#i think i covered just about all the ones i speak to or see on dash a lot 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evie-sturns · 2 days

Text

calm - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a terrible day of arguing with your boyfriend, accidentally breaking your favorite perfume, and now your hair and outfit not going to plan, all your emotions hit you at once and matt has to calm you down.

contains: fluff, crying, arguing, comforting!matt.

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

10:38am

i huff angrily as i tug up my knotty hair into a ponytail, my arms burn while i attempt to tie the elastic around my thick hair. suddenly the elastic snaps, pinging my hand almost in a mocking way.

"oh for fucks sake!" i whine, throwing my fact into my hands as i reach for the hair gel.

i plop more on the top of my head, my hands now sticky and my whole body sweating. i finally get my hair up into a ponytail, but it looks like total shit.

i sigh before stomping out of the bathroom into matt and i's shared room, i swing open the door and ignore matt as i reach for the closet.

matt and i have argued a record amount of times today, it's almost impressive.

flashback:

it was 6 in the morning, and i rolled over onto matt accidentally.

he shoots up in bed as i lay my body weight on his arm, "ow! ow get the fuck off!" he says in a pissy mood, i drift awake slowly as matt shoves me off him.

"matt come on." i groan, grabbing my shoulder from where he just shoved me off of him. "dont say come on like you didn't just break my fucking arm and wake me up at 6am in one sweep."

"i'm not that heavy matt, don't be stupid." i scoff, rolling over in bed to the edge of the mattress, a good meter away from him.

"yes you are, your fully body weight was on my arm." he says with an attitude,

"so you're calling me fat?" i ask angrily,

"dude, just go get out of here." matt demands, pointing towards the door, the nickname stinging a little bit.

"its my room matt, i'll stay right here, not my fault your acting like a child." i raise my voice, slamming my body down onto the mattress and tugging the covers up over me, my back facing matt.

i wasn't expecting matt to leave, but he did. he shot up out of bed and grabbed his pillow, he walked swiftly out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him

and i think that set the mood for the whole day, because now 4 hours have passed and we’ve argued about matt being lazy, me leaving out dishes, him ignoring me, and me apparently being a brat.

i sort through our closet, tugging out a small skirt and one of matt's shirt.

"did i say you could borrow that?" matt speaks from the edge of the bed, my head snaps round to look at him.

"stop matt!" i almost yell, which shuts matt up quickly.

i storm back into the bathroom, i hear matt laugh slightly from behind me.

i tear off my pyjamas, and tug up the tiny skirt. as i go to zip up the sides the zipper pops off.

and that will do it.

i erupt into a loud sob, which quickly escalates into floods of tears.

i hear some movement coming from matt and i’s room before the bathroom door swings open, matt takes one look at me and his face drops.

i don’t want to look at him, or for matt to see me like this.

“hey- hey what’s going on sweetheart?” matt says, panic clear in his voice as he reaches for the side of my face.

i shake my head as more and more tears flow down my flushed cheeks.

he wraps his arms around me and i bury my face in the fabric of his shirt.

i let out shaky breaths as i attempt to calm myself down, my body shaking in matt’s arms.

“come- come to the bedroom.” he whispers into my hair before picking me up by my ass.

i nod as i bury my face into his shoulder, matt carries me into our air conditioned bedroom and plops me down on the edge of the bed.

my legs dangle of the edge of the matress, matt sits down right beside me, the matress shifting under his weight.

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to him as i continue to cry.

“what’s going on baby.” matt says softly, rubbing my back.

i crawl over and sit myself down on matt’s lap, straddling him.

he grabs the sides of my face with two hands, his thumbs wiping my tears delicately.

“you- you’re mad at me.” i squeeze out with a loud voice crack

matt’s eyebrows furrow, but i continue to speak “and- and i don’t look good.. like my hair and outfit.” i sniff

matt plants a kiss to my swollen lips, he grabs my chin, making me look at him.

“i would never be mad at you princess, sometimes people fight and that’s okay, but what happened today wasn’t worth fighting for.” matt says while looking into my eyes

“and you look absolutely gorgeous, honestly.” matt says, his eyes gazing over my face.

“i didn’t mean to wake you up this morning- i promise.” i sob, letting my head fall onto matt’s shoulder.

“you know i’m grumpy in the mornings don’t you, it’s not your fault, and i’m so sorry for making you feel like it was.” matt sighs, rubbing my back soothingly.

i sit on his lap in silence for a couple minutes as i take in sharp breaths.

i feel matts chest rise and fall against mine, i attempt to copy his breathing.

“my skirt broke earlier.” i say lightly, lifting my face away from matt’s shoulder.

“did it?” matt asks, his head tilting down as his long fingers inspect my skirt.

i nod, pointing to the broken zip. “i’ll get you another one tomorrow, how about that?” he speaks with a small smile.

“you don’t have to do that.” i breathe, “i’m gonna do it anyway as an apology for how i acted today.” he protests.

“let’s get you out of that skirt then if it’s broken.” matt suggests, picking me up again and walking me over the the closet.

he pulls out a pair of his sweatpants and brings me back over to the bed, matt places me down on the edge of the bed and bends down.

his hands tug down the hem of my skirt, pulling it down my thighs.

he purses his lips out of concentration before tugging the sweatpants up my legs.

he stands back up “you want your hair out?” he asks,

“it’s gonna be crunchy if i take it out, because of the amount of gel i put in.. but it’s also tugging on my scalp like crazy.”

“i’ll wash your hair later for you.” matt smiles, he’s always loved washing my hair for some reason.

i wipe my face, flustered by his words.

“do you want some water?” he asks, i rub my puffy eyes with a nod.

he walks over to me and grabs my hand, tugging me up off the bed. matt walks me out of our room into the corridor.

i follow closely behind him as we walk down the corridor into the kitchen.

i stand next to the counter top, matt walks over to me and grabs me under my armpits before lifting me up onto the countertop.

he grabs a cup and fills it up with cold water before walking over to me.

he holds it up to my lips, “and… open.” he says, i open my mouth slightly and matt pours some water into my mouth,

he accidentally pours too much, my cheeks hollowing out as i lock eyes with him.

i let out a loud laugh, spraying the water all over his shirt.

i slam a hand over my mouth as the water leaks down my chin.

“oh- my god.” matt erupts into laughter, both of our laughs filling the room.

“i am so sorry-“ i say in between giggles.

“how did that even happen-“ matt rubs his eyes with a wide smile,

“i’m so sorry- i don’t even know-“ i laugh,

but i’m cut off by his soft lips pressed against mine.

“i love you.” he mutters against my lips with a grin,

“i love you more.”

——

@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo

756 notes · View notes

sircrocodilespersonalwhore · 2 days

Text

A Needy Wife Needs A Giving Husband

| Nanami x wife!reader

✰Synopsis: Nanami catches his perfect wife playing with her needy cunt in the shower…

Warning: 18+ only, MDNI!!!, masturbation, pussy eating, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm, dirty talking, masturbation with shower head, and water play?!?! (I’m just talking to just to talk rn)

☁︎AN: Hello everyone! Thank you once again for the follows. I truly appreciate you all. I hope you enjoy this quick draft that was lingering in my mind last night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Ahh~…Na-Nanami!…R-right there baby-ah~!”, you whimper as Nanami listens outside of the bathroom. He had just made it home a few minutes ago. He expected to be greeted at the door by his perfect wife, but today you weren’t there. Even though this pissed him off a little, he didn’t mind the view that was in front of him. His breath hitches at the sounds of your beautiful moans and he starts to get turned on. His dick printing through his slacks.

‘So this is what she was up to.’, Nanami thinks to himself as he peaks into the bathroom taking in the sight of you with your legs spread wide open like he loves. Your face messy with tears as you use the shower head to play with your clit. He watches as you tease yourself with the water and close your legs tight from the stimulation. “Ohhh~ Nanami…I want you here right now…”, you moan softly as you use your fingers to rub your clit closing your eyes shut as the pleasure builds up again. After hearing such a begging call, Nanami can’t take it anymore and quietly enters the bathroom. You smile to yourself and throw your head back. Eyes opening wide to a hard Nanami in your face. You jump up quickly and cover yourself as best as you can.

“Na-Nanami…baby, when did you get home?”, you stutter. “Don’t worry about that. You said you want me right?”, he roughly grabs your jaw and kisses you passionately. After a few more sloppy, but passionate kisses, he lets go of his hold on you, “Stand up.”. Your pussy pulses at his assertiveness. He can be so fucking hot when he talks to you like this. You try your best to stand up straight, but your previous session left your legs a little weak. Nanami takes a seat on the shower bench and pats his lap for you to sit. You sit on his lap teasing him a bit by grinding your plump ass on his clothed dick. Nanami grabs your waist, sits you down and slaps your thighs. Pulling your legs up, he lays his arms over them to prevent you from closing off access to your needy cunt. You look up at Nanami and kiss along his jawline. He smiles a bit before taking the shower head into his hand.

Taking his free hand, Nanami spreads your pussy lips open with two fingers, “Damn my pussy gets prettier every time I see her.”. You blush at his response as you always loved the way he compliments your body and speak ownership of it. Nanami takes one of his fingers and rubs circles on your clit. He brings the shower head to your sensitive nipples and lets the water hit them directly. You moan softly and arch your back as you melt. Nanami smirks at you unraveling in his lap, so needy for his cock and touch. “It’s been some time since I’ve played with you…right, baby?”, Nanami kisses down your neck sending waves of pleasure through your body with each kiss. “Y-yess…mmmm~ah…Nanami please.”, you beg your husband to satisfy you. Truth be told, only his touch can relieve this arching core.

Nanami kiss your lips and moves the shower head to your clit. He takes the water and lets it run through your folds. Taking a nipple into his mouth to suck on, he pulls the shower head back and spreads your lips wider. The water attacks your clit and your moans become louder. “Na-NANAMI!”, you call his name as you grab at his shirt. Your pussy is so sensitive and water feels almost similar to Nanami’s tongue. Nanami notices your hips lifting and starts to move the shower head side to side to mimic his tongue movements when eating you out. Your head flies back and you turn into a babbling mess. “Thank you~ah!..Na~ah!AHH!…T-thank you Nanami!”, you cry out as tears flood your eyes again. Your core starts to tighten and Nanami moves the shower head closer to your cunt. The onslaught of water against your needy pussy makes up buck your hips up repeatedly. Feeling your orgasm coming you try to close your legs, but Nanami’s arms stop your attempt, “What’s wrong (y/n)? You was just taking it a minute ago…don’t tell me my good girl is tapping out…”, Nanami teases you as your eyes roll back. Squirt and water mix together as Nanami doesn’t let up on your clit, “Your not getting off that easy. Give me a real orgasm.”.

He places your hand on your pussy and tells you to spread your lips for him. You obey and he starts fingering you while moving the shower head water in circular movements on your clit. “Haaahh…mmmph..ah..I…think I’m going to c~ah…cum!”, you moan in between breaths. Everything is starting to overstimulate you as your vision starts to turn white. “Cum for me baby. Soak my fingers in your juices.”, Nanami groans as he feels your walls tighten around him. Your knuckles start to turn white as you grip his arm holding the shower head. With one last pump of Nanami’s fingers, you start to orgasm. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in a pulsing manner, “I…love…you…Nanami.”, was all you can say as your high got the best of you. You twitched in his lap as your teary eyes started to daze. Nanami kisses the top of your head before he rest you on the bench. “I love you more than anything, (y/n).”, he whispers in your ear before taking his place in front of your dripping overstimulated cunt.

He opens your legs wide and stares at the mess you made. He looks up at you before he gives your needy pussy a long lick, lapping up your juices. “Taste yourself”, he tells you while you whimper wanting more of him. You happily kiss him and suck your mess off his tongue. Nanami made you fall in love with tasting yourself. He grabs your throat and released the kiss, “Understand why I love eating this cunt?”. You nod your head and bite your lip begging for his thick dick, “I need you so bad Nanami. It’s been so long.”. He smirks and unbuttons his soaking wet shirt. His belt falls next with his slacks and boxers right after. Stroking himself, Nanami leans close to your body, “Don’t worry baby, I’m in the giving mood. And you better take all that I give you tonight.”.

329 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 13 hours

Note

Hii!

(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)

The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?

I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.

Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.

He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.

Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.

Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.

‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.

He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.

‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.

He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.

‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’

You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.

Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.

Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.

He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.

‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.

‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.

He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.

Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.

He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.

Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.

Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.

You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.

He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.

Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner

Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!

Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.

He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.

However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.

‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’

Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.

210 notes · View notes

thehandmaidenofcreativity · 12 hours

Text

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

#kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin #skz fluff #skz smut #skz x reader #skz fanfic #seungmin

66 notes · View notes

captain039 · 3 days

Text

PART 2 Predator grounds (Cooper Howard)

Alpha!Cooper Howard (pre-war)x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB dynamics, vault tech things, forced heats/ruts, eventual smut, age gap, angst? Experiments, needles, drugs, talks of pregnancy, first times, anxiety attacks, anxiety, forced claiming

Previous part <-

Has it even been a day down here? You remember falling in and out of sleep on the edge of the bed, almost falling off at one point. You know the lights went dim twice so far and the music stopped when it did. You wish you could put those damn speakers up the vaults overseers ass if he was even around. Hell the only person you saw was the man bringing the food everyday. His overly cheery voice making you want to reach through the food slot and choke him. You think you’ve used too much water considering you’ve had five showers now, well you weren’t really washing yourself more like sitting on the floor in despair trying to relieve yourself quietly so the alpha outside didn’t hear. He hasn’t said a word, he’s been quietly brooding in the corner for the last few days. You’re worried about him, he always looks tense, you swear he never sleeps and he’s always twitching at every sound he hears. You feel sorry for him, feel sorry that he isn’t with the one person he married even if they did seperate he deserves that familiarity. He wouldn’t be in this harsh rut too, someone to take the ease off. God you’ve imagined too many times about how he could take you in every single inch of this vault room. He’s moved the couch to the corner, pushed the TV out of the way, he moved it while you were in the shower the second time.

You haven’t drawn the curtains back so you can’t see out into the hall way, hell you don’t want to, that couple across from you probably still going at it. You sit on the floor on pillows and a towel reading a crappy book they supplied on the book shelf. You haven’t explored all the shelves and cupboard, hell you probably wouldn’t mind watching a movie but it’s on his side of the room. You’ve never seen Mr Howard like this, so tense and caught up in his head, he’s usually a care free, kind, charcmismic man. Guess being frozen for 200 years will do that to a man. You glance at him hesitantly and gulp a little.

