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poppysunderthestars · 2 months

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➷ heartless ➷

"tryna find the one that can fix me"

⟡ fuckboy!ani and fem!reader

⟡ warning: slight sexual concepts, kissing, +18 content, degradation, sexual tension. (if i'm missing any, please let me know!) minors do not interact!

⟡ summary; fuckboy jedi ani loves going all in with the female padawans. yet the only one who does not fall into his claws is the girl with a secret life and that drives him insane. will he have his ways with you?

⟡ word count; 1,8k

author's notice: happy late birthday dear hayden! you will have to forgive me, i'm very rusty, it's been a while since i wrote like this. what do you all think for a part 2 with way more smutty content? let me know your opinions! (english is not my first language, if you find any details, lmk)

‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

'the hot jedi from tatooine'

that's what everyone called him, including you.

yes, while anakin was a very special padawan, you were even a better one. he had slept with almost all the female padawans available in the temple yet you seemed to be the only one not falling for his troubling reputation, and charming smirk when someone says a quick remark about his abilities or his silky and soft brunette mane.

since his hormones began revolting and his hands couldn´t keep to himself, all he thought about from dusk 'till dawn, was fucking.

he spent most of his hours, daydreaming about which next little innocent padawan to corrupt. what position he would put them in, how slow or fast he would pump them. he could cum and stain his black pants from just thinking how slutty they were all for him. all putting their asses up just for him to go feral on their small cunts.

he enchanted everyone, but you. you could not seem to understand how incredible everyone thought he was. he was nothing but a heartless stupid fuckboy jerk . 'he is not even that smart' you thought.

however you could not exclude the biggest and most important fact of all, he was h o t. and not 'one-night stand' hot. but ‘i want him to make me some babies' hot.

no matter how hard you tried to resist him, your private time in your chambers always ended up with you breathlessly murmuring his name and enveloping your digits with your fluids wishing it was him caressing your insides.

it was normal to feel this way, you hated him but at the same time you desired him. he always ignored you and the only time he even looked at you was when he wanted some nighty company. you could never lower yourself to him, cause he would never treat you right.

right?

well, it depends on what you mean with right. cause lately you've been craving a nice and pleasing time with someone and you did find yourself wetting your panties to his thought.

you were one exemplary padawan to the rest, always paying attention to your master, leaving to your room early, never hostile or worse, a whore.

that´s what people reasoned about you, the perfect padawan. you used to be that, always getting up early to prepare for training, spending time in the library, being curious but not much to seem nosy, caring, empathetic, and overall nice.

once you finally started to rebel against your origins, you became more confident, experienced, and fun. some nights you secretly left your room and escaped to low coruscant in search of what could be interpreted as a sluty night. you know, a few drinks in an unknown bar, a bit of harmless flirting, and ending the night in a stranger´s apartment getting your brains shaken, once and twice and...

too many times to count.

no one seemed to look past the "teacher´s pet quiet girl" façade, except mr. fuck-it-all also known as fellow anakin skywalker. master obi wan kenobi´s padawan.

he just knew you were too good to be true. you had to have a secret that you guard with your life or something. he couldn't wrap his head on why he viewed you as interesting, you were pretty, yes. and you were smart, decisive, and down-to-earth. still, he just deducted it was because you´re mysterious, know how to put a person in their place, and keep your inner thoughts to yourself, something he somehow found fascinating.

before, he had tried to use the force to read your thoughts ( he was very powerful he could manipulate most people to do so), the only thing is that he could not. you were not that easily undermined.

you were very strong-minded and even more powerful than skywalker himself, he just did not realize that. however, you did know he tried to subdue you several times with no success. you were the last trophy on his "fuck" collection and he desired you like you desired him, or even worse.

he was determined to have you either way, he was going to have you. he was so cocky thinking he could effortlessly make you fall into his trap.

it was a very nice day, to say the least, your master had congratulated you for the improvement in your fighting skills. you also received a letter from one of your night men asking to see you again, which grew your ego.

nothing was stopping you today

until there was...

again, mr. anakin skywalker. it was not the first time you had sensed his impetuous sexual need, you felt it whenever you were close to him. it was a very present sensation. your mind just knew he was desperate and tensed for release. still, you did not understand why he wanted you, when he could have had any other woman.

'why?' you questioned.

it was sincerely driving you insane. it was like he purposely tried to make you desire him in hopes of you letting get fucked by him. it was a very complicated situation for you. you wanted him but you did not want to seem influenced by the sexual need of him inside of you.

that night you schemed your plan you were going to dominate him like he had never been before. you were going to have him under your spell. he was not going to be able to resist one more day after you let him taste you and devour you as he should.

you spent most of the night visualizing the penetration that was going to take place. the flavor of his skin against your mouth and the roughness of his hand stroking your thighs with such excitement. in between those thoughts, you fucked yourself several times with him on your mind.

it all came down to the decisive moment the next day, you arrived to his persona chilling in the garden and you sat beside him.

“now, i knew you would come,” he said confidently, grinning against his hand to hide the fact he was ecstatic about your presence. it was finally coming through

“such a cheeky man, are you not?” you responded when you noticed he could not stop smiling. “you never rose interest in me, you always looked mediocre to me ”

he didn’t feel compelled into your game, it was like a tug of war, and the last one to give in was going to look weak. he was putting up with your sassy introduction and you were putting with his jerkily overbold personality. the feeling you could not outrun was finally here.

while you wished for his death right then, you also desired his tongue on your wet pussy ready to take all of him.

