delicately wipe away his tears before cupping his cheeks. Aegon leans into your touch as he always does, always starved for any affection. “How can this end with us happy?”

“I have never loved someone as I love you. I love you more than my own family, you’ve shown me a kindness and patience none of them ever have. I…” He presses his forehead against your own, taking a deep breath in as if it's his last one. “I have loved you since we were children, I was denied your hand and forced to marry my sister. I’ll burn everything to the ground to keep this happiness. After all this suffering, I will not lose the sweet taste of your lips against my own.”

His words chill you to the bone. This declaration is enough to start a war, and you can’t figure out if you're terrified or overjoyed. You’ve felt for so long that you are unlovable. That your existence will be one of misery and loneliness, and yet the most unlikely person has stepped up to show you otherwise.

“Just say it… please.” Your heart breaks at the crack in his voice, at the desperation he’s displaying. You can’t help but cry harder as you feel for this man in front of you. Both so desperate for love that it eats you alive.

He must mistake your tears for rejection, and you feel him begin to pull away, physically and mentally. Shaking your head rapidly, you crash your lips onto his to keep him near you, it’s nothing romantic. Teeth clash against teeth and tongues slide against one another.

You pour your nearly broken heart into this kiss, trying to show him how much you need him to stay. How you’ll finally break if he leaves. All the cracks within your beating heart have been glued by him, you find if you're alone again everything will fall apart. It’s only when you feel yourself grow lightheaded do you pull away to try to breathe. You're both gasping for air as you press your foreheads together, noses bumping one another and lips nearly touching.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Aegon pulls you back into a kiss, gripping your waist to try to pull you closer. Your bodies practically meld into one as his arms wrap around you to keep you close. Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him back, moaning into the kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, begging for everything you have. You give it to him without second thought, your mouth opening as you moan. His tongue slips inside without a second to spare.

Your knees hit the back of your bed, and he pushes you against it, falling onto the cushiony mattress with you, lips never leaving yours. Your hands pull at the ends of his curly hair, invoking a moan from deep within his chest as he pulls away from your lips. His hands slide to the bottom of your nightgown which has bunched around your waist and pulls it off of you. Your hands find his shirt and help him pull it off before he’s momentarily pulling away to take his pants off.

You find those few seconds without his touch unbearable and reach towards him while whining. He smirks at you, eyes lidded before climbing back between your legs, leaning down to press kisses up your thighs. You impatiently groan and try to tug him back up your body, thighs trying to rub together for any chance of friction. By now he’s fucked you enough to have you used to the feel of his cock within you, and you want it now.

“I can’t possibly fuck you yet, I haven’t even tasted you.”

You keen at his words and watch as he teasingly licks a slow strip through your folds, making you groan as you both maintain eye contact. He continues doing that for a few moments before kitten licking your bud. You feel one of his fingers pressing at your entrance before slowly sliding inside of you, he quickly adds a second one after a few slow thrusts and watches you impatiently grind your hips against his tongue and fingers.

The feel of him chuckling against you only makes you more aroused. Aegon stops his teasing and latches onto your bud, sucking the sensitive bundle before adding a third finger and making a come hither motion inside of you. Your head rolls back at his motions, and soon your moans fill the bedchambers, overtaking the crackling of fire and the sound of your wetness. Your hands delve back into his hair, and you tug on the stands as you continue to grind against him while whining.

“C-Close… So close.” Your words only spur him on, his other hand goes to press against your hips to keep you still as he speeds up, rapidly hitting your sensitive spot inside. You find yourself at a loss for words as you arch your back and squeeze your eyes shut, coming against his fingers and tongue. He continues through your orgasm and only stops after you’ve calmed down.

Aegon pulls his fingers out of you and moves up to your face, pressing his fingers against your lips. You greedily accept his offer and moan around his long digits as you taste yourself. He groans at the sight and quickly pulls them away from you, so he lined himself up with your entrance.

Your mouth falls open in a breathy moan as he slowly thrusts inside you, his eyes briefly closing as he moans at the feeling of you squeezing around him. You always take him so well, and he can’t help but feel that you were made for him.

“Say it again” his voice is raspy as he makes his demands, keeping still inside you as his eyes meet your own. You look so pretty beneath him, eyes half lidded and pupils blown. Lips bruised from his kisses and cheeks flushed. He decides he wants a commission of you like this, but also doesn’t want anyone else to see you the way he does.

“I-I love you,” you moan. Your hands cup his cheeks and pull him down for a bruising kissing. Aegon begins to fuck you at a brutal pace that you're loudly moaning within his mouth. His thrusts are hard and fast, and he’s hitting that sensitive spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Your tongues messily slide against one another as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer.

If someone were to talk in right now, they wouldn’t have a clue as to where you begin, and he ends. You're consumed by him, completely and irrevocably. His scent fills you and his kisses leave you thoughtless. His own thrusts make you obsessed with him, and you find that you never want this to end.

One of his hands slides down and begins to circle your nub. He barely pulls away from your lips to watch as you groan. He can feel how close you are by the way your walls convulse around him, and he finds himself close as well. You move your hips in time with his thrusts as your nails claw his back, turning him on further.

“Fuck!” You cry out as you come around his cock, back arching and legs shaking, eyes squeezed shut. Aegon thrusts a few times as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm once before his hips stutter, and he spills inside you. His head nestles into the crook of your neck as he moans, cock twitching inside of you.

You both stay like that, wrapped around one another, while you catch your breath. He begins to pepper kisses down your neck, making sure to avoid the hand shaped bruise around your neck. You blissfully sigh as you feel sleepiness begin to overcome you.

“I will find a way to make us have a happy ending.” His words do little to calm the anxiety that's always lurking in the pit of your stomach. But you nod anyway and pull him away from your neck to peck his lips. He smiles into it and wraps his arms around you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And you really do, which you find terrifies you. Love has no place in the dangerous game you both play, and yet it’s blossomed between the cracks and made itself at home inside the both of you. It’s shocking to know that this is the man who makes you feel safe and happy. Who brings a smile to your face and makes you think the future doesn’t look so bad.

But you also don’t believe in fairy tales, and you find yourself far too jaded to believe his words. You only hope this ends with you all alive and not another mindless war. You’d rather end yourself then deal with another one. But you won’t tell him any of that, it’ll only hurt him, and you don’t wish to do that. So instead, you brush your fingers through his hair and listen to his soft breathing. You stay like that until eventually sleep takes you too.

#aegon x reader #aegon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd x you #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n

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lemotmo · 21 days

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Three years - lemotmo - 9-1-1 (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

I had to do it. I had to write about pining and hurting Eddie. I can't shake the headcanon that Eddie knows how he feels about Buck.

It's written in two hours, so it might be rough, but I don't care. You can read it here or on AO3. Enjoy!

Three years

“Eddie, where are you going? Are you—” Athena called out.

Eddie rushed out of the garden and into the house, quickly gathering his things in the living room, before walking out of the front door. He didn’t want anyone to talk to him. He wasn’t interested in their questions. He wouldn’t know how to answer them anyway. What could he tell them?