“Mr Howard?” You finally speak and he hums looking to you. His stare makes you falter and you nervously glance at the wall behind him before focusing back on his eyes.

“Are you- are you doing ok? Do you want a book? I think the Video tapes are on the bottom shelf too” you gesture to the light brown shelf filled with books and tape holders.

“I’m ok, sweetheart” he says his lips twitching slightly and you just nod a little saddened. You say against the wall head leaning on the mattress cursing the ache in your lower stomach.

“Room 236” a woman’s voice calls over and you frown.

“You’re not completing your functions!” She says cheerily and you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go fuck yourself and do it yourself asshole” Cooper yells and you flinch a bit at the tone but smile to yourself.

“If this continues we will seperate you to more appropriate partners! We want to save the America and you can help!” Coopers statement goes ignored and her words make your whole body tense and into a panic. You can’t go to someone else, you can’t be with someone else you’ve never done this, what the hell? They can’t just move you to get impregnated. You don’t want kids, the thought of a baby terrifies you.

“Sweetie look at me” you can hear Coopers voice briefly but your heart is pounding in your ears. He yells your name and you flinch and look at him.

“You’re alright, they’re not gonna take you from this room ok, I promise” he says so sincerely but he can’t control them, can’t control if they do take you, they’re in control here.

The lights dim signalling night time and you’re curled up hiding under the covers like it’d save you. The speakers words scare you to death, this whole situation seems to be dawning on you. Tears roll down your face silently and you suck in a small breath. You don’t hear the footsteps till you feel the bed dip and your heart rate rockets into panic.

“It’s me” Cooper mutters and you let out the breath in a shudder that you were holding.

“I keep my promises you know this” he speaks softly in the darkness and you nod your head despite him not being able to see.

“I know” you croak cursing yourself silently. He always did, he was that kind of man.

“Get some sleep” he mutters after some silence and walks back to his side of the room.

Morning comes, the lights turning on brightly making you wince. You didn’t sleep well at all last night, tossing and turning, fleeting nightmares. Alarms blare and you’re suddenly wide awake and standing up by the bed on wobbly feet. Your door is opening, Cooper is up quickly as well. You see two men in hazard suits and two people behind them with guns. You tense realising they were here to take you away. You see a scared woman being held behind the four people, she’s cuffed and held by two others in hazard suits.

“You aren’t fulfilling your duties in room 236, we are to remove the omega and replace her” his words sound automated and suddenly you’re wrapped up in strong arms.

“You won’t take her” Coopers voice is low, his breathing is coming out almost in a harsh snarl, he’s got one arm across your upper chest the other over your stomach.

“Sir, let the omega go” the people in the hazard suits are unbothered by the smells and tone he’s using.

“You. Won’t. Take. Her” he breathes harshly between each word and you swear he’s a man possessed.

“I’m so sorry” he whispers softly in your ear and suddenly there’s like an electric shock of pleasure going through your body as blunt teeth clamp on your shoulder. You let out a strangled noise as a mating bond clicks into place, you’re flooded by him and feelings making you stagger but not fall in his embrace.

“You won’t take my mate away” he challenges after he stops biting and you’re in a daze. They halt there advances, a mate bond is strong, he won’t touch another omega now. They step back hands up and the door slides shut. You breathe deeply, having held your breath majority of that time as you finally process everything that happened. You place a hand on your neck feeling where he bit and stutter. You hear him apologising feel him move in front of you but you’re in overload right now. You don’t look at him, you turn, grab a chair and head to the bathroom. You force the chair against the door and collapse to the floor in a heap. What just happened?

NOTES:

To continue Wasteland heat I gotta watch the episodes again I think I got like episode five? While writing and then had this idea xD but I’ll continue Wasteland heat after xD

#x reader #aob #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #cooper Howard #pre war cooper howard #vault

66 notes · View notes

velarisbynight · 10 hours

Text

Watch From The Shadows While You Laugh In The Firelight

Azriel x Eris

Day 1 of @azrisweek : Contrasts

a/n: in honesty I just wanted to play around a little with Eris being the one keeping to himself and Azriel comfortably moving about in conversation 🩷🩷 (also just Eris being cold on the outside but clearly in love with Azriel during his inner monologue)