“i would say, on the contrary, you look like one touch from me would send you to heaven”

did he just say that? what an arrogant dude.

“what makes you so sure about that?”

“the word is out that you are such a slut” he dropped it, it was such an irreverent comment. he was not sure if it was true, however, he did not give a fuck about his reputation, and whatever it took he was going to figure out what the hell was your little secret.

you pierced his eyes with your own, perceiving his lips licking themselves and looking up and down at you. like analyzing the effect he had on you.

“well, i heard something else” you took your finger to your lip in a naive look, and you spoke softly and slowly giving you the rest of the power and making him doubt his previous wording. “you are not better than i am, that’s what’s up”.

he did not care at all, he knew he was no better than anyone else. yet he was losing his mind over that little interaction between the two of you.

“i never said i was, you just assumed i was. whoever told you otherwise is looking for trouble” it was a play of words, so much tension in that little bench. your bodies became closer with each phrase dropped in the air. it was so dirty how your breaths were almost mixed up, how he was resisting throwing himself at you. you could not stop looking at his fleshy and almost lubricated lips. you were close enough to explode right there.

“then i am one for deep trouble” you responded still not taking your sight from his breathless mouth, too close to be sane and too far from a full kiss. some parts of your lips were touching his by now, yet it was nowhere close to what you both were wanting.

“oh, yeah you are, whore”

you found yourself in a trance by just a few millimeters and a deprecating ruse. it was intoxicating his presence by his short and gasping breathing.

“you would never care to think miss perfect here likes being treated like the sluttiest thing around here, right?” while he spoke, you rose your eyes to his, nonetheless you found him admiring your facial elements in the warm afternoon illumination.

“could you look more ruined than this?” you lowly spoke with a peal of mocking soft laughter, splashing all over your face.

“tryna find the one that can fix me" understanding that no miracle was happening there, he gradually tried to separate from you. the slow-motion effect made an evident effect on you, or well your panties. you were a full ocean down there, you felt the humid ambient growing with each progressing moment. you’d had enough

“think that could be you?”

without the right amount of time to think fully through, you went right to it and connected your lips to his. tugging his hair to enclose the remaining space between you.

he was so proud he did not fall first, and that showed when the kiss was complemented by a shameless smirk that decorated his chiseled visage.

the little obstinate man was not letting his emotions show and you sensed that. he cut the kiss observing closely your iris filling with a black tint. felt like a rush you’d never felt before, not even back in low coruscant. never felt like that before.

he confidently stepped up and bent over to your ear, humming delicately causing a tickling sensation like just a few minutes before.

“you could never fix me, even if you tried” he spoke. breaking your burning daze.

just like if he had not felt a single thing, he left the room hiding his frenzy. he wanted to go deeper on you, go harder and faster. you did not deserve it. you were such a tease.

leaving you all alone while you were all ready to take his hard throbbing dick, what a heartless man…

#anakin skywalker #aotc #rots #attack of the clones #hayden christensen #haydenchristensensmut #smut #star wars #star wars smut #hayden christensen x reader #fem reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #revenge of the sith #anakin x you #prequel trilogy

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gohannygo · 2 months

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Emerie lore speculation post?!! :O

Okay guys this is my little gift to myself for finishing my school work on time. Also like low key regardless if you agree or not, drop your Emerie predictions/thoughts in the comments— because for whatever reason my brain has attached itself to her, but she has like 5 mins of screen time and vary little discourse surrounding her :D

Okay guys I’m get real with you, I don’t think Emerie was created as an enhanced clone, or with some kind of special ability. I think she was made to be as plain and reg-like as possible.

Based on Nala Se’s reaction to Omega’s blood being sampled and tested, we can assume she knew and maybe even was responsible for Omegas ability to support an M-count. What I think happened was, Nala se was like “Oh oops it appears I have gotten emotionally attached to this child so I’m keeping her as my own, but I dont wanting any snoopers out there to trying to figure out whats so special about her,” so she created Emerie as a decoy of sorts. Essentially a female version of a reg to send out to the world to prove that theres no reason for anyone to inquire about Omega because look how regular female clones are. Like in a super heartbreaking way, my theory is that Emerie was essentially made to have no identity. To be an obedient little placeholder to take attention away from Omega’s existence.

Wow thats cool but why does it matter?

OKAY so throughout the premiere we saw that maybe there was some trouble in Tantiss paradise for Emerie. Shes been content(?) with complying and doing what is asked of her up until this point, but we saw her be willing to break rules for Omega’s sake, and we also saw how shaken she looked when Hemlock was like “Return to the lab, Dr. Karr”. She also looked like she was really pondering things at the end of episode three when she discovered Omega’s ability to support an M count transfer.

I think maybe during the rest of the season we’ll see her start to grapple with what she really wants to do here, as (I believe, in her own little way), she now has a sister she cares about and wants to protect. I think Omega, through her doll making and Batcher taming, has shown Emerie a little bit of light. That clones can have their own wants, and makes choices based off of them. But really, I don’t think a person who has presumably grown up being conditioned to follow rules and see herself as property would be able to quickly break out of that rigid structure shes used to and make a personal choice to try and keep Omega safe in a significant way.

What? Okay please just bear with me. Wording things is not my forte.

I think Nala Se will see an opportunity to further get in the head of an already torn Emerie. I think she might reveal her original purpose of essentially being made to protect omega. And emerie, who already sort of sees herself as a tool to being used for some greater purpose, will then feel almost like shes been given “permission” to disobey. Sort of like “Oh damn, not only is this something I want to do, but more importantly it was the purpose I was designed for yassssss”. I think she will continue acting as normal but will basically be a shooter on the inside for Omega and it will build up to her sabotaging further experimentation done on Omega if shes captured.