A lie? That he wasn’t feeling well and he just needed to go home to sleep it off?

Bobby and Athena would understand, the others would say goodbye before Athena would guide him out and say goodnight. They would all buy it. But Buck wouldn’t. He knew him so much better than that.

Or the truth? That the sight of Buck and Tommy sitting together, holding hands, kissing and whispering silly little things to each other that made them laugh, made the bile rise in his gut?

He couldn’t possibly explain any of that to anyone, because for two months now he had been choking on it, walking around with a big fake grin on his face, always overly cheerful, nauseatingly happy and positive and attentive when each morning Buck would waltz into the station, floating on clouds and love and—Tommy. Every single day he would share a funny thing Tommy did or he would gush about one of the man’s romantic gestures. Chimney, Hen and Bobby always indulged him with happy smiles on their faces. And he tried, Eddie really tried. He did his best to plaster on that same smile, to be happy for Buck— and even Tommy, because he was a great guy. And he was obviously so good for Buck. He wined and dined him and treated him the way Buck deserved to be treated. He even called him ‘Evan’. Something he had only dared to do twice. Bottom line—he was perfect. Tommy was the perfect boyfriend.

And it pissed him off.

The moment he reached his car, he heard footsteps running down the driveway. “I don’t want to talk Buck,” he said, as he frantically started searching his pockets for his car keys.

“Wrong firefighter,” Hen replied.

Eddie sighed and leaned his forehead up against the car window. No escape now. Hen was stubborn. She wouldn’t just let this go.

“Hen—”

“No,” Hen interrupted, “I am talking now, Eddie. You want to tell me what that was all about? Because I’ve known you for a long time now and what you just pulled in there? That’s not you. You don’t just walk out without saying goodbye to everyone.”

“I’m just—not feeling well,” Eddie replied, grateful for the car that was holding him up. He was so tired.

“No, I’m not buying that Eddie. The last couple of weeks, at work, I’ve slowly seen you withdraw within yourself. You stopped interacting with us, especially Buck. You do your best to put up a smile, but it just doesn’t look real. What is going on with you? Are you unhappy at work?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it Hen.” Eddie finally turned around to face her and leaned back heavily against the truck. “It’s not important anyway.”

“Eddie.” Hen looked him in the eye, obviously concerned. “Talk to me.”

Eddie chuckled miserably before pushing away from the car. “You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.” He took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, unable to look her in the eye anymore. “Three years Hen. Three fucking years!” He spit it out, looking up again, anger in his eyes.

Hen didn’t say anything, but it was clear that she didn’t understand.

And Eddie was frustrated. He was so fucking frustrated over this entire fucked up situation he found himself in. He had been such a colossal idiot.

“Three years ago I got shot in broad daylight,” he started, “and Buck was standing right in front of me. For a split second I saw his face get covered in blood—my blood. But at that moment I didn’t realise. I saw the blood and I thought—someone shot Buck. Someone dared to shoot this wonderful man. And later, as I was laying on the asphalt, bleeding out, reaching for him, being saved by him, I couldn’t help but realise what an idiot I had been to not see what had been right in front of me for such a long time.”

“Eddie,” Hen said, surprise colouring her voice, “Are you— are you in love with Buck?”

Eddie sighed and looked at her. “What gave me away?” He joked, pain evident in his voice. “You know what the worst thing is? When I woke up in the hospital I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let this chance go by and I would tell him as soon as I was strong enough. Hell, he was already in my will anyway, so it would have made sense.

Hen’s eyes widened when she heard about the will. “Your will?”

“Yeah, if anything happens to me, Christopher will go to Buck.”

Hen gasped.

Eddie smiled at her. “Surprise!” He wistfully looked back at the house for a moment. “Anyway, now you know.”

“What happened after the hospital?” Hen asked.

Eddie gathered his thoughts for a moment, letting the memories flow through him. “The last day I was in hospital he told me that he and Taylor and gotten together and that he was sure it was going to work out this time.” He briefly allowed himself to feel the pain of that moment again, before locking it away where it had come from. “So, I stayed with Ana until I just couldn’t anymore. It felt wrong. Buck was still with Taylor and when he finally broke up with Taylor—Well, by then I wasn’t in a very good place to make any big decisions, so I told myself there would be plenty of time later. I waited and waited, until last year. I had gone to therapy, felt better than ever and I thought—now is the time. Of course, then he got hit by lightning and—”

“He almost died,” Hen finished.

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “One of the absolute worst times in my life. To see Buck, who is normally so full of life and happiness, just lying there, motionless, unresponsive. I could hardly bring myself to walk into his room.”

“But he recovered.” Hen said. “Why didn’t you tell him then?”

“I was going to. We were closer than ever. Getting along better than ever. I felt like we were finally on the same page. I even took him on a date to a poker game—although in hindsight, he probably had no idea we were on a date.”

“Which is very Buck of him,” Hen added. “You need to spell things out for that man. Otherwise he won’t get it.”

“Yeah, I was all set to tell him when a wild death doula appeared,” Eddie said, sighing deeply. “He looked me right in the eye and told me: ‘She sees me’. As if I hadn’t been there all the time, right in front of him, seeing every single thing about him, understanding him in ways he doesn’t even understand himself.” He shook his head. “That’s when I decided to give up on him and move on. I convinced myself that it had all been in my head and the little signs of interest I saw were just figments of my imagination. A while later I bumped into Marisol at the store and—well, you know how disastrous that ended.”

Hen bit her lip. “And now he’s with Tommy.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah,” he choked out, “he was so happy about it when he told me Hen. You should have seen him. He was practically beaming. He confided in me that Tommy had kissed him and it had illuminated his world.” He smiled, lost in the memory. “He looked so happy and all I could think about was—” By now he was so overwhelmed by emotion that he barely managed to get the words out. “Why not me? You know?”

Hen made a soft soothing sound and reached out towards him, but Eddie stepped out of her reach. He didn’t want her pity. “And this time it really seems to be the real deal. Buck has never looked as happy in a relationship as he does in this one. Tommy is clearly doing something right, the way he always manages to catch his attention.”

Hen nodded and softly added, “It is kinda hard to miss how much Buck lights up whenever Tommy walks into the room.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “And How can I possibly deny him this Hen? How can I possible come in between that happiness and destroy it? I can’t. Buck deserves this. He deserves the best—and if the best is Tommy—well, then I’ll suck it up and be happy for him. I’ll plaster on the fake smile for the rest of my life if I have to.”

“But Eddie,” Hen softly said, “What if, for Buck, being with you is even better for him than the best?”

Eddie wiped the tears away with his sleeve and shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never been the best for anyone or anything Hen.”

“Eddie,” Hen started. But Eddie cut her off. “No, don’t—I’ve made up my mind. It’s hard sometimes, seeing them together, but time heals all wounds right? I’m sure that, eventually, I’ll be able to be in the room with them without wanting to destroy something. But, today is not that day. I had to get out of that room Hen. I couldn’t just sit there, watching the intimacy between them without imagining that—"

“It was you instead of Tommy sitting next to Buck?”