word count: 1.1k ~

~~~~~~~~

Shadows flicker on the walls, and he’s grateful for even the slightest extra cover of darkness he’s afford in his corner.

Around him are nothing but open faces and the tingling sounds of laughter, and Eris feels as though he would rather rupture his own eardrums than listen to another grating second of it. It’s so sincere.

“You look surprisingly out of control, away in your corner over here,” a voice says, a voice he would never be able to forget the agonised screams of that he’d been able to hear long after steel had sliced through flesh and bone, cleaving a head from fair shoulders that had no doubt been loved, and treated with the tender kindness he knows his youngest brother was not forced to purge from himself.

“Lucien,” Eris greets, unable to quite rid his tone of that sharp ice, so accustomed to harbouring any sort of warmth far away from his frozen surface. It doesn’t seem to bother the male, though, basked in that almost imperceptible glow that had gilded him even as a boy—the surest sign he was different from the rest of them. Set apart right from the get go.

“Where’s your mate? You’re usually joined at the hip,” Eris muses, idly swirling the effervescent liquid in his glass, watching how his brother’s mechanical eye clicks and whirrs, and he finds himself slightly frightened at his inability to recall how Lucien had appeared before the High Queen had carved it out.

“I could say the same for you,” Lucien returns, “it’s unlike you to be without your shadow.”

The comment prompts two amber eyes to instinctively glance across the room, instantly seeking out the set that possess such an innate understanding it had utterly overwhelmed him at first.

Azriel is speaking with the High Lord, and General of the Night Court, shadows spooling freely about his wings, sprawled lazily over the broad width of his shoulders like a small but vicious feline, dressed in his usual black that’s accented by the lone ruby cuffs at the hem of his sleeves. The twinkling of the gemstones pushes his hand into action, passively raising as the pads of his fingers graze the silver and azure jewel hanging from the highest point of his elegantly arched ear, subconsciously playing with the subtle match.

“Yes, well, not all of us have the freedom of time at our fingertips,” Eris replies quietly, unable to entirely guard the note of resentment in his lowered voice. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be jealous over someone else. Much less over your own mate’s happiness,” Lucien replies, matching the low tone. Amber eyes slice into the singular russet one, sharp, honed, and ready to draw blood. But Lucien stands his ground with that quiet resilience that’s been instilled in him since he was young.

Lucien’s own eye momentarily flicks over the male’s shoulder, and neatly groomed brows narrow almost imperceptibly, before glancing to where Lucien’s looking. Elain is sat on the sofa made to hold two bodies but is occupied by the three sisters, her eyes twinkling as laughter rises from between them, a look of nostalgia written across their features, utterly at home and relaxed in the presence of their family.

“I’m happy she can laugh,” Lucien murmurs, while Eris watches silently as the three continue to chatter, oblivious to their observers—maybe not as oblivious as he thinks though, knowing better than to underestimate. “I’m happy she is with her family.”

Eris’ throat tightens uncomfortably, slowly choking on the sickly warmth in the air, dry and raspy with heat and familiarity. The kind of comfort he doubt he’ll ever get the chance to see within his own court. Glancing back to his youngest brother, he catches the softness in his one russet eye, and understands he is truly happy for his mate.

“You’re a better male than I am,” Eris says quietly into his drink, eyes closing briefly under the pretence of taking in the richness of the wine, unable to stomach looking him in his eye.

“I grew up only having to protect myself,” Lucien replies, equally hushed, like speaking too loud might fracture whatever delicate thread is slowly beginning to sew the bridge back to its ropes, stitch by stitch. “You grew up having to protect all of us.”

Sharp amber eyes cut into honest russet, instinct calling for him to fall back onto bladed and honed words, but Lucien’s finishing off his drink. Walking past him, and laying his hand on Eris’s shoulder. “Enjoy the night.” And with that he’s blending seamlessly in with the chattering trio, welcomed with open faces and one particularly warm smile.

His throat rolling, Eris again glances across the room to where his mate is conversing with his…family. The word carries a sour taste in his mouth, foul and unpleasant as it slides down the back of his tongue. Eris’ eyes narrow as they lock with hazel, but the ice is quick to thaw beneath the soft look, the fondness that’s making its own rare appearance in the Spymaster’s normally guarded features, and softer still are the lips that curve almost imperceptibly.

Neither has to speak, and even without the bond between them Eris would understand the look. The invitation to join him in speaking with his…family.

To join in with the warmth and familiarity that’s thickening the air he’s struggling to even breathe in.

A dark brow raises, and his own narrow in response, at once showing displeasure at the tender challenge in his mate’s gaze, as if daring him to step forward.

Eris inclines his chin to the male, raising his head to slightly look down his nose at his mate as he accepts the invitation, managing to keep his legs from crumbling beneath him as he closes the distance between Azriel’s arm and his side, scarred fingers settling with warm familiarity over his ribs.

“I didn’t think you’d stand to stay this long,” Azriel murmurs beside his ear while the High Lord and General make polite discussion, offering the allusion of slight privacy.

Eris glances up into that swirling hazel, unable to help himself anymore.

“I’m happy you’re happy,” he murmurs, allowing quiet to lengthen between them, sharing the intimacy of silence. Dark eyes twinkle in the firelight, and Azriel leans forward, as if to press his lips to Eris’s brow, but is interrupted by a pointed cough coming from the General.

Eris makes no attempts to lessen the ire in the scathing glare he levels at Cassian for interrupting, but Azriel merely rolls his eyes, hand lightly squeezing Eris' waist, again conversing in that silent language they share. Later, together.

It’s enough to soothe him, for the moment.

#azrisweek2024 #azris #azriel x eris #azriel #eris #eris vanserra #a court of thorns and roses

31 notes · View notes

skellymom · 3 days

Note

Hey Skelly

You're taking requests? Oh I'd love to ask for one.

Could you please do a one-shot involving a reader and Hunter after Omega gets seriously injured on a mission (Bad enough to wind up in a Bacta Pod) and the reader has to comfort and reassure Hunter that Omega will be OK?

tysm, GenericFicer Hugs

@genericficerblog NICE! Another ASK!!! Thank you!

"THE INCIDENT"

The Bad Batch Hunter x Reader One Shot

Per more information (not included on this particular message):

So the reader is a male battle medic. It's all platonic The reader was a medic on Kamino. He had taken care of Omega after particularly bad tests (She has the scars to prove it) and he's protective of Omega because of her past with the Kaminoans

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning: Star Wars canon violence, angst, swearing, explosion, physical injuries, coma, mention of human experimentation by the Kaminoans.

I was tasked to hang back with Omega and Tech on board the Marauder. Hunter EXPRESSLY ordered us to stay put. His thinking was to only bring the members necessary for the job: Hunter at the head of the group, Echo next to him and to share logistics on comm with Tech, Wrecker as the “heavy”, and Crosshair as lookout/cover fire.

The job was technically low risk...but Hunter started having those “feelings” of his just before landing at our target.

Omega protested when he told her to stay on the ship. She had been looking forward to going on a mission for awhile. Many a time she stayed behind on Pabu with Shep and Lyana. Since her rescue from Tantiss, Hunter was dead set against her going on any dangerous missions.

Hunter’s words were “You’ll have plenty of time to fight with the Rebellion in the future. Won’t stay young forever.”

She bristled at those words. Then forgave him immediately after.

They LOVE each other so much!

But ever the doting dad, Hunter relented this time. She had eventually wore him down.

Oh...getting ahead of myself...who am I?

Hello. I’m Y/N. The Squad Formerly Known as Clone Force 99’s Medic/Backup Heavy/Or Whatever They Need Me For. I can patch up just about ANYTHING with the bare minimum of supplies. Sometimes my methods are unorthodox, per Tech’s opinion, but effective. It’s saved our butts a few times. So, they let me come along on every mission.

Plus, having known and taken care of Omega while on Kamino helped.

And the fact that Crosshair took a liking to me immediately sealed the deal. We both speak fluent sarcasm.

But...back to the mission...

“What’s taking SO LONG?” Omega fidgeted in her seat.

“My guess it is due to Hunter detecting an anomaly, they are taking their time.”

Tech and I were attempting to play a few rounds of Sebacc. I’m HORRIBLE at it. He thinks he can help me improve my game. I’m struggling currently.

“Safety first. No need to rush into trouble...especially since we seem to find it easily enough.” I threw down my cards.

Tech glanced at them and frowned.

“I totally messed up that hand too, huh?”

“Well, it’s not a strategy I would have used...” Tech trailed off.

“You’re being too nice.”

“Shall I explain in detail the best plan of action for this hand?”

“Can’t stop you. Just infodump me anyways. Maybe I’ll retain SOMETHING this time.” I LOVE to tease Tech. It was difficult in the beginning. Most of it just went over his head.

This time, he just grinned at my cheekiness and launched into it.

Omega continued to fidget in her seat behind us.

“...and THAT is why you should have held onto those cards until the end.” Tech finally finished his tutorial.

“I... THINK I got all that? My brain hurts now. How ‘bout I switch with Omega.”

“That will be sufficient.” Tech looks up and glances behind me.

Then his face froze.

I quickly swung around to see Omega missing from her seat.

“OMEGA???” I called through the ship.

Nothing.

“Oh SHIT!”

“INDEED!” Tech immediately radioed Hunter that Omega slipped out of the Marauder and is probably enroute to them.

I grabbed my med pack and ran out of the Marauder before he could stop me.

Omega used to sneak away A LOT on our previous missions. Probably one of many reasons why he wanted to keep her back on Pabu until she matured a bit more. Of course, he feels guilty...the Kaminoan’s keeping her locked up in their home world. He didn’t want to clip her wings.

“TOLD YOU to stay on the ship!” Hunter’s voice fills my ear comm.

“I can’t just assume that Omega finds you somehow and is safe.”

“Don’t need ANOTHER person in danger. Go back to the ship.”

“Well...is Omega with you?”

“...no.”

“She SHOULD have been by now...AND I’m NOT going back.”

Hunter’s tired sigh. “Well, then...

He never finished his sentence.

A flash of intense light...

I awoke thirty feet away from where I was standing. On my back.

My head hurts...all I can hear is high pitched whine in both ears.

Sit up dazed and look around at EVERYTHING obliterated and on fire.

Torn remains of whatever was left of the trees and outbuilding I was near...

...two small legs sticking out from under smoldering wreckage.

I lurch up to my feet and limp over. Grab the unidentifiable thing crushing Omega and try to pull it off her.

It’s not budging. I frantically keep trying. There's NOTHING else in this world except me and this huge THING on top of her that I cannot seem to move.

Sweating, my hands are raw, my eyes are wet, there is blood dripping down my face...

Is it lacerated? Could it be my eardrums are ruptured? I don’t know.

I just know I HAVE TO GET THIS THING OFF OF HER!

Push, pull, kick...

Then the wreckage flew off her like it weighed nothing at all.

Wrecker is next to me. He freed Omega and put a hand on my shoulder. Hunter grabs her up. Echo is trying to speak to me.

But I can’t hear anything at all. Just that damned whining in my ears.

I can lip read though...

He’s telling me to get back to the ship.

Echo runs ahead with Hunter.

Crosshair grabs my arm, dragging me along. He looks extremely worried.

Whatever happened or if we even achieved our objective, I don’t know.

Hunter sets Omega down on a bunk. He’s beside himself emotionally.

I can feel the Marauder take off world.

My hearing is still impaired, but the whining is less pronounced.

I gently nudge Hunter aside and open my med kit. Pull out the bacta...but it won’t be enough...

...she needs a tank. Her burns and lacerations are too numerous and severe. Still breathing and regular heartbeat, but unconscious.

I am doing the best I can with what supplies are on hand. Putting her prognosis out of my head for the time being.

We make a pit stop at a Rebel Base on a hidden moon. One with an extensive medical facility.

Echo radioed ahead. As soon as Tech lands, the staff enters the ship and whisks Omega away. Hunter and Wrecker run after them. Echo runs in another direction...I’m assuming to report his intel to the Rebels.

I stand at the bottom of the gangplank and watch them leave.

Tech stares at me strangely.

I shrug...and a horrible twinge of pain erupts from my upper back. My face feels sore too.

Crosshair mumbles something.

“WHAT???” I must be screaming but can’t hear anything.

He mouths “your back” and points.

I try to reach behind me to feel it.

Tech grabs my hand and nods “no”.

They both immediately took me to medbay.

I’m treated for multiple facial lacerations, on top of first-degree burns. Missing some of my eyebrows. And, like I guessed bilaterial ruptured eardrums.

Oh...and the kicker: A 12-inch piece of metal sticking out of my back. Had NO idea it was there.

Adrenaline is a HELL of a hormone.

Tech left to confer with Echo over intel and our next move.

Crosshair stayed with me during the surgical removal of the metal. I demanded to be awake and requested a mirror to watch the whole procedure.

The doctors were horrified but complied with my request.

Crosshair held the mirror. He also asked to keep the metal once removed...to frame and hang up back on Pabu.

“You're NOT like the other kids.” I quip.

“Neither are you.” he winks.

They won’t let me walk out of medbay. It’s the sedatives and painkillers, of course. I wouldn’t let me walk, either.

Crosshair pushes me in a hover chair. We head over to the bacta tanks to check on Omega.

She’s stripped down to a medical binder and med panties. Tubes to feed, breath, and eliminate. Floating in the tank, the extent of her injuries is very apparent: Second degree burns, multiple lacerations, a broken arm, a few broken ribs, and a head injury. Her hair had been clippered off entirely for cleanliness and most of it was charred.

Omega was also put in a medically induced coma to aide her recovery.

Hunter, sitting in a chair, has his arms around the bacta tank. He’s basically hugging it with his forehead resting snugly against the glass.

“I shouldn’t have let her go. Blame myself.” He mumbles.

Wrecker puts a hand on his back for comfort. “She’ll be ok Hunter. They said we got her here in time.”

Then he looks shocked when he sees my face.

“OH MY MAKER! Where are your EYEBROWS?”

Still can’t hear very well, but I can DEFINITELY lip-read Wrecker.

“Look what medical pulled out of him!” Crosshair proudly dangles a clear plastic bag containing the metal shard.

Wrecker is transfixed.

Hunter is devastated. “I MISSED that??? Didn’t even register you were injured...looked right at you...”

Like a man lost and questioning EVERYTHING. His focus had been solely on Omega.

“Aw...they couldn’t kill me. Don’t think I’ll be attracting any ladies with my perpetually surprised look though.” Trying to lighten the mood.

“You can’t hear ANYTHING, can you?” Crosshair looks me in the eye.

“Barely...why?”

“You’re so LOUD.”

“You should talk, Wrecker.” Crosshair sneered.

“That’s how I know!” Wrecker rolled his eyes at his brother.

Hunter looked even more guilty, hanging his head.

“Hey guys...”

Wrecker and Crosshair stopped whinging at each other.

“Can I have some time alone with Hunter?”

They both nodded and wandered off to find Echo and Tech.

I nudge the chair over closer to Hunter and look at Omega through the glass.

She’s so tiny in that big tank. So beat up and bruised. The lighting in the tank leaves NOTHING hidden. Even the old scars from her time on Kamino. The “experiments” according to the Kaminoans. Things they did to her before her brothers took her away.

Things she never really spoke about with even Hunter.

Things I only know about since working so closely at the facility on Kamino. A little girl who needed someone to comfort her. This was before her brothers were ever aware of her presence.

“Her prognosis is very good, yes?” I broke the ice.

“The docs say she’ll have to spend close to the next month in this tank.” Hunter’s voice cracked.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I knew better! Why is it SO HARD for me to say no to her???”

“Because you love her. You know she’s strong. You also know she’s still a child. If it makes you feel better, she snuck out ALL the time on Kamino. The Kaminoan’s would ask me to go look for her constantly.”

“More of an argument to have left her on Pabu.”

“You REALLY want to be at fault, huh?”

“I’m responsible for...”

I cut him off.

“YOU CAN’T CONTROL EVERYTHING, HUNTER!” I winced. Moving too much with my exasperation. The sutures on my back were straining...and wet.

Hunter stood up, glancing at my back. He could smell it.

“Strike through?” I asked.

“Yeah...just a little blood. You need to lie down and rest.”

“That’s gonna be hard. Not supposed to lay on my back...and my face isn’t going to feel great against the pillow. How about I just stay sitting in this chair with you?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I know you don’t want to leave her alone while she’s in this tube.”

"Thank you. Honestly...I should say that more often. Y/N...you've really saved our butts a lot of times...I'm grateful to have you in our squad...family." Hunter cracked a small smile.

"Of course! Man...you are MY PEOPLE!" I beamed back. They really are. I'd go to the ends of the universe for every one of them!!!

Hunter's smile was so warm and genuine. But it lasted very briefly. His face became pensive again.

He was silent for a while...thinking.

“Technically she’s asleep? Is that what a coma is like?” Hunter asked.

“Kind of. The doctors are monitoring ALL her vitals constantly. And if anything is off, they can immediately see to her needs. Besides, the coma is just for the next 24-48 hours due to her head injury.”

“I see.”

“She’ll come through this. You clones were made to withstand a LOT of physical trauma. Stuff that would kill a regular human.” I added.

“It’s not necessarily the physical stuff I’m worried about.” Hunter motions to the faint old scars on Omega’s body. “When she does wake up...she told me she has fears about being in a tube like an experiment.”

“Tell her she has nothing to fear.”

Hunter looks at me strangely.

“People in a coma can still hear. Talk to her, Hunter.”

He nods. Then directs his voice to the speaker on the bacta tube.

I sit back and relax in the chair, watching this man...a brother, a parental figure speak to his child.

He’s doing the best he can with what he has.

We are all doing the best we can...

...hanging on with HOPE.

It’s the only thing holding the galaxy together right now...

PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND REBLOG!

48 notes · View notes

vesuvianhermitcrabs · 18 hours

Text

The Arcana M6 When The Bed Is Covered In Plushies