Idk if this makes sense or is dumb. But I just think it could be a cool avenue. Because we’ve seen clones grapple with what theyve done under imperial command and have seen some of them change their ways which is awesome. And, I think it could also be cool to see a character whos been so shaped by her upbrining, and doesnt have that soldier-ly sheer force of will to just defect. I think it could be cool to see someone go about a change of allegiance in a more roundabout way where they basically have to reason themselves through it because they arent equipped to do it any other way. But yeah its 2 AM now so goodnight.

Bonus: Here is an educational diagram I made of Emerie being “sent elsewhere” circa twentysomething BBY

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb emerie #tbb omega #emerie karr #And I feel like she has potential to be so girl coded in a ‘what am I outside of the purpose I’m meant to serve for other people’ way AHHHH

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sarah-yyy · 1 year

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drive-by rec post for warm on a cold night which just finished airing last night!!

super quick “no time to listen to sarah yell over cdramas now” overview and links first before we get into it as usual:

what: period cdrama // 36 eps, roughly 45 mins each where: iqiyi // viki (usual disclaimer that i do not use eng subs so i don’t speak to the quality of subs) why: fun period cdrama werewolf romance with a sprinkle of crime-solving and uh hand-holding for Plot Reasons

my sweet girl su jiu’er of the qian kingdom! she is the only female constable in the city, but mostly does chores that none of the constables do because she’s had this condition since she was young where her body temperature drops rapidly out of nowhere and she faints randomly so no-one really lets her out to investigate cases even though she’s got the brains for it :(

this loser (affectionate) is han zheng, prince of the qi kingdom - the people of qi are all shapeshifters (think werewolves, though the actual shifting is never really explored too much so idk if they all shift into wolves or if this is specific to han zheng and his branch) who have superior physical abilities. han zheng starts out aloof, arrogant, and low-key anti-qian, but goes through a whole series of character growth because of jiu’er.

these two meet when han zheng sneaks into the qian kingdom to investigate the disappearance of his old friend (who has been branded a traitor of the qi kingdom; hz does not believe this).

jiu’er finds out that touching han zheng alleviates her condition, like he literally warms her up whenever she touches him, so she keeps trying to do that (sometimes with adorable please save me i’m dying begging, sometimes with buddy you are literally an illegal immigrant here i call the shots blackmail, my girl has range) to han zheng’s initial distaste :))) the two of them team up to first solve recent mysteries in the city targeting the qi people, and then later investigate han zheng’s bff’s disappearance and jiu’er father’s death.

this show is so funny!! jiu’er persistently tries to get han zheng to try new things and make friends (even with his love rival!!!!!), and the banter between them at the start is so funny! their rivals to friends to lovers transition is also so smooth, and there is A LOT of gratuitous hand-holding scenes thank you scriptwriter for feeding me so well

ANYWAY the setting is fun, the cases move really quickly and most of them are quite interesting. i think it’s meant to be more a romcom than it is a crime-solving drama, so i went in with lower expectations re: the cases etc which helped! most of them are not that complicated, but still fun to watch unfold! the fight scenes are done really well

the side characters are also a+++

sleepy boy in the middle is wen jun (prince of the qian kingdom), who has had a crush on jiu’er since they were little and she took care of him when he was banished to this temple with his sickly mother by the emperor. they lost contact with each other when he was taken back to the palace after his mother passed. he is THE SWEETEST BOY!!! he doesn’t really have a mind for politics (that’s all left to his elder brother), so his fam just lets him enjoy life writing plays and spending money. he helps out with their investigation and follows han zheng and jiu’er around like a puppy :’) major ot3 vibes but ALAS

HELLO DA-DIANXIA MY LOVE :’) i am a sucker for a smart, well put together man, so can y’all really blame me for imprinting upon wen ying like this??? he is SUSPICIOUS af from the get-go, but also he’s so good and so kind to wen jun that i keep thinking the show is just trying to bait me into thinking he’s the bad guy :( ANYWAY in the later eps, he’s got this Thing going on with chi lan (badass general of the yi kingdom who is also han zheng’s other bff) that just makes me go !!! because of the potential

moustache man is jiu’er’s godfather! also one of my favourite characters with a+++ comedic timing tbh!!! can’t say more about him because spoilers but I LOVE HIM OKAY

if y’all are looking for a nice, low-stakes watch, this is probably the show for you! it’s mostly light-hearted, nothing too complex that requires full attention, and really easy to binge - i probably could’ve done this whole show in one weekend if i weren’t also battling jetlag :D

#tv rec #warm on a cold night #cdrama #ngl i started this because elle messaged me WEREWOLF BI WENJUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#the ending could be better?? it was a bit rushed but i actually really liked that final twist sdfkldsfklhdsdjskf #i was expecting something..............different #also my WEN YING/CHI LAN ship T.T

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jessiemeows · 3 months

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Lost and Found

Chapter 1- My Dagger Happy Friend

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Durge/Female Tiefling.

Prologue. Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of blood and gore, fluff, death, let me know if a miss anything.

A/N: First chapter of my long-form fic! It's a little slow in the beginning but the next chapters will pick up quite fast! This story is basically filling in what I think happens in between the main storyline reworking the story a bit.