“Yeah.”

Hen regarded him for a moment. “I’ll go back in and tell them that you felt really sick and didn’t want to ruin the lovely evening by hurling all over the carpet.”

Eddie breathed in deeply, feeling relieved. “Thanks Hen. Tell them goodnight from me, okay?”

“Will do. But Eddie, hold on.” She walked up to him and reached for his hands. She gently squeezed them as she looked him in the eye. “Never let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough. Buck would be lucky to have a man like you loving him.”

Eddie smiled at her and briefly squeezed back in thanks, before letting go. He had finally located his car keys and unlocked the door. As he got in the car, he hesitated for a second. “Hen, what I told you—”

“Say no more. My lips are sealed. I promise.”

“Thanks,” he said, before getting in. A minute later he was gone, but Hen didn’t move a muscle.

“How long have you been standing there?!” She angrily called out into the night, slowly turning around towards the driveway of Athena’s house. There was no answer.

“Don’t try to hide from me. I know you’re there Buck!”

Buck slowly emerged from behind one of the plants in the front garden, a baffled look plastered all over his face. He looked as white as a sheet.

“How much of that have you heard?” Hen asked, her anger floating away. Buck looked about ready to faint.

“E-everything,” he replied. “I followed you guys outside about a minute later. But then I heard you and Eddie talking and I didn’t want to interrupt and then it registered what he was talking about and I didn’t want to show myself anymore, because that would have been so awkward and—”

“Buck,” Hen interrupted. “Take a breath and sit down for a moment. You look a hair’s breadth away from falling over.”

Buck breathed in deeply and sat down on the curb. He looked up at Hen, lost and confused.

“What do I do now Hen?” He asked.

“Now you make a choice Buck. The cards are all out on the table. All you need to do is make a decision.”

“But, how do I do that?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” she softly added. “But know that, whatever decision you make, someone will get deeply hurt in the process. It will take time for them to heal. And the longer you wait, the more it will hurt. So, don’t wait too long.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going back inside. I’m sure Karen is starting to wonder where I am.” She slowly turned towards the house and made her way back inside.

Buck didn’t follow for a long time.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic #911 abc #jealous Eddie Diaz #pining Eddie Diaz #henrietta wilson

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thewritingofspencerrose · 6 months

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The Dorothea Swift

"Folks, it's that time again for..."

"New NEWS," Travis Kelce is the one to finish, loud to the point that the woman on the other screen lifts her headphones slightly away from her ears.

"Today's episode features a very favorite of not only my wife, but the entire KC Chiefs system, social media manager miss Dorothea Swift! Dorothea-"

"Please Jason, just Thea, that's what everyone calls me. The last time someone called me Dorothea it was my sister when she wrote a song about missing me when I left for college," The blonde laughs, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"Or Dee Dee, that's what Mahomes calls her," Travis chimes, chuckling at the aggrivated look on the face of a woman who deals with football players for a living.

"That's because Pat took it from some friends of mine," She defends, rolling her eyes. "But it's great to be here boys. You've basically been making my job useless."

"Ah you could never be useless, babygirl," Is Travis's brilliant response, making Jason laugh.

"I can just hear the internet blowing up with that one comment, so I'm gonna save ya'll and move on," The elder brother assures, "Dorthea, what's it like being the sister of someone as famous as Taylor?"

"You see, my answer to that is going to be incredibly boring, but we've always grown up in a really down to Earth and relatively normal family. I mean, obviously Tay has been singing since I was seven and she was fourteen, so we've grown in this environment, but like, as a younger sister she's still just my annoying older sister."

"So you two are close?" Travis is the one to ask, with a knowing smile. "At least you seemed it at the game the other day."

"Yes, she and I still have sleepovers in my bed when she comes to town. My boyfriend has had to sleep on the sofa in our living room more than a few nights because of it," She explains, having to laugh.

"Ah, and would this boyfriend be the one that you've been soft launching on your instagram?"

"Dude, how do you know what soft launching is?" Travis questions his brother, laughing, Thea unable to not join in.

"My wife taught me! Laugh it up," Jason answers defensively, although his eyebrows betray his display of annoyance for what it really is, amusement. "But come on Thea, give us the insider scoop on your mystery boy that everyone is losing their minds about on the internet."

"I'm pretty sure what everyone is really losing their minds about is my sister and your brother supposedly dating after last weeks game," Thea laughs, Travis blushing madly. "Do you have anything to say about that?"

"Oh I'm a fan of this line of questioning," Jason grins, nodding excitedly about what he knows is to come.

"Me too, Jason, me too," Thea agrees, going to say something else before being interrupted by a little voice through Jason's microphone.

"Antie Dee Dee!"

The blonde woman's face turns the shade of a Chiefs jersey, both men's faces showing surprise in the turn of events that Jason's daughter Wyatt has caused. The's no way to deny that this is the first time the three have really talked if Jason's daughter already calls her Antie.

"Baby Wy," Travis is the one to respond, coming out as a groan. "You just ruined a soft launch that was a year in the making!"

"Does this mean it's time?" Jason asks, eyes dotting back and forth between the other boxes on the screen.

Rather than answering, a still red Thea gets up from her chair, disappearing from her screen only to reappear in Travis' a moment later, kissing his forehead and sitting down on his lap.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am not in fact dating Taylor Swift, but have been dating Dorthea Swift for the last two years," He announces, smiling brightly at the screen.

"He's become close with my sister, given their proximity in age, and I've clearly become close with his family in return," Dorthea takes the chance to explain.

"Yeah, the Kid is pretty cool, I guess," Jason chimes, leaning in the the microphone as if about to tell a secret. "She better be my sister-in-law one day or I will kill my brother."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nfl fanfiction #cheifs #cheifs fanfiction #travis kelce #travis kelce x oc #taylor swift #taylor swift x sister

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commander-quack-to-the-bridge · 2 years

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When the events of Star Trek 2009 take place Chekov is 17.

He is seventeen when he witnesses the death of almost six billion people.

Seventeen when he saves Sulu and Kirk from slamming to their deaths but minutes later loses Amanda as the surface of Vulcan gives way & he is unable to lock onto her signal. He's a child, the death of someone else's mother is on his hands.

Chekov watched as a few elders and Spock appeared in the transporter, saw the look of devastation on his face as Spock realized his mother was now gone. They returned to the bridge and watched as a planet died, knowing there was nothing to be done about it.

Chekov's calculations were correct and it must have been the worst feeling in the universe. He had to hope - even if it was just in the back of his head - that he was wrong. He had most likely never wished for anything more in his young life.

All of this... only to then be present when Kirk forced Spock into showing that he was emotionally compromised. Hearing Kirk goad Spock with, "It must not even compute for you. You never loved her!" only to see someone he most likely admires lose his mind. No one on the bridge, except his father, could have imagined Spock in such a state.

You can't convince me that Chekov didn't internalize that. He had to have been feeling poorly as it was - to run through the halls shouting, "I can do that I can do that!" and save two men only to lose someone a few moments later in a similar situation. I know I'm repeating myself here but I remember being 17 and internalizing all kinds of things.