Asra

The bed has disappeared. Not from magic or anything like that, it's just no longer visible beneath the absolute mound of plushies you own

Oh, how does Asra feel about it?

Who do you think was supplying you with all these stuffed animals?

He thrives in this environment

They immediately crawl beneath all of them and become one with the plushie pile

He makes expectant grabbing motions to lure you into the pile of snugness, where he will trap you for all eternity

Faust also thrives in this environment and often is found squeezing the life out of a plushie

Speaking of Faust, she gets lost in the plushie pile so often you will have to check for her before diving in

Do not dive on top of her

Asra will accidentally kick half of the plushies off the bed in his sleep

Nadia

Her poor heart

The first time she walks in on you sitting in your mound of soft little friends she completely freezes. There's this dewy glittery haze in her eyes that makes you feel as if she's about to keel over

I hope your bed is big enough to accommodate all the plushies you're about to receive

She doesn't care that it's impractical, it makes you happy and that makes her happy

Although if she's being completely honest, this might be healing something for her

Not that she'll tell you that, you'll find out through her having a bit of a snuggle session with your plushies while she thinks you're gone

(DO NOT BRING IT UP SHE WILL GET FLUSTERED AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE HER DOING THAT AGAIN)

If anyone tries to make fun of you she just purchases you more (there's nothing quite like retail therapy, I guess??)

Julian

He doesn't register the plushies on the bed at night, he just crashed there immediately due to working for 4 days straight

In the morning (late afternoon), he notices. He lets out a frightened "GAH!" and asks you where all of them came from (they've been there for a week)

You explain to him why you own so many and he turns away, smiling a little at the sight of them

Julian's started to have some weird behavioral changes since this discovery. He's started to come to bed a little earlier, and when he doesn't, you end up noticing your plushies missing and later finding them on top of his papers or sitting on the dining table

When you leave to go run errands you'll often come home to him clutching one of your plushies (he's pretending he wasn't just snuggling the shit out of one while sobbing into his pant leg out of depression and loneliness)

Portia

Oh. Oh my.

The first time she sees you cuddled up with a soft toy she physically can not handle it. It's just too cute for her

It doesn't help that you're in a big pile of cute soft fluffy things either

She needs an outlet or else she's going to combust, so she ends up punting one of the plushies off the bed and into the hallway (this was followed by a disgruntled yowl)

You look at her in complete owl-eyed shock and she seems to realize what she's done with a surprised laugh

Portia giggles out a series of breathy apologies before going to put the plushie back in the room

Sticks a band aid on the injured one

Bless her soul, she loves you too much for her body to physically be able to handle

One day you came home to a little crocheted Pepi and an apology note from Portia

Muriel

He saw you with a couple on your trip with Morga

In all honesty his first thought was... well. There wasn't really one. It was like you had scrambled, deep fried, and microwaved his brain, all at the same time

When you moved into the hut he wasn't quite expecting you to move in with all of those

He finds it oddly endearing

But... how are you all going to fit on the bed

Genuinely considers going back to sleeping on the ground

After you frantically convince him that this won't be necessary, he huffs a tiny little sigh of relief before you both wonder what to do next

You decide to build a shelf to keep the majority of the stuffies on, while a select few go in the bed with you

Inanna loves them very much and will adore and protect them like her own pups

She loves them so much that she pulls them off the shelf and into bed with you, her, and Muriel, putting you back to square one

Lucio

Complained so much about your bed of plushies that you were considering running off into the woods to never be seen again

Okay well you wouldn't really do that, and seeing as you don't really live in a house your bedroll is covered in plushies

"MC, why are you holding a plushie when you could be holding me?" Becomes a nightly conversation

This problem is mostly solved when you get a plushie of him commissioned

What helps the most is when you buy him some of his own

Cue sniffling and eyeliner stained fluids running down his face

Much like Nadia, you're pretty sure this is actually very healing for him so you indulge him

Sometimes you'll hear him ranting to the plushies with his face all squished into them, which you always stop to listen to. Especially when the conversation turns to you

#the arcana hc #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana m6

28 notes · View notes

nightgoodomens · 1 day

Note

If someone is not famous and in a relationship or married to someone famous. Then they should just go about their lives. Like your spouses fans are not your fans. And your spouses fame is not your fame. So get busy with your own life. It literally doesn't me your life is not interesting and no one will question your relationship.

If these relationships were natural, then that’s what the ladies would be doing. Focusing on their careers, friends, hobbies. Perhaps sometimes post a cute pic with their partner. Not focusing their social media presence entirely on pleasing the fans of the celebrity, ensuring they remember they’re together and invest their time into following their relationships. Like a job. But that’s what these arrangements are for; creating an image, both parties getting something out of them. That’s what beards are for.

That’s how you know these are not natural relationships. Not a single normal partner would be doing what GT and AL are doing. Because normal partners have nothing to prove and nothing to cover. Because normal partners wouldn’t give a flying fuck what fans think. And fans would never follow their relationship in the first place because they wouldn’t have invited them in.

If AL/MS were a natural relationship, you’d see him talking about her with ease - not acting like she doesn’t exist, to the point he even refuses to look at her and speak about her, so every time he underlines there’s nothing between them, she needs to pop in to create stuff to make up for it. After he failed selling their relationship during Assembly and instead focused on DT, she had to go extra on social media desperately shouting about their happiness, PR Disneyland (that both men went to at the same time, to create a happy family image) and lashing out at articles, and talking to fans. It was so over the top you could see what triggered it.

There’s nothing natural about that.

Now he dissed her for the third time in a short space of time, and she’s back on creating stories to “prove” everything is okay. And the same with DT/GT who need to publish their wordle a couple of times a week and have a once a week paparazzi content to ensure fans that everything is ok. There are also many things that are not being spoken about now. And I don’t mean just the “wives” ending abruptly as soon as promo was not needed anymore. People also are quick to forget the nastiness that was cut short, the decrease of paparazzi content, the introduction of wordle… there’s been a lot of re arranging since Cali.

None of that is natural. All of that is PR.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR

41 notes · View notes

sepublic · 3 days

Text

Homesick!

I just gotta say I love the pun of this episode’s title; I thought Homesick would allude to it being about Luz missing home, but it was actually a joke on Hooty being sick!

That said, we DID get what would’ve been our first look at Manny, as well as an early version of Camila lore! Turns out she was going to be a nurse, but in the end I think I like veterinarian better. Still, I remember discussing healing back during S1A as a potential track for Luz because of this, so to see that theme be apparent with both parents was cool!

Manny’s face being shrouded also seems to indicate that the dramatic reveal behind him -the illness- was always planned, at least since the pilots. Luz said he drove an ambulance, past tense, which seems like some dark irony given he probably needed one at one point. Remember how some of us theorized after Reaching Out that the Abomaton alarm reminded Luz of an ambulance siren related to her father? Man… On the plus side! We can guess Camila and Manny met through their professions, so we could try applying that to canon as well! Compassion is such a Noceda trait I love it.

Likewise, I appreciate how these two leaked storyboards have Luz and Eda covering for each other! One sticks their neck out because something means a lot for the other, but the other decides it’s not so important they’d sacrifice the one for it… With this episode, Eda doesn’t want Luz to look like a dunce but Luz is honest and can’t bear to see her mentor be mocked either, and is trying to take responsibility for what she feels is HER mistake too! It’s really sweet seeing Eda inadvertently teach Luz the Healing glyph.

Speaking of, it seems we would’ve gotten individual glyphs for all spells, as the fandom once assumed! I guess the show did glyph combos to explain why Luz doesn’t immediately find everything, as well as create a sort of fun system behind Luz having to mix and match things. And we even got to see what we always wanted; Luz making an ENORMOUS glyph around her enemy! Goes to show my speculation that since glyphs rely on the magic around them, they aren’t physically taxing; Something we see brought up with Eda’s own magic.

Caduceia reminded me of an early Hermonculus, being a teacher who didn’t really care much for the actual students and even seemed to enjoy mocking them! She looks like Raine, so much that I wonder if the design was repurposed for them because it was such a nice one! I dig the play on Caduceus, with Snakeslie as a palisman! Snakeslie looks so much like a worm on a string. Given Luz and Caduceia are both healers, it’s neat they have a snake in common, though Caduceia’s seems to allude to her being a snake (liar); Her palisman’s name is literally Snakeslie. Snakes lie. Glad to see Stringbean with the positive rep!

I also love the gag of King calling himself the King of whatever’s convenient, and it was really cute seeing him want to prove his own worth! Because two witches, it’d be easy to feel like he has nothing to offer, which is part of Sense and Insensivity in canon! There’s parallels between the A and B-plots, with Luz and King feeling ineffectual and their owl friend supporting them, only to be helped as well! Eda and Owlbert are linked and hell so are the demon hunters and Caduceia!

The House Demon lore was neat, even if it was stuff we already figured out with canon; House Demons being like hermit crabs, and also rare! Seeing healing magic be used to make someone sick and even control their mucus/phlegm was disgusting yet fascinating! And I was delighted to see the demon hunters again, they’re underrated side characters imo and we even got a crew nickname for another one of them!

I also like the bit of the moral here; That sometimes, it’s not that a student is bad or isn’t trying, sometimes the teacher is failing them. Maybe some people think this generation is raised too soft and coddled, but I think it’s an important reassurance for a lot of kids who struggle and blame themselves for it; I’ve taken teaching classes before, and we were taught to be vigilant with ourselves as potentially inadequate for students. It’s the onus of the teacher to adapt to a kid’s needs after all, and actually care!!!

What an unexpected delight! I never imagined the crew made storyboards for additional episodes and not just the pilot! This one has no voice alas, but it’s better than nothing and I feel storyboards have such a nice charm to themselves as well! I really thought the pilot would be my last episode review, but I keep getting pleasantly surprised and gifted by this show…!

#the owl house #the owl house pilot #luz noceda #Eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #king clawthorne #the owl house Owlbert #the owl house caduceia #the owl house snakeslie

29 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 2 days

Text

Rock the Boat

fuckboy!Eddie x plus size!fem!reader

summary: you send a risky text asking Eddie to meet you at Lover’s Lake to finally have your way with him and to your surprise, he actually shows up.

Based on a request that I mistakenly deleted

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (f receiving) reader sits on Eddie’s face, grinding, Eddie sucks on reader’s tits, brief mention of body image issues

It started with a text. Why you were sending that kind of message to someone you barely knew, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you had met Eddie a few times when he came into Family Video where you worked and you found yourself to be very attracted to him. He was one of the hottest men you had ever seen and you couldn’t help but fantasize about him.

All you could think about was taking him into the back room at Family Video and having your way with him. Covering each other’s mouths so no one could hear your loud moans. You wanted to hear his pathetic whines as you slowly pulled his pants down to get a good look at his cock, edging him until he was begging to fuck you.

It was to the point where you were thinking about him all the time. Especially when you were trying to go to sleep. All of the things he could do to you taking over your mind until you eventually had to take care of yourself, but it never quite did the trick. You were afraid that the only thing that would have helped was actually having Eddie’s cock inside you and you were sure that would never happen.

And then, suddenly, there was an answer to your prayers. Steve, becoming tired of you not doing anything about your pathetic crush, put an end to your misery and gave you Eddie’s number. He didn’t really know you that well, but you were nice to him and from what he’d seen, he thought that you and Eddie would have been a good match.

You stared at the number for what felt like hours after you had gotten home from your shift. Your thumb hovered over the “message” button so many times, but you couldn’t get yourself to actually do it. What would you have even said? Everything that came to mind just made you feel like an idiot. You didn’t send messages like that, especially not to practical strangers.

You didn’t know Eddie except for the very few, very short conversations you had with him and weren’t even sure if he was into receiving, let alone, responding to sexts. You had heard rumors that he was into pretty much anything, but you didn’t think you were his type. You were bigger than a lot of the girls in Hawkins and even though you were very secure in yourself, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to the others.

You finally got the guts to open up the messaging app and typed out your text, your heart racing as you did so. Why was it so hard? It didn’t even have to be well thought out. Just a few simple words would do the trick. Sure, it was a risk, but you felt like you needed to take more of those in your life.

Sex?

Really? That was the best you could do?

Wanna fuck you so bad

Not terrible, but you could do better.

Meet me at Lover’s Lake at 8:00 if you’re willing to get down and dirty

You thought it was good, but felt like it needed a little more tweaking before you sent it. You went to backspace, but your thumb had a mind of its own and the blue button was pressed, causing the message to be sent before you were ready. You threw your phone onto your bed and began to panic. Your heartbeat was pounding so hard that you swore it was going to leap out of your chest.

After you were done freaking out, you reached for your phone to unsend the message only for that to longer be an option. He was going to see the message and think that you were a freak and never want to speak to you ever again. God, you were really fucked and not in the way that you wanted to be.

Your heart rate picked up when you saw that he was typing and were surprised at his reply. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but at least he was nice about it. That definitely made you feel a lot better about your stupidity.

You know, that sounds really hot, but first you have to tell me who you are.

You quickly typed out your reply, chewing on your thumb nail as you pressed send.

It’s y/n from Family Video

You didn’t receive a reply after that and you took that as rejection, but you still headed out to Lover’s Lake, hoping that he would show up anyway. If he did, you’d be ecstatic, and if he didn’t, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye. You’d have to quit family video and you really liked working there.

You put on a dress that you had just bought and your nicest bra and underwear set, hoping that he would appreciate the effort you had put into your appearance.

You drove to your destination, wishing you had just kept your desires to yourself, but there you were, standing there on the sand, trying to figure out what to do. Someone was kind enough to leave their boat sitting on the sand so you got in it and sat there, your nervousness building as the clock struck eight. You were going to give him at least an hour because no one ever showed up at the exact time that they were expected to.

The boat was very nice and surely expensive so you wondered why it was abandoned on the sand like that. It needed to be safe somewhere where no one would take it. It had what looked like two leather sofas attached to it for seating and the front of the boat where the captain would steer. It wasn’t very big, but it was definitely going to work for what you were going to get up to.

You heard a car door slam close and reached for something to protect yourself with in case it wasn’t Eddie and found a large stick that was right beside the boat and held it out as the stranger approached. Eddie came into view and put his hands up to show that he wasn’t a threat causing you to dropped the stick, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You know, I’m all for hitting in a sexual context, but I feel like that wasn’t your intent,” he chuckled as he put his hands back down by his side.

“I wasn’t sure if it was you or some creep so I was just protecting myself. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up.”

“Yeah, my phone died and I couldn’t find my charger. So, sorry about that.” He pushed the boat into the water then climbed into the boat and sat in the seat across from you, resting his hands on top of his lap, studying you. He immediately wondered what a pretty girl like you was doing asking him to hook up. If he was being honest, he thought you were out of his league. Definitely too pretty for him, but he wasn’t going to question why you asked him there.

He turned on the motor and the two of you moved further out onto the lake and once you got far enough away from the shore, Eddie turned the motor off so the two of you would stay stationary and went to sit across from you again.

“That’s okay. I figured that you were just ghosting me.”

“I mean, I’m not a saint by any means, but I definitely don’t ghost and definitely not pretty girls like you.” He thought you were pretty. Sure, he had told you so when you had been flirting with each other, but you figured that it was just that, flirting.

“Is that so? Well, um, I guess we should, you know.” Hearing his complimentary words were making you even more desperate for him and Eddie was more than happy to comply. He had been thinking and sleeping with you for weeks and was hoping that the text he had gotten has been from you and it actually was.