“Gods what a mess,” she muttered, crawling herself toward the makeshift dock nearby. The tiefling had been wading in the cool water of the river, in hopes of relief for her fresh, burning wounds. Struggling to hoist herself onto the dock, she collapsed, now basking in the sun as her eyelids began to grow heavy. Every inch of her body was now in agony. Adrenaline must’ve been her friend from earlier, masking the majority of her pain. The now aching agony just beneath her breastplate was now unbearable. It was a deep wound possibly from an imp’s sword that was inflicted during the fight on the nautiloid’s helm. Her wrappings around her left wrist were now bloodsoaked, this hinted it could be the reason for her pain earlier and was likely another wound from the nautiloid that she forgot about she thought to herself. And now, a fresh, new scorching burn seared her thigh.

Eris sat up and quickly rummaged through her pack for any healing potions that could provide relief. She quickly downed the first healing potion but the hot searing pain from the second-degree burn was now almost unbearable. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to concentrate and murmured the incantation of healing word on the wound despite her efforts, the pain was barely alleviated by her spell.

As desperation kicked in the tiefling knew she had to find Shadowheart soon. Despite being a cleric herself, Eris had exhausted her divine abilities, and she desperately needed to rest. With the fragments she had left of her broken memory to rely on, she struggled to memorize anything useful. Exhausting her already broken mind she had a faint recollection of something that possibly a ranger would know, “ashes of balsam and salt, that is what makes a greater healing potion” she mumbled to herself. If she could wrap herself up good then search for those alchemic ingredients to brew up a greater healing potion, she could avoid infection.

She swiftly removed her breastplate and inspected the gash that was left by the imp's sword. Her luck finally found her and she felt relief to find the wound had healed properly from the potions. "Thank the gods," she muttered under her breath. With some good fortune, she swiftly wrapped her other wounds up as best she could. Downing the last of her potions for good measure she began to slowly stand on her feet once more. The hot sun dried her armor quite quickly so was able to move forward with her plans to search for Shadowheart, the gith, and herbs to make a greater healing potion. Oh and to get this parasite out of her brain.

---

“Help, someone please help.” Eris heard a man's desperate plea while she gathered mergrass and balsam, she had only traveled a few feet from the makeshift dock she was previously sitting on. “Hello? Over here!” Eris searched for the source of the voice and spotted a pale elf that was calling out for her. She cautiously and slowly approached the elf, her hand hovering over her weapon as she drew closer.

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered,” the pale man said, now crouching and pointing towards the field ahead. “There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others.” He returned his gaze towards her, his brows furrowed together.

Eris carefully observed her surroundings, trying to decipher if she was walking into a trap. “Um sure, easily stand back,” she replied. As she moved in front of him, she began to look for the intellect devourer ready to sneak attack it. Just as she was about to strike, a boar burst out of the bushes. Seconds before she could react, the elf had a dagger pressed at her throat knocking her to the ground. Eris made a loud yelp as they fell, he gripped her shoulder and snagged her wounded leg with his.

“Shh. Not a sound the elf said in a hushed voice. “Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours”. Eris's heart raced as she struggled to keep the dagger from being any closer to her throat. “Now, I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod.” the elf’s voice was demanding, piercing his crimson eyes into her soul.

Eris shook her head no, the shooting pain from her leg overwhelmed her ability to coherent a single thought process. Her leg throbbed, as tears began to well in her eyes.

The elf forcefully shoved her into the dirt, demanding, “Don’t lie to me! I-agh!.” the elf screamed. The tadpole lay between them, a connection formed. She could now see into a pair of eyes that were stalking busy, dark, shadowy streets. She struggled to cling to the now-fading memory, feeling a sense of dread creeping in - his fear, now her own.

“Ugh, What was that? What’s going on?” he exclaimed as pushed the dagger deeper into her. Eris quickly grabbed his knife arm and began to twist it but his strength overwhelmed hers.

“Ha! A fine effort, but I’ve seen it all. I was walking this land while your ancestors were learning to crawl. Now, tell me what just happened! What was that?” The dagger pressed against her skin, poised to draw blood with the slightest push.

“We can talk when you stop acting like a paranoid lunatic!” Eris finally shouted back at him.

The pale elf clicked his tongue disappointingly. “Stupid. I saw into your head, you know” he said with a mischievous smile on his lips that quickly fell. He slowly released his grip and the two began to stand up cautiously. “You're not one of them,” he started in a calmer tone. “They took you, same as they took me. ‘I’m half tempted to spill your guts all over the dirt anyway, but for now- apologies.” he quickly put on another sly grin while stashing away his dagger into its sheath.

“You’d better have more to offer than ‘apologies’” Eris declared loudly. “But I suppose- I was looking forward to seeing yours” Her eyes had not met his since he had released her; instead, she was preoccupied with adjusting the bandages on her throbbing leg.

“Aha, a kindred spirit but I’m out of wine and flowers, so I hope an introduction will suffice. My name is Astarion. I was in Baldur’s gate when those beasts snatched me.” He said with a sly smile.

Finally, their eyes locked, and Eris stood tall, straightening herself out. “I am in quite the state, but I think I’m Eris,” she murmured, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“A pleasure,” Astarion said, placing his hands on his hips. “So, do you know anything about these worms, Eris?”

“You know as much as I do,” Eris responded, annoyed.

“I suppose it's not exactly common knowledge- these worms are already affecting me. I can feel it. Now what to do about it...” the elf folded one arm across his chest, his fingers tapping his chin.

“Alright, what seems to be your plan? ”Eris asked her eyes scanning him attentively. He was undeniably one of the most attractive men she had ever laid eyes on, or at least that's what she thought she had seen. Despite both of them surviving the crash, he appeared impeccably put together. Not a single silver curl was out of place. His smile was tinged with danger, and his piercing eyes sent her heart into a frenzy.