The one break Chekov probably had was taken from him when Spock snapped. To see Spock react logically must have been a level of comfort, even if on some level Chekov knew it was probably a lie.

And then to be the one that came up with the plan to hide the entirety of the Enterprise??? To go through all of that and still be mentally present is a kind of strength that is unimaginable for me.

I like to think that after the events of that day McCoy is making his rounds, checking in on everyone. When he gets to Chekov the kid smiles and says, "Everything is fine with me, sir."

McCoy gives him a look before responding, "Ever eager, huh? You didn't even let me ask my question."

"What question is that?"

"How are you?"

Three simple words. And Chekov's illusion he built for himself shatters.

Seeing Vulcan destroyed was bad enough. But he hasn't been able to sleep without seeing Amanda disappear from the screen, seeing Spock hit Kirk over and over with displaced rage, hearing Spock's voice shake as he says, "Doctor, I am no longer fit for duty. I here by relinquish my command based on the fact that I have been emotionally compromised. Please note the time and date in the ship's log.", or waking up scared that Spock will blame him, because why wouldn't he?

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mediumsizedpidegon · 10 months

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I'm unable to stop thinking about OG!Mobei-Jun. We never meet him like we do Luo Bingge but I have such a strong image of who he is.

To reference a text post I am obsessed with, if Luo Bingge is a male power fantasy, original Mobei-Jun is the ‘one man as an island’ belief. The idea of ‘one man as an island’ is basically the same as the lie of complete self sufficiency.

It means; you don’t NEED help. It means: you are an island, a city, a nation within yourself, and so you are all you need. It means; you aren’t weak and you can do EVERYTHING yourself. And while this isn’t an inherently male concept (everyone can be influenced by it) it does tend to be extra emphasized in male spaces. It’s certainly part of the toxic masculinity package. Because in toxic masculinity, other men are competitors. Rivals. Enemies. You crush them to get what you want and you do it alone.

Airplane takes Luo Bingge and turns a story about the cycles of abuse into the height of male power fantasies. And Airplane thus takes Mobei-Jun and projects his desires to be a one-man-island.

Because islands aren’t lonely. They can’t feel lonely. (You are a one man island and you don’t need people so that means you chose your aloneness. you have control over it.)

And here’s the thing: complete self sufficiency is utter HORSESHIT. ITS A LIE. IT DOESNT FUCKING WORK.

Since complete self sufficiency is a lie, translating Mobei-jun from book to real person gets wayyyy more complicated.

So my view of OG!Mobei Jun is someone who has frozen himself into complete indifference. He’s a man who desperately wants to belong to someone or something but has forgotten how. He’s a closeted romantic who has gouged out all the soft and vulnerable parts of himself. He moves through life as if everything is beneath him and less real than him because if it isn’t then he’ll fall apart spectacularly. He’s a man who’s sat so long with solitude that it’s crystallized him into a moving statue. He’s a flesh and blood person but he is so incapable of letting his guard down that the entire world sees the mountain he wants to be and not the cracks where the illusion fails. He doesn’t know how to live. He refuses to die.

OG!Mobei-Jun is the myth of self sufficiency. And it eats him alive.

He can’t trust his family, so he raised himself while "overseeing his future realm," leading to him being malnourished and touch-starved. He can’t trust his servants, and so he learned how to put on everything himself— in simple styles so that he could do them even injured. He can’t trust his advisors, so his kingdom is governed by fear and precedent rather than understanding. He can’t trust his palace, and so he is short on sleep and good food and relaxation: after all, he must do everything himself and thus he must know everything.

In comparison to SVSSS, original Mobei-Jun is noticeably thinner. He wears makeup to hide the dark circles beneath his eyes. The wound from the Huan Hua dart never healed right: and neither did many, many others. Compared to our Mobei-Jun, he looks…. brittle, with the vicious fear of an animal backed into a corner.

SVSSS Mobei-Jun is taller, bigger. He has that extra essential “I’m not alone and being taken care of” weight. Even just by looking at him, you can tell that he is miles steadier, with people he can trust at his back. He’s not constantly shaking with a combination of touch starvation and paranoia. He has less scars and the ones he does have look better taken care of.

SVSSS Mobei-Jun is just.... a complete antithesis to his original self. A complete deconstruction of the self sufficiency myth.

A one man island wouldn’t be rescued like three times like a damsel in distress! A one man island wouldn’t have a devoted servant to care for him: to heal his wounds and give him food and drink, a place to rest, and information more valuable than gold. A one man island wouldn’t know gentleness if it clubbed him in the head!

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that Shang Qinghua has a MONUMENTAL impact on Mobei-Jun’s life and his entire perception of the world and himself.

This is a man who could have friends! This is a guy who is unguarded enough to actually fall in love! This is a dude who might be close to some distant family members! This is a guy who might have HOBBIES or THINGS THAT MAKE HIM LAUGH!!!! The ripple effect goes and goes and with Shang Qinghua smashing his ‘I need to do everything myself’ belief, Mobei-Jun can relax and actually trust people! Other people even!

Imagine a Mobei-Jun that has not just Shang Qinghua but!! A half sister he really likes!! A couple great aunts he can ask for advice!! Some cousins that have children that call him uncle!! A friend or two!!!!

THIS IS NOT A MAN ALONE!!!

#svsss #mobei jun #og!mobei-jun #shang qinghua #listen. listen. if luo bingge is a ravenous black hole in a flesh suit then og mobei-jun is a self-made weapon with everything gentle #and soft carved right out of him.#and each time it starts growing back he repeats the process. he's a man trying to be a mountain.#he's a man trying to be iron instead of flesh and bone. AND ITS NOT WORKING BUT HE KEEPS GOING AND GOING #AS IF IT WILL WORK THIS TIME. THE VERY DEFINITION OF INSANITY. THE PICTURE OF DESPERATION #i am chewing on the fucking walls. i'm howling. do any of you even understand this.#my posts

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drabbles-mc · 10 months

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Unbroken Rules

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

For Day 6 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Challenge: friends with benefits

Warnings: 18+, language, smut, oral (f!receiving), light angst?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: As per usual this is unedited and unbeta'd. It was also written on three hours of sleep. But we out here! They're, you know, they're smutting! 😂

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @thesandbeneathmytoes @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @cositapreciosa @hausofmamadas @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was surprising to you in a way that maybe it shouldn’t have been that things with you and Carrillo were working as well as they had been. Out of all the men in Colombia you thought you would find yourself casually hooking up with, he certainly hadn’t been anywhere near the top of the list. He really hadn’t made your list at all.

You couldn’t even really remember how it all came up in the first place. A bunch of you had been out after a grueling week, drinking away the stress of it all. In between rounds everyone was catching up on gossip, all the little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of it all but were the perfect topics of conversation when the grand scheme had been so exhausting for you all. And there was no shortage of things to talk about. Messy breakups, dates gone wrong, new and not-so-secret relationships abound. Still waters run deep, after all.