“I guess so. You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to come.” As much as he hoped he was, Eddie didn’t think he was your type. He was convinced that you liked guys like Steve. The kind of guys who you could meet your parents and make a good impression. The kind that wouldn’t run when things got to real.

“Why?” You didn’t understand why he was surprised. Hadn’t your flirting been obvious? Couldn’t he tell just how desperate you were for him? Well, he definitely would by the end of the night.

“I didn’t think I was your type.” Eddie was the definition of your type. Despite your personality, you liked the kind of guys you were the complete opposite of you in every way. The ones who seemed kind of bad. The ones who could definitely get you into trouble but wouldn’t because they cared so much about you. Eddie seemed scary on the outside, but on the inside, he was a sweet and caring man.

“Why not?” You tilted your head to the side and Eddie thought it was adorable that you looked like a little confused puppy.

“Thought you liked pretty boys like Steve.” The words almost came out bitter, but that wasn’t his intention. It always seemed like he always lost to Steve. Steve always got the girls, leaving Eddie with nothing but rejection because he was mean and scary and evil.

“I don’t like Steve and you are a pretty boy.”

“I am?”

“Of course you are, handsome. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you just how handsome I think you are?” You patted the seat next to you and without a word, he came and sat next to you, his thigh touching yours because of your close proximity.

You reached up and slowly pushed some of his hair behind one of his ears then rested your hand against his jaw, pulling his face close to yours. Your lips slotted between his and they moved together slowly as you both got used to the foreign feeling of each other’s lips.

His were soft and gentle as his hands moved to your waist, moving to your back and making a home there. He licked into your mouth and you let him inside, taking exactly what he wanted from you as his tongue swirled around yours. You let out a whine and he almost moaned at the sound. It was so hot hearing that sound from you. It was even better than he had imagined.

Eddie’s hands moved up your dress slowly, his cool rings feeling good against your warm thighs. He got to your waist and he felt a lacy string that indicated that you were wearing a thong. Oh, he definitely had to see that. He push your dress up to your hips and looked down, getting a good look at the red thong you were wearing and his cock twitched as he thought about was what underneath it. He needed to see your pussy right then.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he said as he broke away to catch his breath. “Need your cunt, bad.”

“Wanna know the way I taste?”

“God, please.” Your cunt was a sopping wet mess when you heard him whine like that. It was doing so much to you and you desperately needed him to take care of it before you did it yourself.

“Can I sit on your face?” Eddie was convinced that you were actually trying to kill him. If you kept suggesting things like that, there was no way he’d make it home alive.

“Oh, I’d love for you to sit on my face. Need to taste you so bad.” You had never done anything like that, especially because your weight was a concern, but this time, you didn’t care. You were convinced that Eddie could take it.

“Wanna see it first?” You asked. “Wanna show you how wet I am for you.” You pulled down your thong and handed it to him so it could keep it to remember the night.

“God, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he groaned and you just put on a devilish smirk.

“Or maybe I do,” you winked before pulling him in for another kiss before pushed him off of you. You rested your hands on your knees and spread your legs wide, giving him a full view of your sopping wet cunt. He felt drool forming in his mouth as he thought about the way you’d taste, burying his tongue inside of you, making you moan his name over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Damn, sugar,” he whistled. “How long have you been holding this in? Seems like you need me real bad, but don’t worry, I’m more than happy to lick you clean.” He knew exactly what to say to make you crazy. To make you more wet than ever before and you were filled with more desire than you knew what to do with.

“Please,” you whimpered and Eddie pressed a kiss to your lips before he laid down on the bench. You slowly situated yourself on his face, spreading your legs and leaning forward so that your knees were pressed against the bench on either side of his head, holding onto the railing of the boat.

You let out a gasp as Eddie’s nose brushed your cunt and he pushed you further back a bit so he had a full view of you, wanting to see how you came undone as he licked and sucked your cunt. He was quick to lick a stripe from your slit to your clit and you let out a loud moan, white knuckling the railing as he began to suck on the spot.

You leaned your head back, feeling absolute pleasure course through you and Eddie swore he was going to cream his pants seeing you like that. That was going to live in his head absolutely rent free and he would need to take care of himself as he laid in his bed, not able to sleep because of his need for you.

“So fucking good, Eddie,” you moaned, grinding against his face and he let out his own moan at the feeling. He was lapping up every last bit of your slick and he couldn’t get enough of the taste of your cunt. He loved feeling the weight of you on top of him and seeing you go dumb at the feeling of his tongue and lips, so close to reaching your first orgasm of the night.

His hands moved up to your ass, digging his fingers deep into it as he licked and sucked on your leaking cunt, wanting to taste over single part of it.

“Gonna cum on my face sweetheart? Seems like you’re pretty close.” His voice was muffled, but he was speaking loud enough to where you could hear every word and he was right. He shoved his tongue inside your pussy and swirled it around, causing your back to arched in pleasure and Eddie felt cum leaking from his dick as he watched you come undone as his tongue licked back and forth, feeling your slick leak out onto his tongue as you finally reached your orgasm, your hands becoming sweaty against the railing as you tried your best to hold onto it but weren’t sure how long you could last.

“Oh,” you moaned loudly as your body went limp as you came down from your climax and Eddie moved his hand up to your hips, trying his best to prevent you from falling backwards. “Need your cock, Eddie. Want you inside me so bad.” You had just cum and already wanted him to fuck you? Didn’t you at least need a break first?

Eddie helped you climb off of his face and help you in his arms as he attached his lips to yours. He licked into your mouth once again and grabbed onto the bottom of your dress, pulling it up over your head and tossing it to the floor. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, removing his shirt as he did so, his lips still moving against yours as he did so. He laid your body gently on top of his, your legs tangling together.

Your hands moved to his hair as his slowly went up your back to your bra, slowly unhooking it to give you plenty of time to stop him if you didn’t want him to take it off. Once it was unhooked, he slid it out from between your bodies and threw it to the side.

You pulled away to catch your breath and leaned up so you could unbuckle Eddie’s belt and he took the opportunity to look at your tits, watching them move as you did so. And just when he didn’t think you could get any more hot. He leaned up and pressed open mouthed kisses to your chest as you unbuttoned his pants then helped you, the two of you working as a team to remove them. He then took off his boxers, causing his dick to spring free and it was even bigger than you imagined. It was covered in cum and you desperately wanted to clean it up with your mouth, but you wanted more to have him inside you.

He quickly put on a condom and you pushed him back down to the floor, situation yourself onto his dick, sounds of pleasure escaping both of your mouths as you did so. You rolled your hips towards him and started to ride him, watching his mouth fall open as he watched your tits bounce up and down as you moved. He swore that he had never seen anything that hot in his life.

“Look so good on top of me,” he managed to get out through labored breaths. “Love seeing your tits bounce.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, a flirty tone taking over your voice. “How about this then?” You moved faster, causing your tits to bounced even more and Eddie could feel himself cum inside the condom as he let out the most desperate moan.

“God, yes, fuck,” he whined and that did something to you. You leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to Eddie’s lips before moving a little higher so your tits were hanging right in his face.

“Know you wanna suck on them,” you said and Eddie felt drool collect in his mouth as he thought about sucking on your nipples, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth. “Go ahead.” You moved left and right, causing them to swing right above his face.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled out and rolled over so he was on top and pounded his dick into you before leaning down and pressing soft kisses to your chest which juxtaposed the way his dick was thrusting in and out of you.

He moved his way down to your left tit and gave it a bruising suck as best he could as he kept pounding into you. The whole thing was overstimulating for you both, but he couldn’t take it. He needed to have his mouth on your tits right then or he was going to explode. He continued to pump in and out of you, watching your tits move as he did so, his eyes glazing over with lust.

“Eddie,” you whined. “Need your mouth on my tits.”

“Believe me, I wanna suck on them so bad, but can’t exactly do that and fuck you at the same time.” He tried, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

“Fuck me first then.”

“That I can do.” He leaned down and gave your lips another kiss before grabbing onto your hips and pounding into you. He thrusted in and out of you and you closed your eyes as your back arched once again. He lowered himself down onto you and buried his face into your neck as he moaned, his cock moving faster and harder as you both reached your orgasms as the same time, your moans mixing together with your labored breaths.

Eddie pulled out of you then lowered himself down onto you, his lips meeting your chest, peppering it with kisses. They then met the very spot he had sucked on before and he sucked on it as hard as he could his ears being met with more of your beautiful moans.

“Nipple, Eddie,” you whimpered and he obliged, bringing the sensitive thing into his mouth, giving it a rough suck before swiping his tongue over it. “So good.”

“I know, babe,” he said, pulling away, eliciting a whine from you. “Let it out.” He pulled the thing between his teeth and gave it a pull and you practically screamed in pleasure. He gave it another lick then tugged on it again, causing you to make that exact sound. Three orgasms in one night, that had to be a record out of all of his previous partners.

He moved over to the other one and didn’t waste time before taking it between his teeth, desperate times hear the sound again. He bit down a little harder and that seemed to unleash something in you.

“Eddie,” you moaned. “Oh my god. So fucking good.” He gave your nipple one last bit before diffusing through sting with his tongue. He then took the whole thing into his mouth and gave it a hard suck as he swirled his tongue around, causing you to come completely undone, your body laying flat against the floor as you came down from your final orgasm of the night.

Eddie pulled you in for another kiss and disposed of the condone before helping you get dressed, being nothing but complimentary as he did so. That definitely satisfied your craving, but you already found yourself wanting more of him. How were you ever going to have another partner when he had been the best you ever had?

Eddie was thinking the same. He was trying to figure out how to ask you out on a date. There was no way he was going to let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers. And even if you didn’t want to go out with him, he was at least going to make sure that he found his way into your bed. As hot as fucking in a boat that didn’t belong to either of you was, it wasn’t very comfortable.

You both got back onto the sand in a timely manner and put the boat exactly where you found it before heading out to the parking lot hand in hand. You led him to your car and pulled him in for a filthy kiss before pulling away.

“Don’t be a stranger, Munson.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t,” he replied. You gave him another kiss before opening your car door and getting into the driver’s seat. You then cranked the car rolled down the window before turning to him.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked. “You can come over after I get off work.”

“It’s a date,” he winked and you turned on your radio that was blasting a metal song that made Eddie fall for you even more. You pulled out of your parking space and rolled out of the lot, Eddie standing there, watching you leave, feeling his dick twitch as he thought about all of the things he was going to do to your tomorrow. Oh, he was so down bad. And the thing was, he didn’t even care.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #fuckboy!eddie #fuckboy!eddie x reader #fuckboy!eddie x you #fuckboy!eddie x plus size!reader #plus size!reader

32 notes · View notes

ihavemanyhusbands · 2 days

Text

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART THREE: THE HERO ALWAYS GETS THE GIRL

Also on AO3

Part One // Part Two // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 5.9k words

Chapter Summary: It was always meant to end up this way, wasn't it? Some things never changed.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, canon typical violence, reader kidnapped by raiders, the ghoul being the ghoul, cursing, some injuries (very mild whump), mentions of death/loss, heavyyyy angst (happy ending tho!), only a little Spanish dialogue, love confession, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (fem receiving), irradiated creampie (with RadAway after lol), aaaaand that's all I can think of but please lmk if I missed anything!

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

In the Past….

You had been restless all day, unable to explain why. Something just didn’t feel right, and not knowing what it was made you feel even worse.

Your house had felt large and empty as you paced around it, smoking. All those long hours, you were acutely aware of the clock’s ticking — Time relentlessly marching on, waiting for no one.

Once you’d actually gone to bed, you’d tossed and turned long into the night. The moon shone faintly through a gap between the curtains, barely illuminating your bedroom. You could not face the yawning void of solitude you found at that hour, so you got up.

Things had gotten much trickier in a short amount of time. There had been many more bomb drills, more fear and paranoia, and substantially fewer job opportunities.

Cooper was no longer acting. He simply wouldn’t get cast anymore, so he had to look in other directions. The loss was tremendous, for yourself and the industry. Moviemaking didn’t quite feel the same anymore, its luster having faded.

You saw him much less, but you still tried to keep in touch. You’d even helped him care for Janey a few times when he had to take an odd gig that would run late. Slowly, he was becoming a shell of the man he formerly was, and you felt helpless to stop it.

But that night, you couldn’t hold yourself back, leaving your house in just a coat and your night dress, like a ghostly apparition. The drive there was nebulous, like you were moving on autopilot. You drifted up the steps and pressed the buzzer to his apartment a few times.

When he came down to see who was at the door, he looked a little worse for wear, like he’d been having a hard time sleeping, too. He ushered you inside, not wanting you to be out in the cold.

“What happened?” Cooper said, worriedly searching you for any sign of injury. “It’s the middle of the night, why didn’t you telephone?”

“I’m so sorry, Coop,” you said, as if waking up from a trance. “Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, leading you to the old, rickety elevator and pressing the button to his floor.

“No, I was up. Lucky you didn’t wake Janey, though. She’s with me this weekend.”

You covered your face with your hands, ashamed. “Oh God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, worrying even more at your clear distress. He guided you to his unit, which was smaller than you’d imagined. It’d been a while since Cooper and Barb’s sudden divorce, but he barely seemed to be settling in. The walls were mostly bare, and the sparse furniture seemed to have been included with the unit. There were only a few pictures, mostly of him and Janey, but a few of just his daughter.

He had never really told you what happened, but the change had seemingly occurred overnight. He simply said he was done, that he couldn’t even look at her anymore. You were still pretty baffled about the whole thing, but it wasn’t your business to pry about. You simply supported him however you could.

Barb had not gone easy on him, having the best lawyers Vault-Tec could afford. He had Janey some weekends, but he didn’t get to see her nearly enough. It was a bad situation altogether, and you were sad for everyone involved.

“Cozy,” was all you could whisper after a moment of silence, to which he snorted derisively.

You went to sit on the couch, arms around yourself. The two of you kept your voices soft so as not to wake Janey, and you felt a pang in your chest knowing she was near. She was such a bright ray of sunshine, and you were glad that she and Cooper had each other despite everything.

And especially on a night like that one, when the world seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of something.

“Drink?” He offered, already pouring himself a glass of scotch in the small kitchen.

You nodded, sniffling, trying to keep the tears that threatened to crawl up your throat at bay. He shuffled back over to you, a frown still on his face.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He encouraged, handing you the glass and sitting next to you on the couch.

How could you possibly explain the feeling of grief you had, when you hadn’t really lost anyone?

Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know, I just… I had to see you,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “I didn’t even think about it, I just got in the car and drove.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet,” he chuckled, the sound a little awkward. “But it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No, Coop, I can’t even explain it. If I tried, I’m sure you’d think I’m crazy.”

“Try me,” he said. “You know you can trust me.”

You set your glass down and scanned his features for a moment, committing them to memory. Then, without a word, you leaned in and brought your lips to his chastely.

You had kissed dozens of times in the past, but for the first time, it was as yourselves. Love was the only thing you could give him then. Years worth of it had accumulated inside of you, with nowhere to go… until that moment.

But your heart was breaking at the same time. Instinctively, you realized this would be your only opportunity to do so. Tears swam in your vision, but you turned your face away before he could see the one that escaped.

Cooper blinked, too stunned to react. You sniffled, pulling back, hands wringing anxiously. He shook his head, snapping out of it.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, hands cupping your face. “I ain’t that bad of a kisser, am I?”