“Well, you know, getting out of here may be a start,” he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Then finding anyone who might know about these worms. I need an expert. Someone who knows how to control these things…”

“Wait hold on, control them? I want them gone.” Eris exclaimed, her expression filled with bewilderment.

“Well yes of course, but first things first,” Astarion replied, waving his hand at her dismissively.

“ Well maybe we should travel together, as long as you promise not to pull another dagger at my throat,” she said, a smile gracing her lips for the first time since they had met.

“You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea. And you seem like a useful person to know,” he had a wicked smile. “And of course, I promise I will not pull another dagger at your throat, as long as you don’t give me a reason to.” His voice took on a sing-song-like quality as he continued. “Alright, I accept. Lead on.”

Eris' mind starts to swirl with dark thoughts of him as a flawless, beautiful corpse. She shakes her head abruptly, banishing the unsettling images as swiftly as they appear.

The two walked together in silence towards the blazing wreckage of the nautiloid when suddenly, Eris's eyes caught sight of a rogue morsel on the ground. Without hesitation, she snatched it up and settled down in the grass to rummage through her pack.

"Why are we stopping to sit in the dirt?" Astarion's brow furrowed in confusion.

Eris shot him an aggravated look. "I'm sure you haven't noticed my bandaged wound on my leg, but I need to brew a stronger healing potion before it becomes infected. Especially since someone," she shot Astarion a glare, "decided to aggravate it even further."

With deft hands, Eris gathered the necessary ingredients and swiftly concocted the potion, her movements seemed fluid and practiced as if she'd done this many times before.

Astarion cleared his throat, a sheepish look crossing his face. "Ah, sorry about that, dear."

“It’s fine, if I didn't exhaust any of my healing magic from before I wouldn’t be in this mess,” Eris muttered as she downed the potion. Within seconds, she felt a slight improvement. It wasn't as much as she had hoped for, but it was enough to allow her to put weight on her injured leg without wincing in pain. She rose to her feet and gestured for her companion to continue moving forward.

As the two made their way through the wreckage, there was a heavy silence that hung between them. Eris couldn’t decide if she hated the quiet or simply dreaded being alone in her thoughts. Trying to break the silence between the two Eris decided to strike up a conversation.

“So Astarion, tell me about yourself.” she inquired turning to him.

Astarion responded curtly, “What's there to tell, I was a magistrate back in the city. It's all rather tedious.”

Undeterred, she pressed on, “I see, what were you doing when you were abducted?” Astarion snapped back, “Do we have to ask questions right now, I’d much rather walk in silence, if it's all the same to you.”

Realizing her misstep, Eris apologized, “Right, apologies. Was just trying to make conversation.” She protested. “We can make conversation later. I have a headache.” He said while almost growling

Suddenly, Eris halted in her tracks, causing Astarion to collide with her almost knocking her over. Irritated, Astarion hissed, “Do you think, you could maybe not just stop so abruptly?”

“There’s a mindflayer over there. And it’s hurt.” Eris hissed softly back at him.

Unconcerned, Astarion remarked callously, “Well, I'd rather it be hurt than me, do be careful near that thing.”

Eris walked closer to it slowly with her longbow in hand with an arrow ready to strike. As getting closer, Eris felt a strange sense of empathy for the grotesque being. Confused by her conflicting emotions, she realized the mindflayer was attempting to manipulate her, compelling her to offer herself as sustenance. Yielding to its influence, she began to kneel before it.

“What are you doing!? Get away from that thing!” Astarion exclaimed, quickly intervening, pulling her away by the arm, severing the connection.

She quickly took in what had happened and stomped her boot onto the creature instantly killing it. “Monster, death is too good for it,” she said, her eyes widening with a hint of fear.

Eris swiftly turned on her heels to Astarion with apologetic eyes. “Um, thank you Astarion” she murmured.

“Just don’t do that again,” He mumbled sternly to her. Eris nodded silently, and the two continued through the wreckage.

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 companions #bg3 durge #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x durge #astarion x female dark urge #astarion imagine #astarion x oc #tav #baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #creative writing #mind flayer

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thezombieprostitute · 8 months

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Alphas & Algorithms - Part 9 - Plans

A/N: Continued from Part 8. Reader is female and is described as "tall". No other descriptors. None of this is beta read. All mistakes are my own. This is likely to be the last Part in this series but more on that in the A/N at the bottom. Serious thanks to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented!

Warnings: It is a Dystopian AU. Discussion of ableism, bullying, families being separated, food scarcity, manipulation, non-consensual relationships, unwanted pregnancy. Please let me know if I missed any!

--Part 1--

--Series Masterlist--

“Why is everything going wrong this week,” Y/N yelled. “I’ve got way too much to do, not enough time to do it in, and everything is going wrong!”

“Sweetie,” Curtis cooed as he gently rubbed the back of her hand. “Let’s go through the list and see what options we have and what things are just out of our hands.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue, “why do you have to be so practical?”

“Because you like that about me.” Curtis gave her his best cocky smile which made her smile and calm down a bit. He’d really come to like cuddling with her on the couch. It was warm, intimate, comforting.

“...fair,” she conceded. “Okay. Okay. Your Pack has finished moving into their new housing and you said they seem to be settling in pretty well.” Curtis nods in affirmation. “For my heat, the food situation is taken care of. Jake will be temporarily moved to another floor but on call in case of emergency. But there’s a lot of stuff that hasn’t come in yet and my heat’s going to start any day now.”