At some point you’d all descended into talking about one of the officer’s friends with benefits relationship gone wrong. No one really had any sympathy for him, of course, but it fueled jokes and banter for the next five minutes of conversation. In the aftermath of that, Carrillo had made a comment under his breath about not understanding how you all managed to have time for all of that with everything else that was going on.

“Yea,” you said, just as quietly with a laugh, “I get that friends with benefits probably seems like a weird concept for someone who doesn’t seem all that interested in even having friends without benefits.”

If you hadn’t had so much liquid courage in you at that point, the look on Carrillo’s face would’ve stunned you into silence, maybe even into squaring up your tab altogether.

But as it stood, you weren’t fazed. Instead, you doubled down. “What?” There was extra safety in the fact that everyone else had diverted off into their own conversations—no one was listening to the two of you. “Am I wrong?”

“I have friends,” he said, unable to believe that he was entertaining the conversation with you, letting it be anything resembling an argument.

You arched one eyebrow. “Okay, sure. Let’s,” you took a sip of your drink, “let’s say that’s true.”

He shook his head at you. “You think that because I’m not sleeping with any of them that—”

“I didn’t say that,” you cut him off. “I didn’t even say that you don’t have friends. I’m saying that you don’t seem all that interested in having friends. Which, you know,” you shrugged, “whatever.”

He could see that there was something else on the tip of your tongue. He was logical enough to know that he should let it lie, but he was too stubborn to go on without asking. “What?”

“I just…” you shrugged, suddenly trying to pick your words carefully now that you realized the deep water you’d landed yourself in. “With everything you’ve had going on I’m just not exactly surprised that you’re not keen on people right now.”

He frowned at that. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and as much as he hated that you were bringing it up at all, he was at least thankful that you had enough grace to not blurt it out in obvious terms. If he hadn’t gone to the bar with all of you, he knew that his recent disaster of a breakup would’ve made it onto the gossip wheel. Fair was fair, after all, and it was quite the story for everyone else who was on the outside of it.

He let out a sound that was something between a hum and a grunt of acknowledgment. You were on precariously thin ice as it was but still you took another sip of your drink and forged onward, talking since he apparently wasn’t going to.

“Honestly it’d probably be good for you. It’s been a bit, right? Probably be good for you to blow off some steam if you haven’t already.” You said it so casually despite the fact that the two of you really didn’t have the type of relationship where you were usually offering unsolicited advice about anything, but especially his sex life or lack thereof. Again, if there had been any less liquor in your system, the look on Carrillo’s face would’ve had you melting into the floor.

But somewhere between that conversation and the moment you were in now, with him knocking at your door, the two of you had become friends with benefits. Maybe more benefits than friends, but still, you served a purpose for each other. He wasn’t up for anything serious after a brutal breakup, and realistically he didn’t seem like the most emotionally available man to begin with anyway. And you were too busy letting work take over your life to try and entertain a real relationship. But still, you were only human. He filled a need for you and vice versa.

There were rules to it. Things to keep it from getting messy. Part of you had to think that maybe that was a large part of the appeal for him. Structure was good—he knew how to navigate that. The two of you always met at your place—that was his rule. He never stayed over no matter how late it was—that was your rule. There were a few others you’d each put into place along the way. The big one, the unspoken one, was that if one of you started to feel any kind of off about it, you’d cut the cord on the whole arrangement. The whole purpose of it was to eliminate mess, not make more of one.

The beauty of there being limited friendship built into the actual arrangement was that when he showed up, you always knew why. It wasn’t like he ever turned up on your doorstep just for a drink and a chat. So when you heard the knocks, you knew exactly what you were going to be in for. He wasn’t one for small talk with anyone, so it wasn’t as though you really had to entertain him very much before the two of you got into things.

There was only a matter of minutes between you unlocking your apartment door for him and the two of you peeling the clothes off of each other on the way to your bedroom. His hands moved quickly, with the same precision he showed in every other area of his life. In record time he had your blouse unbuttoned and on the floor, working the clasp of your bra with the same ease before moving to the buckle of your belt.

His lips moved hungrily against yours. Slow and steady hadn’t ever been the pace with the two of you, but you could feel a different sense of urgency this time. You wondered what happened before he decided to come over. It wouldn’t be the first time either of you took your problems out on each other. Neither of you had ever made any complaints about it.

He undid the button and zipper of your jeans, easily pushing them down past your hips, down just enough for them to pool around your ankles on the floor. Once the backs of your legs met the resistance of your mattress, his hand slid up from your hip, trailing up your stomach until it stopped in the middle of your chest. He pushed with just enough force to get you to fall back onto the bed.

You took his hand in your own, went to pull him down onto the mattress with you, but he didn’t give you the chance. Pulling his hand back, he reached up and peeled his polo off over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor with the mess of your own clothes. You watched with bated breath as he undid the buckle of his belt with one hand, using the other to run up your calf, over your knee and onto your thigh.

It seemed like your eyes diverted for all of a second, and suddenly he was on you. Climbing up your body, all rough palms and grazing teeth. You felt his lips against your neck and you reached, threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. The second his teeth sank into you, your grip on his hair tightened in turn. You heard the hiss he let out, and you felt the smug satisfaction start to settle in.

Then his lips were on yours again, as desperate as he’d ever been he slipped his tongue into your mouth as he ground his hips against yours. you moaned into his mouth, arching into the contact as you slid one hand down between you, wrapping it around his length. He instantly bucked into your hand, the reaction practically involuntary as he pulled his mouth off of yours.

“Fuck,” he cursed, low and quiet, one hand balled into a fist on the pillow beside your head, other hand on the side of your face. The pad of his thumb rested beneath your bottom lip, almost enough to pull at it if he hadn’t been so distracted by your grip on him, the motions you knew would piece him apart.

His hand slid down to the side of your throat, and you felt your heartrate already speeding up. But then he reached and pulled your hand away, separating the two of you. He was already flushed, breathless, and you weren’t much better considering the two of you had hardly gotten started. It wasn’t the time to ask questions, but the look in Carrillo’s eyes had you wondering if maybe you should.

He didn’t give you the chance. Any attempt you were going to make to try and check in was cast aside as he slid back down your body, lips and tongue trailing the whole way down until he hooked your legs over his shoulders and dove directly between your thighs.

It was your turn to let out a curse, a string of them really, as your thighs clamped tighter around his head, fingers weaving into his hair as his tongue worked you over. Your back arched, fingers tugging harder on his hair as he tried to lose himself in you, tried to use you to cure some sort of insatiable hunger inside of him. It was a fool’s errand that you would let him run on forever if it kept him between your legs the way he was. You had no hope in stopping the moan that came out of you when he slid his fingers into you, legs trembling around his head as he pumped them in and out of you.

“Fuck,” you practically whined. “Don’t,” you lifted your head off the bed just enough to look down at him, the sight of him nearly enough to send you over the edge all on its own, “don’t stop.”

Whatever had sent him to your door had him feeling more agreeable than usual, because he did as you said without a moment’s hesitation. Even when the coil inside of you snapped, when you were lying pliant and breathless on the bed with your legs still lazily draped over his shoulders, he didn’t stop.