You let out a sad little chuckle, which sounded more like a sob.

I love you, you wanted to say. I love you, I love you, te amo con todo mi corazón*. Please find a way to live, whatever happens.

(*I love you with all my heart)

“Please, take care of yourself,” you pleaded softly instead. “Give little Janey a kiss from me.”

And with that, you got up from the couch and left him like a thief in the night. He’d called for you, but you’d been faster, running down the stairs and heading back to your car. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore. The waiting, the fretting, feeling so fucking helpless… Wouldn’t it be better just to get it all over with?

The rest of the night blurred into a gouache rendition of melancholy and self pity. In the morning, as soon as you were able, you phoned Bud Askins — the Vault-Tec executive who had organized your admission into Vault thirty one — to ask for an expedited entry.

And just as he picked up the phone, you looked out the window and saw the enormous, fiery mushroom cloud rising as if from the depths of hell itself.

——————————————

The Present….

“There she is,” one of the raiders pointed at the old TV screen, where one of your movies was playing. “No wonder she looked so goddamn familiar. Got ourselves a movie star, boys.”

“Gotta be a clone or somethin’, no way she’s lived this long,” another one said.

“What does it matter? Whoever buys her won’t be able to tell the difference. Fresh meat’s hard to come by, and this is the luxury kind,” the first one gruffed, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You could only glare at him from your spot against the wall. You were gagged, your ankles and wrists bound by old rope. Two days had passed, in which the raiders hadn’t done much other than tie you up and haul you around. You’d gotten a few scraps of food, but not nearly enough to even be considered a snack. Thirst and hunger clung to your very bones, but you were lucky that your survival instincts had kept you going so far.

You might not have been a fighter before, but now you were determined to keep yourself alive at all costs. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that things were truly ruthless in the wasteland, and it all basically narrowed down to kill or be killed.

You weren’t sure yet if you’d be able to go through with something like that, but you had no other choice but to try if it came down to it.

You were still holding out hope that the ghoul would come find you, but you were well aware that you couldn’t just rely on that possibility. You were running low on time, unsure of how long exactly the potential transaction would take to complete. Or if they would grow tired of searching for buyers and try to possess you themselves.

You would not let it get to that, though. You were just trying to devise the least recklessly foolish escape plan possible.

The raiders had holed up in an old supermarket, which seemed to be their usual base. Most of the empty, broken shelves had been pushed against the walls to make space for whatever furniture they had managed to find. A few shelves surrounded the space like a makeshift barrier, shielding the rest of the building from view.

Rations, old clothes and other miscellaneous objects were scattered about carelessly, but you didn’t notice many weapons, which was potentially a good sign. More valuable loot was stashed in empty freezers, and you were frankly surprised they hadn’t tried to shove you in one, too.

The raiders went back to watching the movie, your own voice sounding strange and faraway to your ears. And then… you heard Cooper’s voice, that southern drawl bringing your attention to the screen. It was the scene of his Feo, Fuerte y Formal speech, when his enemy was at his feet.

Though the screen was riddled with static, you could still see the determined look on his face. Hearing his voice again gave you strength, but it also gave you pause. Why did it feel like it hadn’t been that long since you’d last heard it?

You thought back to the day you’d been abducted, still unsure if you had hallucinated the ghoul screaming your name. Even his voice had sounded different there, but not unfamiliar – more like a dream that had slowly devolved into a nightmare.

There was a nagging feeling at the back of your head that wouldn’t let you rest until you had some answers, but it would all have to wait for a later time.

For the next hour or so, you slowly moved your wrists back and forth in an attempt to loosen the ropes. You went still whenever any of them looked at you – like a deer in headlights, sweat trickling down your spine – but luckily, none of them seemed aware of your actions.

At some point, you had to fully stop as most of them prepared to go out scavenging, leaving only one man behind to guard you.

“Shouldn’t give you much trouble, but you know what to do if she does,” the leader had said, looking right at you with a shit-eating grin.

But the raider left in charge hadn’t seemed too worried about you being a threat, falling asleep on one of the couches soon after they had left. When your wrists were rubbed raw and bloody by the rope, you soldiered through the pain until adrenaline kicked in, and you managed to loosen the knots enough to free one of your hands.

You swallowed down the nausea that crawled up your throat at the sight of your mangled skin. Keeping one eye on the sleeping raider, you began to attempt untying your ankles, but then you heard a crash at the front of the building. The raider woke up with a start and you had a millisecond to hide your hands behind your back once more.

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered, looking around frenziedly.

You shrugged helplessly, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he stood, grabbing a weapon. You whimpered, momentarily fearing he might use it to prod you further, but he stayed put.

“You better not try any stupid shit, alright?” He said, pointing it at you in warning.

You nodded quickly and he crept around a shelf, disappearing from view. It was eerily silent after that, except for your blood thundering in your ears. You waited for him to return, unmoving, for what seemed like an eternity.

There were a few more sounds somewhere out front, but you couldn’t quite discern what they were. Still, you didn’t really want to wait around and find out. Who knew if you’d get another opportunity like this?

But just as you decided to push your luck and reached for your ankles, you heard footsteps. And with those footsteps, there was the familiar, faint clinking of spurs that you had come to know.

The ghoul suddenly rounded the corner, holding the raider’s bloodied machete, which matched the blood spattering his clothes. Talk about a guardian angel, you thought, somehow finding humor to keep yourself from absolute hysteria – even as your eyes welled with overwhelmed tears. A muffled sound escaped your throat, but there was still tape covering your mouth, so all you could do was widen your eyes.

“There y’are,” he said with what seemed to be a relieved grin, but it was short-lived. “Oughta kill you myself for makin’ me go through all that trouble to find you…”

He crouched in front of you to free you from your binds, tossing the weapon aside. You gasped as he ripped the tape from your face, momentarily glaring at him for his lack of gentleness. But your own relief outweighed any frustration you felt, and without thinking you threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

He froze, feeling the jackrabbit pace of your heart against his chest. The breathed-out thank you in his ear almost gave him goosebumps, but he kept himself composed. You yourself couldn’t believe that you were so elated to see him, having been terrified of him only a week prior.

But now it didn’t seem to matter, because even if he groused about having to do the work, he had still come to find you.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, shoving you back. “Get up, we gotta get outta here before the rest of ‘em come back.”

He hauled you onto your feet, steadying you when you almost stumbled into him. You glanced at the TV, where the movie had been paused on a close-up shot of Cooper.

You hesitated, suddenly transfixed by an emotion that was getting close to realization. The ghoul followed your line of sight and grimaced, averting his gaze.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” You said, the words spilling before you’d even thought them through. “How ironically familiar it all is, in a fucked up way.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When you looked over at him, something ill-concealed in his expression confirmed things without him having to say anything.

His eyes hadn’t changed… how did you not see it before?

You took a step closer and that seemed to snap him out of it.

“No idea what you’re goin on’ about,” he gruffed, turning away. “Now get movin’ or I’ll tie you to my belt and herd you like cattle. Andale!”

You pursed your lips at his stubbornness but trailed after him. You watched his back, hunting for more details to further reassure yourself you weren’t crazy — His posture, the way he walked, his strong shoulders squared proudly, as if in preparation for whatever came.

There was still so much to say, but first, you had to get as far away from this serpent’s nest as possible.

On the way, he found an old tire iron, tested its heft, and then handed it to you. At least, it seemed less daunting than a knife or a machete, and arguably less bloody. The world might be a cruel place, but he would try to help minimize the blow as much as he could. In his own way, of course.

He pushed out of the secret entrance at the side of the building, and you almost slammed into his back as he abruptly stopped.

“Well, fancy seeing you here boys,” he said before you could even ask what was wrong, and a stone seemed to drop into your stomach. “Jus’ came to collect what’s rightfully mine. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Like hell you are,” came the barked reply.

You peered around him and saw only a handful of the raiders, the leader nowhere in sight. Somehow, that made you relax a little, the odds slightly more favorable. Not that you didn’t believe the ghoul could handle the whole group, but you just didn’t want to take your chances.

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?” The ghoul drew his revolver before anyone else could react, firing a shot directly at the raider’s head. “Whoops, I guess it ain’t gonna be him, after all.”

A stunned moment passed before the raiders were all launching themselves at him. You pressed back against the wall, watching how the ghoul moved with a swift, deadly grace. Two were down before they even knew what was happening.

You moved from your spot to try to find some cover in case any stray bullets flew by you. Crouching by some rusted oil barrels, you kept your eyes on the action, listening to the ghoul laughing at a failed attack.

Then you noticed movement elsewhere. While he was facing off another three of them, a raider that had broken off from the rest was slowly inching closer behind the ghoul’s back.

Yelling out a warning would probably hinder more than help him, so you took a deep, fortifying breath and crept behind the raider. You tried to keep control of your breathing as you got closer, taking deliberate steps. You adjusted your grip on your weapon a few times, your palms sweating like never before.

But just as you closed the distance between you and raised the tire iron over your head, one of the other raiders yelled Watch out!

Still, you swung, striking him right across the temple with a sickening crack. He crumpled, knocked out cold, and everything moved quickly after that.

In all the distraction, the ghoul dove forward and sank his knife into the nearest raider’s stomach. Then he turned them both around, using him as a shield before he shot the other two raiders.

Once they were all on the ground, he looked at you over his shoulder and grinned.

“Well, well, look at you watchin’ my back for me,” he said, seemingly impressed. “Doesn’t make us quite even, but getting closer.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but your mouth suddenly filled with saliva, and you had to keep yourself from throwing up. All of the day’s events were starting to catch up to you, and adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long.

“Can we just uh… please?” You said, gesturing into the distance vaguely. “If I don’t eat something soon, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He sighed, jerking his head to one side in a motion for you to follow. “Better hope there’s still rations in your pack, then, ‘cus I ain’t a free meal ticket.”

———————————————-

You slept for what felt like days, waking up disoriented to find the afternoon sun high in the sky. You rolled onto your back, wiping away the drool that had trickled out of the corner of your mouth. You were sure you looked just as terrible as you felt, but it was the least of your worries at that moment.

The abandoned parking structure you’d camped out at was cool and shaded, the wind blowing through it. It’d been dark by the time the two of you had found it, and you could only remember wolfing down some food before promptly passing out.

Your wrists had been bandaged at some point, a small courtesy from the ghoul. Proof once again that he cared, despite his tough, biting exterior. The warmth you felt in your chest reminded you of what was still pending between you, and how it could wait no longer.

You sat up and looked around, gathering your bearings. He wasn’t too far away, standing at the other end of the lot with his back to you. He was looking off into the distance, lost in thought.

You watched him for a moment, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, your thoughts were running parallel.

Only one way to find out.

You got up, wincing at the deep ache in your muscles. You started to shamble over to him, but you only reached halfway before you were no longer brave enough to get any closer.

“Cooper,” you called, voice tremulous. “… It is you, isn’t it?”

The ghoul turned around slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a moment, for once seemingly afraid to meet your gaze.

“Still stubborn as a mule, aren’t’cha?” he said, trying to mask the nostalgia in his voice with wry humor.

You let out an amused huff. “Always drove the producers crazy.”

“Well, it wasn’t just them.”

Finally, he looked up at you, his gaze much softer than they’d been the past few days. At that moment – despite the ravages of time, radiation, and even misery – you could still see the Cooper you had always known. And while you were elated by the revelation, your heart also hurt to think he had undergone so much by himself, losing who he was in the process.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, knowing it was likely a selfish question. “From the beginning?”

“I never… thought you would see me like this,” he said, swallowing hard. “After that night, when the bombs were dropped, I didn’t know what happened to you. I just assumed you were…”

“Dead,” you finished for him. “I thought the same about you.”

Silence hung heavily for a moment, and you weren’t sure if you should move or not.

“What about your family?” You asked, bracing for the worst.

“Lost,” he said simply, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I got Janey to one of the vault’s on time, but there was no space left for me.”

His pain was palpable, making your heart shatter anew. But how to take it away from him? It was impossible to just erase all that had happened, but you could at least help him shoulder the burden.

“Cooper…” you breathed, finally closing the remaining distance between you.

He shifted uncomfortably, angling his head away. You reached up to gently cup his face, making him look at you.

“A face not even a mother could love, ain’t it?” He murmured, braced for whatever reaction you’d have to him now.

He expected disgust and rejection, but that was far from what you felt then – A yearning so deep you feared it would fully consume you. The world had fucking ended already, so why not confess how you felt? Nothing worse could happen if you did.

“My feelings for you have remained intact for more than two hundred years, Cooper. You really think this is going to change my mind?”

He blinked in surprise, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you were lying. You merely smiled, open and earnest, letting him digest your words.

“That night, when you kissed me… My mind was all over the place. I didn’t know what to think, what to say, but you ran away before I could even try.” He chuckled weakly at the memory. “Somehow, I felt it was a long time comin’, but a part of me never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry it was all I could give you then,” you whispered, and he placed a hand over one of yours. “If only we had known…”

“Say the words for me, will you?” He rasped, face inching closer to yours. “I won’t believe it until you say it.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Cooper Howard. I loved you before, and I love you now, just as you are.”

“You sure about that?” He said, but his resolve was crumbling. “Not much room for love in places like this, especially with folks like me.”

“We’ll just have to make room for it then.”

He raised his hairless eyebrows, both pleased and amused at your conviction.“Just like that, hmm?”

One of his arms snaked around your waist slowly, pressing you closer to him. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, desirous. The fire he saw in them ignited him as well — A long lost feeling that was returning to the surface with a vengeance.

“Bésame,” you sighed, mere seconds before his lips were melding against yours.

You kissed with an almost frantic desperation, tightly clinging onto each other. It was the kind of kiss you had always dreamt of — devouring and insatiable, eager to fuse together.

His hands were curious but hesitant, roaming up to your ribcage and down to your hips, but no further. You grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your chest, not only as permission, but also so he could feel how your heart pounded for him.

His own longing overflowed, clouding his senses. A part of him had still been unwilling to believe you could actually love — much less tolerate — what he had become. But when you moaned softly into his mouth, he knew he was a lost cause.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very good with words that weren’t scripted. But fortunately for you, there were other ways he could demonstrate his devotion.

You arched into his touch as he palmed one of your breasts, a low sound in his throat. He moved to kiss your neck, lavishing your collarbone with his tongue. He wanted to kiss you all over, but he would need to get you bare first.

You let him tug your blouse over your head, his gloves subsequently coming off. His hands were calloused as they returned to touch your skin. The tips of his fingers teased the waistband of your pants, and he smirked as you frowned up at him.

“What? I wanna enjoy every moment of this,” he drawled, eyes dipping lower to watch your chest heave. “So many times I tried to imagine how I would do this. Sometimes I would unwrap you like a present… Others, well, let’s jus’ say I was like a coyote getting ahold of a chicken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the morbid description, strangely not put off by it. “How romantic. I’m still trying to decide how I’ll take yours off.”

He shifted, something like panic flashing in his eyes for the briefest second. “Hold your horses, sweetheart. I ain’t done with you yet.”

You understood his hesitance immediately, deciding not to push it for the time being. You had years of patience under your belt, and his trust was something you did not mind earning again. He removed only his duster, draping it on the floor.