“What’s the stuff we’re missing?”

“A lot of it is tea herbs,” she sighs. “We used up a lot of them teaching you to make the teas that help me out. No regrets, though. You’ve become quite the master at it. But I might not have as much as I need. The other item running late, though, is the collar. It’s very concerning to me that it hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Okay,” Curtis soothed, “what is the collar and why do you need it?”

Y/N whispers, “it’s needed so you don’t mark me.” She looks away, embarrassed, unsure of his reaction. It was another inequality between their designations, that he needed to be marked but she needed to remain unmarked. She’d been dodging the topic as best she could, unsure of how to broach the topic, but with her collar possibly not arriving in time for her heat, she had to have this talk with him. Curtis keeps stroking the back of her hand until she’s able to continue talking to him.

“Omegas need to stay unmarked to diminish possible bias in their scent abilities.”

“Possible?”

“There hasn’t been enough data to determine for certain that being marked affects an Omega’s abilities or biases so the AI will not risk it. I’m already on the AI’s high risk list because of my weird brain so I want to comply. I need to comply.” She starts rocking a bit and Curtis holds her while gently rubbing her back to soothe her. She brings her nose to his mating gland and focuses on the comfort of his scent until she calms down.

“Has the AI given a reason for why it hasn’t arrived yet?”

“No,” she whispers. “The AI says I received it but I clearly haven’t and there’s no protocol for getting a replacement, especially not this close to my heat. I feel like I’m going crazy! I’ve turned this place upside down trying to find it. I know neither you nor Jake got it. You would’ve asked about it by now and Jake swears he hasn’t seen it.”

“So it’s out of your hands,” Curtis assures. “Not to mention, I’d never hurt you. You don’t want to be marked, I won’t bite.”

“You say that now,” she chuckled. “But what about when I’m in the throes of my heat, you’re lost in your rut and I’m begging you to mark me?”

He contemplates before saying, “guess we’ll just have to trust each other.”

“I just don’t want to get…” she cries. “I don’t even actually know what the AI would do if I was no longer of use to it but I don’t want to find out. And then what if it affects you and your Pack? What if it gets Jake hurt?! There’s a lot of people who need me to be on the AI’s good side. And that’s not even counting all of the innocent people that I know Suzanne and Colin wouldn’t care about verifying their scents. Peggy, sure, but those two? How many people would–”

Curtis starts purring. Her emotions have been getting the better of her more and more as they get closer to her heat. Jake had taught him all of the techniques he and Constance had learned about. Curtis had even practiced some of them on the pups as they got used to their lives. He found himself really taking to the supportive role. He was an Alpha taking care of his Pack.

He was so focused on taking care of her, calming her, that it took him a minute to notice the change in her scent. Her warm, gentle vanilla scent was growing sweeter, delectable even. He felt his body reacting to the change and he gently pulled her face away from him with a small growl. “Sweetie?”

“Curtis,” she whispered, her eyes dark with lust. Y/N kissed him hungrily, needy for him. Curtis responded in kind before the first pains of her heat caused her to pull away, almost doubling over. “Curtis! Please help! It’s never hurt this much before!”

On instinct Curtis was helping her up and getting her to the nest, slowly undressing her and kissing her skin wherever he could. Just have to get her to her nest. Gotta focus on taking care of her. He thought he could control himself, based on his previous ruts. But just as she was hurting more than usual, he was feeling more wild than ever.

As soon as she laid down she whimpered, “please, Alpha. Please help me.”

Curtis froze. “Say it again,” he quietly growled.

“Alpha. Please. I need you.” And they lost control together.

Hobie’s plan was on track, but as much as he wanted to celebrate, he had too many moving parts to rest. He had a lot of communications to review and respond to. When he had first designed the spiderbots he knew he’d have to keep communications short and succinct. After all, a spider weaving a web is no big deal but a spider weaving a web with full paragraphs written in it? That would catch unwanted attention. The morse code helped and was usable across multiple mediums, but it was still constricting.

He’d already had to make a lot of adjustments to the original plan. Steve wanted to make sure his Pack was out of harm’s way and would remain blameless if anything went wrong. Jake wanted to make sure his friend would also be clear of blame. The solution to pair Curtis and Y/N was obvious, though the Betas had been uncomfortable with using their Packmates. Jake had made sure to get Curtis’s scent in the lineup for choosing and he was prepped to push her towards that one if a push was needed.

In exchange, Steve made sure Bucky and Nat got put into a specific cell block, next to each other. He’d also made sure their cells had some of their equipment. Jake made sure to do the small tweaks to the AI’s data that would allow for things like spiderwebs to be ignored. As well as the cell modifications Bucky and Nat were making (apparently Jake had plenty of evidence to convince the AI that bored humans would do all sorts of crazy things to not be bored). As long as they didn’t do too much at once, it wasn’t suspicious. He could trust those two to be patient.

Colin and Suzanne’s Betas confirmed they had the collar, convincing their respective Omegas it would be either a great prank or a way to get “Nil” out of their lives. Jake was still upset about that part of the plan, he didn’t want her to be at risk with the AI like that. Hobie would be the first to admit it wasn’t his proudest part of the plan, but he knew that showing the AI that a mated pair would get pregnant faster could be a big step towards quality of life for the Alphas in the tower. Y/N didn’t know she’d been laying down the foundations for that plan, helping Peggy to not conceive and pushing for courting and consent with her own Alpha. Jake confirmed the addition of fertility boosters in the food she and Curtis would be eating.