It wasn’t until you gently raked your fingers through his hair and let out a soft, unsteady, “Horacio,” that he paused long enough to look up at you, to revel in the mess he’d turned you into. The thought crossed his mind as he looked at you, as he carefully brought himself back up to your face, that he was still good for something, for someone. Despite everything pointing to the contrary, he might still be the right thing for someone. Maybe even you.

You were about to say something more when he kissed you, taking away the opportunity. You didn’t fight him, hand cupping the side of his face as you tasted yourself off of his lips. His hips shifted and you could feel him, still ready, still twitching.

When he pulled his lips off of yours, he sat back, kneeling as he grabbed onto your hips and turned you over so that you were lying on your stomach. Hands still holding onto you, he pulled you back towards him, leaving you braced on your forearms as he slotted himself between your legs. Your fingers curled into a thread-tearing grip on your sheets as he pushed into you. He moved slow at first, and you could feel the way he was fighting to show some restraint. But once he heard the tiny whimpered, “Yes,” you let out under your breath, he immediately picked up his pace.

Even with the stars behind your eyes, you could already picture the finger-shaped bruises he was going to leave on your hips. You pushed back against him, spurring him on as he brought one hand up to grip your shoulder, what little nail he had biting into the soft flesh there.

The only things you could hear above the sounds of your own ragged breathing and heartbeat, was the sound of his hips connecting with you, the scattered curses he let out under his breath the closer he got to release.

You felt the stutter in his thrusts as he finished, melting against you as soon as he did. You felt his forehead rest against your back between your shoulder blades, felt each heave of his chest as he fought to try and get his breath back. His hands loosened, acting gentle against you once more as he held you to him—not that you had the desire to move away anyway.

When he finally pulled away from you, he ran his hand up and down your back again. His voice was almost even as he asked, “You’re okay?”

You let out a breathless laugh as you nodded. It took more effort than you wanted to admit just to turn yourself over so that you were lying on your back again. Once you did, you looked over at him, making eye contact before nodding again and saying, “I’m okay.”

For a beat, neither of you moved or said anything. Carrillo didn’t move to get dressed and leave, you didn’t try to ask what had him in such a state when he showed up at your apartment. For a precious two minutes, the two of you existed in a limbo where there was simply nothing else, no life outside the walls of your bedroom.

Finally, he cleared his throat, looking over at you once more. “It’s late.”

Blinking a few times, you turned and looked at the clock on your nightstand. Your eyes widened when you saw the time, not having realized just how long the two of you had been at it. “Shit,” you said as you ran your hands down your face, “it is.”

The silence that followed spoke volumes. You waited for him to get up and start getting his things the way that he usually did, maybe even toss you something to pull on quickly so that you could follow him out and lock the door behind him when he left. But he was still. The longer you looked in his eyes, the more you realized just what he was waiting for. If he wanted to talk about what happened, you’d listen. That wasn’t against the rules. Staying over was, though.

“Something you want to talk about?” you finally asked when he made no move to start the conversation himself.

He was weighing the options, the pitfalls of opening up to you, the downsides of locking himself away. That was his issue, apparently—never quite showing or giving enough. Or so he’d been told.

“I can’t stay?” Another statement turned into a question. It wasn’t what he actually wanted to talk about, but it was the best he could do. Old habits die hard.

You sighed, head dropping back against the pillow behind you. You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, wanting to choose your answer to the question carefully. There was only one right answer, but you didn’t want to say it wrong.

“I don’t know what happened today, but—”

“Nothing happened,” he said, a little harsher than he meant to.

You paused, pressing your lips together in a thin line. “Okay, fine. Nothing happened. I don’t know what didn’t happen today, Horacio, but I think you should go.”

“Why?”

You let out a tired laugh. “Because that’s…that’s what we do. That’s why this works.” You paused. “Unless you don’t think it’s working anymore. Which means we need to be having a very different conversation.”

You could practically see the walls going back up in real time, not quite as effective as they had been before. “You’re right—I should go.”

He got off the bed, gathering his clothes off the floor and dressing himself as he went. While he was busy with that you went and grabbed an old t-shirt for yourself. Neither of you said anything as you walked with him to the door. It felt different this time. It wasn’t as though the two of you were the types to kiss goodbye—you weren’t a couple after all. But there was a tension in the air now that almost made you feel like he was waiting for something to happen.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you said, “Get some safe, yea?”

He nodded. “Yea.”

You couldn’t get a read on his expression, so you asked, “I’ll see you?”

He knew what you meant despite the vague nature of your question. He gave you another nod. “Of course you will.”

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sarahthebanished · 2 years

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Can't Fight This Feeling Pt. 4

Your kisses against his skin changed from gentle to wanting, and you moved up from his chest to his neck and across his jaw line. Eddie met your mouth with hunger, and you pulled him over on top of you, to nestle between your legs. He supported himself with one arm and the other was all over you, breaking the barrier of your thin shirt to move up and palm your breast. The friction of his calloused skin on your delicate nipple caused it to immediately harden, he toyed with it gently.

As your kisses continued, he gently bucked his hips into yours and you felt his hardness which sent a wave of desire radiating from deep within. Drawing your lips away, you pulled up at your shirt, revealing your bare breasts to him fully for the first time. He barely gasped, immediately ducking down to draw a nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked at the sensitive bud, and you moaned and arched up into him. Your reaction encouraged him, and he slid his hand down between your bodies to find your heat.

***Eddie Munson x Female Reader • 18 plus • 3.6k words***

THE SMUT IS HERE, what all you horny fucks have been waiting for, cursing, drug use, virgin Eddie and virgin reader, first time, graphic depictions of sexual acts, but also tenderness and love

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Over the last several months, there had been many first for you and Eddie.

The first time you kissed, for example. In his bedroom at midnight while some horribly cheesy love song played, expressing all the words that Eddie had been unable to find.

The first time he introduced you as his girlfriend to your friends, who had all responded with an overwhelming consensus of “it’s about fucking time” because apparently you both were transparent to everyone but each other. “There must be something wrong with her,” Gareth had teased. “Yea, I keep waiting for her to change her mind,” Eddie had taken it all with stride.

The first time you held hands in the hallway at school. People had stared and you’re pretty sure even laughed. You held onto Eddie proudly. He planted a kiss on your check or brought your hand up to his face any time someone stared for too long, reassuring both them and you that he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.

The first time he’d spent the night, not on the couch, but in the bed with you. You’d stayed up way too late talking, afraid that if you both just shut up and went to sleep, you’d miss out on something magical. Desperate to soak up every precious moment together. You finally passed out in each other’s arms around 3 am. Eddie snored. You had teased him about it the next day, how he had done to you when he spent his first night on your couch.

The first time he’d called you sweetheart. “Call you tomorrow, sweetheart,” he’d promised as he kissed your forehead on his way out the door. The first of many sweethearts, but each one felt like velvet in your ears. A gentle reminder that you were special to him. His sweetheart.

The first time you guys really made out, in the back of his van during lunch, tangled in each other’s limbs and practically rolling around in the dirty carpet. Had to stop yourselves and go to opposite ends like toddlers in trouble before you crossed another first off the list.