He undid your belt and knelt in front of you as you wiggled your hips to help him take your pants off. There was a puff of warm breath against your navel a second before he planted a kiss on it. You shuddered as his teeth snagged the hem of your panties, pulling them down.

There was a noticeable wet spot on the fabric, which made him groan. His cock was straining against his pants already, but he wanted to focus on you first.

“Come here, you,” he rasped, grasping your hips and bringing you down with him.

As soon as you were on your back, his mouth was on you again. He’d wanted to feast his eyes first, to take you in in your full glory, but he found he couldn’t keep himself detached from you for too long.

He kept his promise, slowly working his way around. You surrendered to his adoration with ease, every caress and every kiss awakening every part of you. At some point, you reached a level of sensitivity that had you whimpering at the slightest touch. The light sting of his teeth on your nipples sent electricity straight to your core.

He lost himself in your smell and your warmth and your softness – a supplicant finally worshiping at his sacred temple. When his mouth finally sealed over your clit, your back arched off the floor, taut as a bow.

“Cooper,” you gasped, delirious with lust. “Please, I-I need… Let me touch you, something, please!”

He shushed you gently, arms wrapping around your legs. “Just lie back and let me take care of you, darlin’.”

You wished you could say you lasted some time under his ministrations, but you came with embarrassing ease. That first orgasm hit you like an avalanche, sweeping throughout your whole body. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you cried out, not wanting to be too loud and potentially attract unwanted attention.

He let out a faint chuckle, lapping up your release with gusto and nearly making you come a second time. He found he especially liked teasing your clit with quick little flicks of his tongue, your moans higher pitched. You tried squirming away from him, nearing overstimulation.

“You’re killing me, Coop!” You couldn’t help but giggle hysterically, pushing at his head. “Por favor!”

He pulled back, grinning roguishly as he licked his glistening lips. “What can I say? Seems I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then take me already,” you pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He needed no further convincing. He unhooked his arms from your legs and his body slid upwards until your faces were level. He was quick to undo his pants and push them down, bending down to kiss you as he took his cock in one hand, stroking it.

You brought your knees up to his sides as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, leaning his forehead against yours so he could see your reactions. Brows furrowed, mouth slack, cheeks flushed – you were the prettiest picture, in his eyes.

“That’s it,” he exhaled as he buried himself to the hilt. “Takin’ me so good, like you were made just for me.”

“You’ve a-already made it clear th-that I’m yours,” you said with a teasing little smile that you could barely hold as he started to move.

He remembered his words to the raiders, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I did say somethin’ like that, didn’t I? Guess it must be true, then.”

His strokes were long and slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you. His eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in your features and reassuring himself that it was not a dream. He knew he wouldn’t last too long either, for all he teased you about it.

He started going faster, the snap of his hips harsher, as you begged for it. Pleasure was overtaking him, wiping his mind clear of everything that wasn’t the present moment. Your name left his lips like a prayer, his eyes heavy lidded and glazed over with ecstasy.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned. “I-I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

You clung to him, afraid that if your heart went any faster, it might stop altogether. Soon enough, he felt you tightly squeezing around him, and he knew you were close once again. He was right there with you, driven by your pleasure, and then you pulled him in for a kiss.

He felt you tremble under him as you came, the intensity not letting you make more than a small, choked sound. With a long, rough groan and a deep thrust, he spilled inside of you. Lost in a feverish oblivion, having forgotten when the last time he’d experienced it was… if at all. No drop was wasted, in the end.

During the comedown, you lay there panting, his added weight on top of you comforting. You looked at each other and laughed, elated at the whole thing. It felt like no time had passed at all, somehow.

“Tryin’ to steal my soul already,” he said, a fondness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. “Hold on, I need to get some RadAway in ya.”

Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and got to his knees. He tucked himself away and reached for his pack. He pulled out a yellow IV bag, which you recognized from Bud’s few lessons about the wasteland. You hadn’t even thought about it until then, but you were immensely grateful he had been prepared.

He hooked you onto it delicately and slumped back down beside you, lying sideways. You grinned, snuggling closer to him. His fingers traced lazy circles on your belly as he looked down at you, adoring.

The real world slowly crept into the edges of your mind, anxiety at being separated from him suddenly spiking. Now that you had him, there was no way you would just let him go.

“I don’t know what I should do now,” you confessed, voice low. “I know I want you, and I want to be with you, but what about New Vegas? Do you think they’d send someone to look for me?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. It’s very possible, you never know. You’re more valuable than you realize, and I ain’t just sayin’ that ‘cus I’m biased.”

You snorted, shoving him playfully, but he continued. “But… I think I should still take you there. My sort of lifestyle in the wasteland ain’t for you, darlin’. I almost lost you once already, very stupidly.”

“That was my fault, though,” you said, pained at the guilt in his voice for not being able to protect you.

“Everybody makes mistakes. You could make a hundred more, but one of ‘em might just cost you everythin’. I ain’t takin’ those chances.”

“Well, you’re certainly more forgiving now…” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But then what? You’re not just gonna drop me off at twenty one for safe keeping, are you? I would kill you.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But it won’t come to that, we ain’t stayin’ in the vault.”

“Oh? We aren’t?”

“There’s a few settlements out there that are safe and, uh, friendly to my kind.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to bring much attention to his current state of being. You took his hand, squeezing his fingers, and he returned the gesture.

One day, you would make sure he would never doubt his worth ever again. You admired his strength and perseverance, soldiering through an unforgiving environment, continuing to live. He was certainly different from the hero that he always played in the movies, but he was a hero nonetheless. In your eyes, at least.

“Well, well… That’s all it took to bring you to your knees, huh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “You really thinking of settling down?”

“Oh, I ain’t retirin’, sweetheart,” he said with a huff. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m thinking of going steady with you, well…”

The two of you shared a knowing look, smiling at that echo from the past. At that moment, you felt that things might just be okay after all. You had been through worse things, jumped through bigger hurdles, and yet you had still arrived there. Who was to say you couldn’t handle more?

“Kiss me then, and let’s seal the deal.”

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

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #minors dni #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x latina!reader #the ghoul x latina!reader

41 notes · View notes

humbledragon669 · 2 days

Text

S1E2 – The Book Write Up P2 – 11 years ago and The Present Day/Thursday (2 days to the end of the World) (up to Aziraphale and Crowleys’ arrival in Tadfield)

Alright, let’s get dug straight in, shall we? There’s a lot of background narrative being covered in this section, including the introduction of quite a few new characters.

Let’s start with Anathema. I don’t have a lot to say about her intro scene, but I do have two questions:

Why THE HELL is her mother allowing her to draw in that book? It’s the only copy of a 350-year-old book that contains prophecies that have all proven to be correct. In reality that book would genuinely be priceless, and we will see later in the series that the book is still considered valuable to the family. I don’t like writing notes in my cheap paperback books, so the idea of a child drawing IN COLOURED PENCIL in this book chills me to the bone, yet her mother just lets her do it without so much as a blink of an eye. Mad woman.

We know that the book contains prophecies up until the end of the world. We also know that at least one of the prophecies contains an actual year (1980 – the one with the Apple). Furthermore, we know that Anathema is named specifically in one of the prophecies. Just how many Anathemas did this family have in the hopes that one of them would be the one to save the world? Logically, only children born after 1980 would be eligible but that still leaves at least one generation of descendants prior to the one we see in the show. I suppose there could be another prophecy that states what year “the” Anathema was to be born but I like to believe that somewhere there’s a little group of related women called Anathema all fighting over who gets to save the world.

Next up – Newton. Again, not an awful lot to say here, other than the camera crashing into his bedroom window makes me laugh every time I watch it. I don’t know why this specific moment was chosen to break the fourth wall just as much as I don’t know why I find it so funny.

Having worked in IT for more than ten years, I can say without a doubt that there really are people like poor Newt who are cursed with breaking anything computer-related just by looking at it. They’re exasperating because they usually think the whole thing is one big joke and hold their technology incompatibility up to be some sort of prize. At least Newt has the decency to look abashed by his strange “gift”.

Newton’s home location is confirmed to be Dorking in his first present day scene when we see his mother shipping him off to a new job. We don’t know the location of the United Worldwide Holdings (Holdings) office in which he attempts to establish a hold as a wages clerk, but I can say for certainty that the location of his introduction to Shadwell is central London. For those whose UK geography is worse than my own, it would take over an hour to get to central London from Dorking, regardless of the transport mode of choice. This has always struck me as rather odd – it’s clear that Newt has difficulty holding down a job. The home that he apparently shares with his mother looks pretty run down from the outside, suggesting that money isn’t exactly a commodity in their household. So why would you take a clerical job, that likely doesn’t pay much, in a place that’s over an hour away? Perhaps Neil and Terry just chose Dorking as Newt’s hometown because it has a slightly funny sounding name…

Side note: the chances that the Hot Dog van that Newt and Shadwell get their drinks from would be allowed to park there, right behind the Houses of Parliament and directly in front of Westminster Abbey, are null. I would even go so far as to suggest that Shadwell himself would likely be moved on pretty sharpish from his chosen pulpit. Makes a pretty impressive backdrop though, hey?

Let’s just take a moment to have a chortle at Shadwell’s ideas of what sort of activity would give the game away for any self-respecting witch:

Speaking as the last in the line of Welsh “wise women”, I can (pretty much categorically state) that none of my ancestors have done any of those things. Maybe apart from calling the cats funny names, though most of my maternal line had/have a strong dislike for animals of the feline variety. My cat is called Kishi, which is supposed to be Japanese for “love bound to Earth”. It’s a wholly inappropriate name for her, as she’s really just a massive prick, like every other cat there is.

Why does Newt stop to listen to Shadwell here? Why not just ignore the crazy man on the pedestal like every other person in London? Obviously that would cause a bit of a plot problem. Perhaps it’s his ancestral right driving him into the arms of the Witchfinder Army – there are certainly crazier things that happen in the GO universe! As it turns out, Newt’s recruitment is well-timed, what with there not being any soldiers of rank higher than sergeant, and only one of those at that.

Easter egg time!

This ridiculously quick shot of Shadwell’s newspaper gives us a veritable treasure trove of Easter eggs/nuggets of information for the keen eye:

Shadwell’s address is confirmed as located in Crouch End.

The reference numbers for the adverts begin with the letters “GO”.

There is an advert for a lost book, which we can just make out is one of Terry’s – “Colour of Magic”.

Save the best for last! The advert for a lost hat clearly describes Terry himself, and his signature hat and scarf. Not only that, but he apparently lost it in a book shop in Soho. I wonder which one that could be…

This fleeting glimpse of newspaper is a perfect representation for one of the main reasons I love this show so much. Most casual audience members will never see it. Some more interested parties will see it and think little of it. Others, like myself and likely anybody reading this waffle, will not only see it, but understand the references and then squeal with delight at the little present that was left for us to find. It makes me feel valued as a fan whilst at the same time as if I’m sharing in a secret that the creative team has left for me. This is great television making at its very best.

Quick Easter egg here in Jasmine Cottage: the image that Anathema has pinned on the wall to represent the Antichrist is the same as the one used on the playing cards from episode 1 (albeit in black and white):

When we find ourselves back with Crowley in his apartment, he’s clearly furious with himself about losing the Antichrist. We also learn that he discovered the joys of tending to houseplants in the early 1970s. I’d like to think he inserted them into his life after the event that takes place in 1967 between himself and Aziraphale (which we will see in the next episode) – perhaps he was looking for something that he could try to use as some sort of poor substitute for his true desires? The presence of the houseplants and the timeline for his discovering of them is included in the book, so in honesty I doubt this was the intention for their purpose, but I like the possibility nonetheless. The scene with the houseplants provides a little nugget of information that we can store for reference for later – Crowley’s houseplants actually shake when they’re frightened.

Once again, I don’t have much to say about the next scene: that of Newt’s arrival to the Witchfinder Army’s HQ. I will pause briefly to note the wording of the notice on Shadwell’s door:

This calls to mind the phrase used by Aziraphale to refer to Crowly in episode 1. I’m not sure there’s anything in this as “foul fiend” has often been used to refer to demonic or evil beings. That said, it’s difficult not to try and make some connection, given that the two uses of the phrase are so close together in the show. We will later find out that Shadwell is working for both Aziraphale and Crowley for the same purpose, so defying the “foul fiend” in this case becomes somewhat impossible.

Quick pause for a moment of appreciation for that strut that David pulls off in this next scene. Honestly, there are professional supermodels that couldn’t manage that sort of casual arrogance, even if somebody told them they could stay thin and eat whatever they wanted for the rest of their lives.

This is the first time we find out that Crowly has adopted a first name for himself. I’ll talk about it a little more in the write up(s) for episode 3, so for now this is another piece of information for us to store for later.

I quite enjoy just how awkward Aziraphale sounds leaving a message on the answerphone. Dealing with the unannounced arrival of two angels in his book shop he can handle, but having to leave a message instead of speaking to Crowley direct? Perish the thought. This seems to me a quite human attitude to have – when answerphones started to become commonplace, people (on the whole) hated leaving messages once they realised the person they wanted to speak to wasn’t going to pick up. What I find interesting about the conversation that they do have is that Aziraphale’s suggestion is actually incredibly obvious. In fact, it’s about the only possible scenario that would make any sense. Crowley’s disbelieving expression would suggest he doesn’t feel the same way:

Still, at least this conversation tells the audience that this pair haven’t given up on working together to try and stop Armageddon just yet (it would be a pretty short and disappointing show if they had, wouldn’t it?!).

At this point in the episode, we are introduced to Crowley’s driving style which could be described as suicidal dangerous. He seems pretty confident with it though, so it’s unlikely this is out of the ordinary for him, urgency of their mission notwithstanding. Aziraphale doesn’t actually seem that bothered by it initially, not until we hear the horns of other angry drivers, where it becomes apparent that he’s actually very uncomfortable indeed. We’ll see a fair amount of material on the theme of Crowley’s driving and its effects on Aziraphale in this episode, almost like we’re being set up for something…

Crowley is pretty insistent on the use of “we” in this scene, despite the fact that Aziraphale really didn’t have anything to do with losing the Antichrist (he just took Crowley’s lead on this one). The angel doesn’t really dispute it though, though perhaps he’s just too worried about being discorporated to argue. What is pretty obvious is that Crowley does not appreciate being told how to drive, and it makes me wonder how many times they have had conversations exactly like this before.

I’m going to wrap this part up with a quick round-up of the “The Them” scenes in Tadfield, prior to the arrival Aziraphale and Crowley in the village. As with much of the other narrative-based scenes in this episode, I don’t have much to say about them, but I did make note of a couple of (potentially) interesting things:

Pepper’s middle name is Galadriel. For those people who have managed to live their lives without any sort of interaction with Lord of the Rings up to now, this is the name of an Elven queen in that universe. As much as it would be cool for there to be some sort of subtextual Clue hidden in her middle name, I think it’s more likely it was just picked because it was a fitting one for the daughter of a reformed hippy.

Anathema recites parts of an infamous speech from Shakespeare’s Macbeth here: Eye of newt and […] tongue of dog. What I find interesting about this is that there are two ingredients in the potion recipe that have been omitted (a frog’s toe and the wool of a bat), leaving only the two elements that can be found in the show – a Newt and a dog. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of this, not least because I’m not even sure what relevance the rhyme has to what she’s doing at the time she recites it. Not to mention that she hasn’t actually met Newt at this point, so would have no knowledge of his name (to the best of our knowledge, he’s only referred to as “man” or “boy” in Agnes’s prophecies).