One of the communiqué webs he spotted was from one of the younger recruits, Morales. He was frustrated by how slowly things were going. Hobie chuckled, Everyone wants the big action hero revolution. But that’s what had doomed the previous attempts at freedom.

The first attempt tried the action hero thing, the military style coup, and it ended in disaster. Nothing but death and torment. The second attempt tried more of a subterfuge approach, messing with the AI’s core data directly. But they found out the hard way that doing so caused secondary protocols in the AI’s system to activate. Again, nothing but death and torment.

Hobie programmed his response spiderbot, Learned from past mistakes. Don’t rush. He hoped Morales would understand. Sometimes, to break the system, you need to pick away at the strengths before you can bomb the weaknesses and bring the whole thing down.

Tagging @every-username-is-taken-damnit, per request.

A/N2: This feels like a natural finishing point to me, and not just because it's similar to the original planned ending by part 2. Everyone's discussion about the chapters has given me enough ideas that I could do another arc if there's enough interest.

A/N3: Just in case I don't say it enough, thank you to everyone who's been reading!

#alpha!curtis everett #alpha!curtis everett x omega!reader #curtis everett x tall!reader #dystopia au #dystopian au #tall!reader

24 notes · View notes

cambria-writes · 11 months

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i did it. it's finally done. it's over, and i finished it.

thank you so much to everyone who's followed me and this story, who's commented, liked and reblogged. you've all helped give me back something i had lost a long time ago: the ability to write.

i'm so thankful to have found this fandom and the people in it, and i wouldn't change a single thing about the journey that was writing Ravenloft.

some things to know about this chapter:

i only discovered literally two days ago that july 1st is not, in fact, universal moving day. that's apparently something very unique to my part of canada lol, so that's why i had the moving take place that day. might not have even registered for anyone else but me but i felt like i should explain that just in case.

additionally, i don't know fuckall about indiana, never been. the market place arena is no longer there, either, so it took a bit of guesswork to figure out what to do. thank you to @bramblequill for answering my very strange questions. ♥

lastly, i have no idea how school works in the states. i just went with september 2nd as back to school since it was the tuesday right after labour day, and the internet told me that 8:30am as a starting time for classes was reasonable so there we go.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: E, 18+ warnings: SMUT, female anatomy used but otherwise no real physical description, fingering, masturbation (m and f), cum swallowing, so much swearing, Wayne calls Eddie son and reader calls Wayne his father, smoking (cigarettes and weed), alcohol consumption, vague reference to choking, mention of flagging/the hanky code, Eddie doesn't whip out the sadism though, mention of using handcuffs, i guess this is semi-public sex actually, Eddie's a gentleman though, mention of an alternate timeline where Eddie does die, mention of death broadly, reader has anxious responses to shit sometimes, Good Girl is said a few times, god I'm running out of brain RAM please let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 7,512

thank you again!!

Previous Masterlist

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔢𝔯𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨

July 2nd, 19863:27AM

You don’t know where you are when you first wake up. There are no lights on, there’s a familiar but distant sound, and it’s too fucking warm. After a few seconds of tensely paying attention, you realize that the familiar sound is the compressor in the fridge.

Right. You moved yesterday.

When you bother to open your eyes and look around, you realize why it’s so dark. You never bothered to plug in your alarm clock and you can’t see the time on the stove from here, but it’s definitely still night. Quiet enough that it’s probably not even 4am yet.

You roll to turn around, but promptly end up yelping and falling right on your ass. The vague but bitter thought crosses your mind that you’ve somehow developed a habit of falling and injuring yourself in whatever bedroom you occupy.

Said bedroom door cracks open slowly. From your spot on the floor, you get to see a very tired Eddie—is he even actually awake?—slowly emerge from the opening door.

“Fuck was that,” he mutters, right before unhinging his jaw to yawn. You sigh and let yourself fall back on the floor, limp, staring up at a ceiling fan that refuses to work.

“Forgot where I was,” you say quietly, throwing an arm over your eyes. “Go back to bed dude.”

Eddie grunts, but you don’t hear the tell-tale squeaking and creaking of floorboards. Instead, when you move your arm out of the way just enough to see, you catch Eddie scratching the back of his head and looking back to the hallway. He clears his throat, and you cover your eyes again before he catches you staring.

He probably caught you staring way too much yesterday, so you’re not sure why it matters. It’s not like he’d make a big deal out of it anyways—not the way Steve and Robin did when they were helping you carry the sectional couch Mrs Henderson insisted you take from her basement.

(It’s fine, she had said, I can’t really look at that old thing anymore, she said. You didn’t ask, but you’d assumed that it was the same as everyone in Hawkins; just trying to get rid of all the leftovers from The Earthquake and what had preceded it.)

You’re jostled out of your thoughts when you feel Eddie’s shoulder—bare, from the cut-out Black Sabbath shirt he’s warning—against yours. He feels cool and clammy, like he’d been tossing and turning around in the heat, too.

“Ahh,” he sighs, folding his hands over his chest. “You had the right idea. Floor’s cold. Fuck this heat.”

You hum in agreement, and turn your head to properly look at Eddie.

“You could go back home,” you say quietly. When you don’t get an answer after a few seconds, you scoff lightly and turn to stare back at the ceiling. “At least he wouldn’t be boiling alive.”

You nearly squawk when you feel a hand taping on your hip. When you turn to look at Eddie again, his eyes are closed, still, but he’s very clearly frowning.

“Y’r being stupid,” he mutters, taking a deep breath before forcing himself to sit up, leaning back on his hands. He rotates his shoulders and—and he’s saying something else, you know he is. But there’s... there’s something about his shoulders.