The first time you exchanged I love you’s. Laying on top of his van on a flannel blanket, parked out at lovers’ lake and staring at the stars. He’d kissed up your arm, shoulder and into your neck. Inhaling the smell of your hair deeply, he sighed out “I love you” right into your ear. You’d nearly cried with joy and thrown yourself on top of him. Showering him with a million kisses before saying it back.

The first time you’d seen his dick, your hand wrapping around it so unsure and careful because you’d never even seen one in person, much less touched it. Pumping your fist up and down trying to gauge the right way to do it, you’d barely made it 30 seconds before Eddie was visibly coming to the edge. “Don’t you do it, Eddie Munson!” you had warned him, trying to savor the experience, but he spilled out all over your hand anyway and then blushed at the sight of his own cum on your skin.

Yea, there had been a lot of firsts with Eddie. Each experience was unique and exciting for both of you. You were forming core memories that you’d carry with you for the rest of your lives. There was just one first that you hadn’t addressed.

And it was the biggest one.

You had talked about it, here and there. Never going into much detail because the conversation made you both tense with nerves and anticipation. Eddie was gentle. Always gentle. He never pushed or made you feel like you had to do anything. There have been moments. Fondling through clothes, dry humping on each other’s thighs as you made out. The quick hand job you’d given him. He’d rubbed you through your panties one night and you thought you were dying from the pleasure. But that was as far as it had gone. Neither one of you had much experience and though your cores ached to be together, you both were scared to make that move.

Now, lying in his bed with music playing softly and the glow of his bedside lamp, you stared up at him as he sang along to the song with a partially smoked joint sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

He was on his side, facing you, with his arm bent underneath him, leaning his head on his hand for support. His chest was bare aside from two tattoos towards his left shoulder. He was broad and muscular, but also soft and warm. Defined jaw line and full lips that kissed you just right. Mop of thick curls flowing down and just barely hiding his collar bones. You were so in love with him. Eddie was a beautiful person who had given your life so much purpose, so much joy. You reached up with one hand and placed it on his cheek as he sang, pulling his attention down to you.

His warm, brown eyes met yours and his face changed to sport the signature stupid fucking grin you had grown to adore. His cheeks wrinkled. You stared at him.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” He asked sincerely. You rubbed your hand gently on his face, and he pressed into the affectionate gesture. “Just love you,” you said honestly. “Admiring the view.”

His grin changed to a full-on toothy smile, his head cocked upwards a little, asking “you like what you see?”

You drew his face down into a kiss, mumbling “very much so” into his lips as they met yours. Eddie kissed you deeply. He always did. He kissed you like he was pouring every bit of love he could into it. He kissed you like each kiss was your first and your last. He started to pull away and you gripped him tightly, pushing into the kiss to let him know you wanted more. He did not fight it, pressing into your tongue with his. The sensation sent shock waves down to your core and you sucked on Eddie’s tongue softly which elicited a moan from his mouth to yours.

He pulled back now, as he often did when the energy between you two grew needy. Never pushy, he always let you come to him for more. You knew part of it was because he was a gentleman, and part of it was because he was nervous. He offered you the joint that was still in his fingers and you took it, taking a deep draw. He watched you closely. You loved how he watched you, like you were a movie he was deeply interested in. He barely even blinked.

You exhaled and took another small hit before passing the joint back and adjusted in the bed a little. Arms across your abdomen and staring straight ahead at the Corroded Coffin banner he had hanging across the cracked window.

His room was chaotic, filled the brim with him. It was like a museum of Eddie, his interests and passions thrown all over the place. There was not much room to walk, his amps and furniture taking up most of the space. Didn’t matter, though, because you spent most of the time sprawled across the bed.

The high from the weed you’d been sharing was settling in, making you feel heavy and relaxed. Eddie was snuffing the joint out, leaving the roach in the ash tray he moved to his bedside table. He laid down full next to you, throwing his arm across your belly and pulling you tight into the space next to him. You turned into him, his skin was so warm and he smelled faintly of deodorant and tobacco. Nestling into the crook of his neck, you placed a few soft kisses which he hummed in response to.

“I am so stoned,” you muttered against his collar bone. He chuckled, asking you, “is that not the goal?” You laughed loudly against his skin before closing your lips again to pepper him with kisses. His hands ran down your back and settled on your ass, pawing gently at the fabric of your panties.

The weight of his arms on you felt like the only thing anchoring you to the planet. You didn’t know it was possible to feel such security, such bliss, you knew that no matter where life took you, that Eddie was your home. You’d follow him anywhere.

“I love you,” he said into the top of your head, pressing his chin down on it to squeeze you harder. Though you were both touching pretty much head to toe, there was a need to get closer. It was never enough. As he pressed into you, your body responded with arousal. A heat formed in between your legs, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. You were not used to this aching feeling, but you didn’t fight it. There was something compelling you to explore it.

As his kisses continued, he gently bucked his hips into yours and you felt his hardness which sent a wave of desire radiating from deep within. Drawing your lips away, you pulled up at your shirt, revealing your bare breasts to him full. Another first. He barely gasped, immediately ducking down to draw a nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked at the sensitive bud, and you moaned and arched up into him. Your reaction encouraged him, and he slid his hand down between your bodies to find your heat.

Staying outside of the fabric, he rubbed at your sensitivity with a gentle pressure, continuing to work your nipple with his mouth. “Eddie,” you breathed his name out, “more.”

He took his hand away and you whimpered, wriggling under him to pull your own panties down. Eddie rolled to the side of you again, letting you have the freedom to kick them off of your ankles. “Your panties on my floor,” he said with a cheeky smile, “never in a million years…” his thought trailed off as his eyes took you in, naked from the chest down with your shirt bunched up around shoulders.

Your body was tingling from head to toe, as he brought a hand over and cupped your breast. You were vulnerable under his gaze, which was exciting and scary. Torturously he moved ever so slowly towards your aching core, “I want you to touch me,” you instructed. “I want to touch you,” he agreed, “you’re so sexy.” He said the words like he was in a trance, eyes wild and focused on every inch of skin he could see.

As good as his hands felt on you, they were not where you wanted them to be. You thrusted hungrily upwards as he found your pubic bone, encouraging him to touch. He looked at you quickly, as if gauging your emotions, before sliding a finger into your slit. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking wet,” he stated boldy, like the way you felt shocked him, and you could’ve melted into the mattress right then. “Please, Eddie,” you wanted to beg but didn’t really know what for.

You grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his fingers upward, causing them to slide right over the bundle of nerves that was throbbing for his touch. You trembled at the sensation, letting out a small gasp. “Oh, is this what you want?” Eddie asked slyly, applying a slight pressure and rotating his fingers on your clit. “Mmhmm” you whimpered out, clawing at his shoulder for dear life. You held onto him as he stimulated you. Only your own fingers had touched you there before, and they never felt as good as what he was doing now. “Don’t stop,” you begged as your writhed under his touch.