Wensleydale brings up the Spanish Inquisition when in the woods, which we know Crowley has claimed responsibility for (to his Hellish masters). I absolutely love the way that the religious reasoning for punishing people is so masterfully undermined by Brian’s earnest reasoning here. I should point out that in addition to being a hereditary Pagan, I am staunchly against organised religion (not faith; I consider that to be an entirely different concept and feel that it’s integral to the spiritual identity for pretty much everybody. I believe we should all have the right to follow our chosen faith without the overbearing interference of organised religion) so the satiric tones that people who were being executed would have been grateful for their persecution if they had understood the reasons behind it fully really strikes a chord with the religion-cynic in me.

There’s an interesting little set detail here in the Them’s den:

These look like old-school weighing scales to me. In the context of the conversation that the Them are having about torturing witches, these could be said to be a reference to the practice of weighing people accused of witchcraft against the weight of a bible to determine their guilt. Alternatively, it could be a reference to the scales we will see later in the series as the summoning object for Famine. Or it could be nothing. I doubt that last one though.

That brings us quite nicely to see Aziraphale and Crowley arriving in Tadfield, which feels to me like a good place to finish this part of the write up. I’m going to be tackling a couple of important moments in the next part (can we say “wall slam”?), which I’m aware have been discussed at length already, but I have things to say and I’m going to say them. They’ve probably all been said before, but they need to get out of my head and into a piece of writing so I’m going to say them anyway. Questions, comments and discussion on this part welcome as always!

#good omens #good omens season 1 #episode analysis #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #anathema device #newton pulsifer #sergeant shadwell #easter eggs #crowley #aziraphale #crowley's houseplants #crowley's driving #the them #good omens pepper #good omens brian #good omens wensleydale #tadfield

21 notes · View notes

rhys-is-smol · 2 days

Text

Thunderstorm Bad

CG! Alastor & Little! Reader

A/N: It was storming last night so I wrote this to cope. I'm thinking of expanding on this and making my own AU of sorts (inspired by the great @/nottapossum!)

The acid rain pelted on the windows, drowning out the quiet radio playing on the windowsill. You were supposed to be asleep ages ago, but once the heavy rain started, sleep became impossible. Especially when a flash of light startled you, followed by the loud sound of thunder, shaking the ground.

You hid your head in your pillow, hoping it would help. It didn't. Every time you heard a burst of thunder, your anxiety doubled. Eventually you were shaking, close to tears, under every blanket and pillow you could find.

But the storm wasn't going away. If anything, it was getting worse. You couldn't stifle your sobs anymore. Poking you head out of the pile, you let out hiccuping cries, hoping maybe someone would hear you and come help.

The radio on the windowsill crackled, followed by a growing shadowy figure on the wall. Alastor's shadow, which led to Alastor himself walking out of the shadows.

He wasn't wearing his coat, just his button up with rolled up sleeves and his waistcoat. Reading glasses were preached on his nose. Your crying quieted only a little as he adjusted his waistcoat.

"Now, now, what seems to be problem, my dear?" Alastor's smile grew gentle as he came to sit on the edge of your bed.

Sniffling, you crawled a little more out of your pile. "'s da t'under. An da ligh'ning. Don' like."

"Ah, I see." Alastor nodded slowly. "Well, they are just natural phenomena, little one. You're safe inside."

Your face furrowed together. He didn't get it! "Don' like," you repeated. The frustration was starting to bring on a new wave of tears. "Don' like!"

"Why don't you like it, dearest? I can't help if you don't tell me why."

"Don' like!" You tried again, hiccuping back sob.

Alastor opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, there was a loud flash and the loud bang of thunder shook the entire hotel.

Clamping your hands over your ears, you nestled back into your cocoon, crying into the blankets.

Alastor made a small noise of understanding. You didn't dare peak out of your blankets until Alastor lifted half the pile, and you, closer to him.

"Hush now, it will be alright. I know it's scary. I understand." Alastor gently moved some hair out of your face, cleaning up your face with a hanky he summoned. "Would you like me to see if Angel will let you sleep in his bed tonight?"

You shook your head, nestling into Alastor. Alastor was warm. He'd protect you from the scary lights and noises, you were sure of it. Alastor could protect you from anything.

He pressed his lips together. "What about Lucifer? I'm sure he'd love to see you."

No. You shook your head again. Luci was nice and all, but he was on the other end of the hotel. And you didn't want to wake him up. Luci didn't like being woken up.

"You protec' me," you stated firmly. A large yawn broke its way out of your mouth. "Stay."

Sighing deeply, Alastor picked you up effortlessly. You leaned into him, allowing him to teleport the both of you back to his room.

The half room, half bayou was dimly illuminated by fireflies and candles, the fire in the hearth cracking quietly. It was immensely quieter in here, causing you to relax as soon as you both fully reappeared.

With a snap of his fingers, a bed appeared on the wall opposite the fireplace. It was a toddler bed big enough for you, a red, partly-translucent canopy covering the entire bed. It looked comfy, with tons of pillows and blankets and stuffies.

You yawned again, rubbing your eyes. You were really tired now from all that crying. Silently, Alastor walked over and gently placed you in the bed, adjusting the pillows and blankets so he could tuck you in securely.

"Now, sleep well, my child," Alastor told you softly. He closed the canopy, but it was okay because you could still see him through it.

Murmuring a goodnight, you rolled over and were asleep before Alastor had a chance to crack open his book again.

#agere #agere blog #sfw agere #age regression #age dreaming #agedre #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel agedre #agere fanfic #fandom agere #cg!alastor #little!reader

21 notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 14 hours

Text

Stonecatcher - Chapter Five: Washing Machine Heart

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Series Playlist Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk

Series summary: You’re an arms dealer living on Dantooine when you cross paths with an up-and-coming bounty hunter. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?

Series warnings: instant smut but slow burn romantically, angst, use of Mando’a words/phrases, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: You have a dream that inspires you to question the nature of your relationship with Mando. It blows up in your face. Word count: 2.2k

Chapter warnings: fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, desperation, arguing

This is getting out of hand. Mando comes to purchase things and pound the living daylights out of you every single week now. It’s been four weeks of this.

It may be out of hand but that doesn’t mean you’re secretly not enjoying it. He’s cleaning you out of so much of your stock that Kham is going to Coruscant for supply runs twice a week if he can manage; one for Mando, the other for your general customers.

And speaking of Kham, he’s a little suspicious of Mando.

“What’s this guy’s deal anyway?” he asked one time.

“He’s a bounty hunter,” you shrugged.

He fell silent for a moment.

“What?” you teased, “You got a bounty on your head?”

“No! That’s not it.”

“Well, then what is it?”

“Where did you say he was from again?”

“I think he said Nevarro.”

“And he comes all the way here? Why couldn’t he go to Coruscant himself?”

“He said my prices were fair when I asked,” you shrugged again.

“Hm.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Just… be careful with him.”

You haven’t stopped thinking about that interaction. But in the same breath, you try to ignore what it could mean. Sheva’s a lot more direct than Kham is. Every time you see her (which isn’t that often lately) she brings it up. You sound like an addict when you answer her; “I can stop seeing him whenever I want.”

Yet you never have the strength to put your foot down.

You’re checking your inventory, looking at how much of it has depleted last week; and then a sudden thought crosses your mind.

Does he need all this stuff? Or is he buying off this stuff as a cover? As a way to mask his true feelings?

The thought makes you giddy. The fact that he’s too much of a typical man to tell you his feelings. But then it also makes you angry that he’s such a typical man.

Maybe he does have feelings for you. Maybe this isn’t as one-sided as you thought.

Tonight your dream is so vivid. It’s almost too real. And it will certainly hurt when you wake up and realize this isn’t the way things are.

In your dream, you’re doing something that makes you feel like a real couple. No, it’s not kissing. Or even having sex.

It’s holding one another in bed.

You’re lying on his chest, check pressed against the cool metal breastplate. His gloved hand is rubbing your back. He’s whispering something, though you can’t understand what. You can only assume it’s in Mando’a. You close your eyes and feel at peace for once.

You drift off to sleep in the dream, waking up with him still there.

Now you’re in a field. It’s the end of the rainy season and the grass is tinged lavender. He takes off his helmet and for some reason, your brain can’t register what his face looks like, maybe because you’ve never seen it before. Maybe out of respect for his creed.

Either way, your heart is soaring.

But it hurts when you wake up. He felt so real rubbing your back. He felt so real sleeping in bed next to you. He felt so real whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He felt so real telling you that he loves you, all in his native tongue. It makes you ache for a life that isn’t yours… yet.

But maybe you have the power to make it yours.

Regardless, you pull yourself out of bed and get started with your day.

Sometime in the early evening, Mando shows up. It’s like clockwork. Kham knows to go home when Mando arrives. While you’ve fallen into the routine of waiting for him in your bedroom while he combs through your stock.

But this time you hang back in the kitchen. You hear him below you in the basement, metal clanking loudly as he rifles through all of your various blasters.

You make yourself a mug of hot tea, leaning over your kitchen sink, and staring out the window into the backyard. The rolling hills and blades of grass swaying in the wind calm you down, easing you into the mindset that you’re going to do the unthinkable today.

A few weeks ago you asked what ruusaan meant. He never told you. And since then you haven’t been able to work up the courage to ask again. But today is different. You’re going to ask him what that word means and you’re going to ask him about the nature of your relationship.

His footsteps enter the kitchen. He’s done with his shopping. You hear him take a few steps closer to you and ask, “No bedroom today?”

“Not today,” you sigh.

He grabs your waist, rutting his hips into your ass. You feel the growing bulge in his flight suit, cock straining against the fabric. Your core gets wet with excitement. He tosses his glove on the counter and pulls your panties to the side. You catch a glimpse of him in the dim reflection in the window, him towering over you, stoic visor looking directly at you.

He plays with your wetness, spreading it around before plunging a finger inside you. Your breath hitches in your throat, standing on your tiptoes and keeping yourself upright. Your elbows rest by either corner of the sink. Your whole body shudders, all from his singular finger. Maker, it’s like magic how fast he can reduce you to a shivering mess, at the mercy of his touch, hanging on every rare word he says.

He adds a second finger, curling both of them against your g-spot. As he builds up your pleasure your orgasm becomes imminent. But so is the voice in your head screaming incessantly.

Love me.

Love me!!!

Maker, you feel so helpless and desperate, all while he’s playing with your body and making you squirm. White noise erupts in your ears and stars swirl around in your vision. Your orgasm washes over you, knees buckling underneath you, thankful for the counter holding you up.

He pulls his fingers from you and the next part happens so fast. His hands grip your waist and his cock splits you open. He ruts his hips into you, so hard and rough that you fear your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the sink and his strength holding you up.

You close your eyes, picturing the dream you had last night, just how loving he was. You imagine him doing something not too far off from what he’s doing now– making love to you, touching you tenderly, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy to him.

Without realizing it your second orgasm rips through you, the head of his cock buried deep inside you. You had no idea your orgasm was approaching, too busy in la la land. He cums inside you, painting your insides with his release. He holds you still against him, a guttural moan slipping out from under the helmet.

But when he finally finishes spilling his load inside you, he pulls out. You turn and slump into a kitchen chair, staring up at the ceiling and catching your breath. Wetness leaks out of you and runs down your leg; a mixture of your combined orgasms, a product of the act you just shared.

A thought crosses your mind… ask him before he leaves.

“Mando?”

“What?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“What did that word mean? You never told me.”

He sighs like he knows you’re not going to let this go, like he knows can’t keep pushing this off.

“It’s Mando’a for reliable one,” he says, putting his cock away.

Oh.

“Reliable one?”

“Mhm.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“You’re there when I need you,” he says, standing with his hands on his hips.

A warm feeling swells inside you. He just said he needs you. Your relationship has to transcend a business partnership at this point.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Okay.”

“What… are we?”

“You’re my supplier,” he says quickly.

“That’s it? You don’t see us as anything more?”

“You do?” he says, helmet turning towards you.

You look away, unable to face him head-on as you question what your relationship is.

“You have been stopping by more frequently.”

“To buy things. What do you think I’m coming to you for?”

“There’s no other reason for it?”

“Don’t tell me you think this is something more than it is,” he says coldly.

The audacity of him. The irony of it all. Putting his cock away after sharing an intimate moment and sharing what your nickname means only for him to tell you there’s nothing there. That there’s nothing between you two. That you’re nothing more than a business partnership.

Except you know that’s not true.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me,” he says coldly.

“I-”

“You don’t even know my name.” That time he sounds borderline angry.

He turns on his heel and leaves, cape flickering with a swish. You hear him grab his purchases, throwing credits down on the table in the front room, and then he’s gone. It isn’t until you’re alone that you break down. Tears roll down your cheeks and fall onto your lap.

That just… can’t be true. His words don’t match his actions. You’re starting to feel crazy like you’re grasping at straws and seeing something that isn’t there.

You need advice and you know exactly who to go to. Sulee’s still up at this hour. And Sheva will just scold you for not following her advice.

Even though it’s looking like she might’ve been right this whole time…

Whatever, you’re not going to her, you’re going to Sulee.

You pull yourself together, drying your tears and smoothing down your skirt. You use the refresher before you go, stepping out onto the street at sunset.

Sulee’s light is still on so you let yourself inside. She’s sitting by her faithful wood stove, stirring a pot like she always is. You tried to make it look like you weren’t crying but one look at you tells her otherwise.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, concern laced in her voice.

“I… need advice.”

“Of course,” she says, gesturing to a stool beside her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You sit beside her and sigh, your shoulders slumping as your skin burns up in front of the stove. For once, you’re grateful for the heat as it dries your tears before they spill over onto your cheeks.

“I’ve been seeing someone…”

“I know,” she says simply.

“You know?”

“Word travels fast around here,” she shrugs.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

She’s always understanding, always patient with you.

“He’s a customer… But he’s always been more than just a customer.”

“I see.”

“I’ve seen him on a supply run to Coruscant. We spent the night together but he left early in the morning, only leaving a note… He always does that when I fall asleep.”

She says nothing, letting you continue.

“And he’s so… reluctant to any form of affection. Yet he has a nickname for me… But when I ask what we are he tells me we’re nothing, that I don’t know who he is, that I’m… nothing more than his supplier.”

She stays silent again for a moment, thinking about everything you’ve said until he comes back with, “I’m going to say something and you probably aren’t going to like it.”

“Okay.”

“I think you should cut him loose.”

“Oh…”

“As a customer, too.”

“I can’t do that… He’s more than half of my sales.”

“I get it… But think about it. Please. I hate seeing you like this.”

It’s hard for you to accept that she might be right. Even if you keep him as just a customer, it’ll be hard seeing him and not letting him inside you. But now that you’ve had your advice, you need to mull it over. You need to be alone.

“I’ll think about it,” you fake smile, rising from your seat.

“I’m always here if you need me,” she reminds you as you walk to the door.

“I know,” you smile again, stepping out into the nighttime air. Tears roll down your cheeks again. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, getting ready to walk home.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot someone coming towards you. Maybe it’s Mando, coming to apologize for hurting your feelings. But once you turn and face the person you realize it’s not him. It’s a local, but a rather new one. Someone who moved here during the influx of tourists this season.

“Hey,” he slurs. He sounds drunk.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, taking a step back.

“Do you do that with all your customers?”

“Pardon?”

“You know…” he says, thrusting his hips. “With the Mandalorian.”

You scoff and turn on your heel, power-walking home.

“Maybe I’ll stop by and buy something one of these days,” he laughs. “Do you take payments in the form of pipe?”

You look over your shoulder and snap, “Don't let me ever catch you in my store.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m just joking, lady.”

You roll your eyes and hurry home. The tears aren’t stopping anytime soon.

The only thing that weighs heavy on your mind is… What is Mando doing to you?

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @clawdee @schnarfer @djarins-cyare @chiyo13 @burntheedges @pamakinz @littlegrungegirlaf @freelancearsonist @survivingandenduring @pedrostories

#stonecatcher #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #star wars fanfiction

31 notes · View notes