“Fuck, you are so sexy right now,” Eddie hissed, pulling you into a rough kiss before dropping your mouth. Wanting more, you tried to kiss him again, but he pulled away. “I want to watch you,” he said, and those words were just enough to send you right to the edge.

Your entire body was on fire, every muscle was screaming, you tossed your arms around his neck to support yourself and arched up into his motions suddenly. Your orgasm was intense, and your body spasmed as his touches did not waver. You cried out with release as Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Holy shit,” you moaned out as he slowed his touches down to nothing, helping you ride down the other side of the wave. He smiled down at you in a way that let you know he felt powerful, confident in what he had just done. Your arms fell from their grip on him and every muscle that had just spasmed gave out.

“That was fucking amazing,” you said with a small laugh, sort of embarrassed at how you had reacted to the pleasure. “I want more,” you said suddenly.

Eddie laughed down at you and brought his hand back to your pussy, barely touching the throbbing bud that he had just worked over. You jerked a little at the over sensitivity and looked up at him, saying firmly “That’s not what I mean.”

Eddie stilled his hand and your eyes connected. You bit down on your bottom lip and rocked your hips back and forth under his hand. As if he suddenly understood, he responded with “Hell yea!” and scrambled back on top of you. Freezing above you, looking down, his hair was falling around his face. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He asked sincerely, barely letting his own erection that was still bound in his shorts touch your inner thigh.

You nodded, nervous but buzzing with anticipation. “Ok, um, wow,” he stumbled around his words, hopping up to dig through his bedside table. “I think I have some condoms,” he continued to dig frantically, and you tried to steady your breathing. Finally, he pulled his hand up, fingers gripping the condom as he held it out to you like it was the One Ring.

He enthusiastically climbed back on top of you, knees between your thighs and kissed you hungrily.

“Take these fucking things off,” you insisted, moving your hands to pull and tug at his boxers and shorts. The tension of the last several months was coming to a head and all you wanted to do was be as close to him as you could be. Eddie leaned back on his knees and enthusiastically pulled his clothes down to reveal his erection, which bounced up and hit him in the torso with an audible thump.

Holy shit, was Eddie’s dick mesmerizing. Thick but not too long, the head was glistening with anticipation. As Eddie moved to pull his legs free, you watched with wonder at what you saw. All yours. He was hard for you. Fuck, you felt like a goddess.

Grabbing for the condom that Eddie had left on the bed next to you, you adjusted yourself to sit up in front of him as you tore into the package. Condom in your hand, you reached forward to grip his erection which made him involuntarily whimper. “Can I put it on?” you asked, and Eddie couldn’t form words, just nodded as he stared down at your hand holding him. Gingerly you positioned the opening of the rubber on his swollen head and felt him twitch in your grasp. Rolling it downward, it clung to every groove and vein before stopping just an inch before the base. You looked down at your work, then up at Eddie, the silence full of electricity, before laying back down against the mattress.

Eddie reached down and stroked himself once, then twice as he positioned back between your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders and he was trembling. “Are you ok?” you asked sincerely. “Nervous,” he replied quietly. “I’ve never…” his words trailed off. “Hey,” you took his face in between your hands, “me neither.” You both already knew this, but just saying it out loud made it feel easier. Expectations lifted.

“I wanna make you feel good,” Eddies words came out desperately, like a prayer to whatever was listening. “You will,” you assured him, rising up slightly to kiss him quickly.

Moving slowly, still shaking, he ever so gently worked himself up and down through your wetness, gathering the moisture on his tip and using his hand to slick it down his length. Your heart was pounding, your pussy was practically crying for him, and you were about to lose your god damn mind if he didn’t get on with it.

“You are absolutely sure?” Eddie asked again, “I am more than sure,” you promised, “are you?” You asked him sincerely, but impatiently, wrapping a hand around your own breast and squeezing it.

“Fuck, sweetheart, yes,” Eddie confessed as he lined his velvet tip up right at your opening, but he stopped. Unmoving, he just stared down at you. “Eddie, please,” you wiggled your hips gently, feeling your opening nestle around his sensitive head ever so slightly.

“I want you.” One last affirmation brought Eddie back to life, and carefully, consciously, he pressed himself into you. You took a slow and deep breath in as the pressure built, stretching you in brand new ways. “Is this ok?” he asked, pausing himself, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m ok,” you reassured him, the sting in your core a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Keep going.”

Eddie bent slightly and planted a tender kiss on your forehead as he finally entered you fully. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I’m gonna move now.” He gave a word of caution as he pulled his length out and glided back in with a sharp hiss. He was so gentle, watching you for every reaction. “So tight,” he breathed out through his own pleasure. You were tight, feeling like Eddie was splitting you in two in the best way. You whimpered, a mix of desperation and bliss, the sensation of Eddie inside of you creating static in your brain.

Eddie’s movements slowly built-up mild momentum. Awkward motions at first, but not unpleasant by any means. You let out small noises with each inward push, still adjusting to the fullness. A soft rhythm soon formed, and Eddie had to stop himself for a moment. “You feel so good,” he praised you, “knew you would.”

His words caused you to clench around him, which he met with a low growl. Without warning, his thrusts suddenly got much faster, pistoning himself down into your swollen cunt without limitations. You let his name crawl out of your throat as your head fell back onto the pillow. He showered your exposed neck with sloppy kisses, gripping your hip to hold you still.

You looked up at him, eyes blurred with pleasure, and he was a new creature. His usually expressive eyes were blank, pupils wide with lust. His curly bangs were wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he worked himself in and out of you. His lips were opened, breathing quickly through his mouth, his bottom lip was shiny from spit. His movements were needy, harsh, and you ate it up, clenching to hold him as tight as you could with every thrust.

The moans and grunts coming from you were practically unhuman and you were slightly embarrassed at how hard it was for you to hold back. You dug into his ass cheeks with your heels, pushing him deeper into you and letting out a yell as he pressed into a spot deep inside that you didn’t even know you had.

Eddie was fucking into you like a dog in heat, laying his chest across yours and gripping you around both shoulders. Both of your bodies were completely overstimulated, yet somehow desperate for more. You felt pressure rising and every muscle in your body tensed in seconds, and your second orgasm was a white heat that spread all over you from the inside out. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair and hanging on for dear life, convinced you were going to levitate off the mattress. He relented to your direction, laying his head on your shoulder. “I’m gonna, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warned.

He sat up suddenly, pumping into you two more times before letting out a series of animalistic grunts, one hand gripping your thigh and digging into the doughy flesh. You watched in awe as his body spasmed into yours as he emptied himself. You had made him cum. Your body had made Eddie Munson cum. If you had a camera in arm’s length, you’d have taken a Polaroid to keep forever.

When he was spent, he collapsed down on top of you, leaving his softening dick inside. You both gasped for air, neither of you able to form a thought and completely fuck drunk. Covered in sweat, your bodies embraced, all the love that had been building finally exchanged in a physical display. “God, I fucking love you!” he shouted, rising up and peppering you with loud and enthusiastic kisses. You giggled and squirmed under his affection.

“I just have one question,” you proposed, pulled his attention to your words.

“You got any spaghettios?”

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