Have they always been that wide?

You know your mouth is hanging open when Eddie turns to look back at you, and you only snap it shut with a click when you see him grinning.

“Didn’t catch a word I just said, huh.”

You try to speak a first time, but your voice cracks on the first syllable. Clear your throat and cough once or twice before trying again. This time you get yourself up on your feet and head for the door.

“Not a word. Too tired. Want a beer?”

Eddie blinks at you owlishly for a second before letting himself fall back to the floor. You’re about to take that as a silent refusal when he grumbles.

“Do you even know what time it is? Beer?”

You scoff again and cross your arms from your place at the door.

“What, like you do?”

Eddie simply raises an arm in response. You frown, open your mouth to ask why the fuck he’s raising his hand in your damn house, when you notice the watch still on his wrist.

(You try not to remember a very different, broken watch keeping time for the dead.)

“Right, well,” you dither, clearing your throat again. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Do you want a beer or not?”

Eddie sighs, putting on a show about being put out and disappointed and too tired, but the hand he rests low on your back to herd you out of the room is gentle. The quiet ‘sure’ he whispers also sounds far too caring and indulgent.

You practically inhale half of the first beer you pull from the fridge. If Eddie’s got any thoughts about that, he keeps them to himself. You sit down at the table—square, angular, nothing like the one that was in your hideout—and lean back in a chair that still smells like sawdust and campfire.

Leaning back in his own chair across from you, Eddie takes a slow look around. You see him pause to look at what you’ve already put up on the fridge. There’s a character sheet, a small pebble that’s been glued to a magnet, a note from your parents and a small magnetic photo frame. You can already feel your face heat up when Eddie points at it.

“That wasn’t there when we had pizza,” he says, slowly and a bit incredulously. You can only hold his gaze for a second or two when he turns to you for answers.

“I, uh,” you stutter, biting your lip and picking at the label of the bottle in your hands. “That’s—my mom, uh.”

It’s a polaroid.

By any other metric, completely unremarkable. Unnoticeable, probably, to anyone whose face isn’t actually on the damn thing. And if your mother hadn’t taken you aside yesterday morning to hand you a small, old and beaten-up looking shoebox, you probably wouldn’t ever have remembered that photo exists.

It’s Eddie, surrounded by trees, and wearing a cloak that had definitely been about twelve sizes too big. The hood swallows most of his head; the only thing that’s really visible is his smile. Honestly, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that that’s Eddie Munson, in that photo.

But you remember taking that. Remember flapping the polaroid around madly while running away.

You shake your head against the memory. Those times are long gone, now. So why...

“Yeah,” you end up whispering, before taking a deep breath and letting out a deeper sigh. “I’unno. When my mom gave me an old box of pictures from middle school, I kind of...” You look over at the fridge and take another, albeit significantly more moderate, drag of your beer. “Dunno. Felt like it.”

Eddie slowly stands and walks over to the fridge. Takes a sip of his beer while he looks at the photo. Takes a quick look at you before taking a step back from the fridge to look at what all else you’ve put up there so far.

“You still got that box?” And bless him, you know he’s trying to be nonchalant about it, but there’s an anxious tone undercutting his voice clear as day. You chuckle and make your way back to your room and to your closet.

It’s only when you pull the small shoebox out and you’ve got it cradled in your arms do you realize the significance of this.

Almost everything that was in the trailer was lost; it’s honestly a miracle anything survived at all. But among the losses, you remember Wayne bemoaning the loss of the few pictures that he’d been able to take of Eddie over the years.

You look down at the box a bit more misty-eyed. You hope that there’s something helpful in here. Something nicer.

When you make it back to the living room, Eddie’s still standing in front of the fridge. His brows are pulled together and the sip he takes of his beer nearly dribbles down his chin. You hold the box a bit closer to your stomach when you move to stand next to him.

“What are we looking at?” you ask, and Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. You put a hand on his arm and laugh. “Hey there, have a nice time up in the clouds?”

Eddie laughs a bit thinly, points up at the fridge. “I was just. You kept the—the lyrics. From middle school?”

You stare up at the piece of turns, crumpled up ruled paper. You remember carrying that everywhere with you, in middle school and high school. Carried it in your wallet for a while, too, though...

You turn back to the table to gently put the shoebox down. “I didn’t think you’d remember writing that,” you say quietly, pulling up one small stack of photos neatly held together with a rubber band.

Eddie scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You basically whined at me for weeks to come up with a love song for... what was—”

“Shanon,” you add quickly, blindly reaching for your beer bottle while sorting through photos. “Blonde, grey eyes. You were infatuated.”

You don’t see the sad, self-deprecating grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shanon... yeah, no, didn’t write that for her.”

You take a second to bring the bottle down from your mouth. Turn around to look at Eddie, but he’s still resolutely looking at the paper haphazardly stuck to the fridge. It’s at an angle. It’s starting to drive you crazy. Eddie chugs the rest of his beer, puts the empty bottle on the counter by the fridge, and turns around.

“Woah there pal,” you start, chugging your own beer with a wince. You put the bottle back on the table behind you. “What’s that look for?”

You feel like your heart’s beating a frenzy in your throat. You’re pretty sure you just felt a heart palpitation. The look on Eddie’s face is intense in a way you don’t recognize. Not like when he's DMing and he’s about to throw a real wrench in everyone’s plans, and not like in the Upside Down.

No, it feels a lot like how he looks at you out in the fields by the junkyard.

You would take a step back when Eddie starts walking toward you, but you’re already leaning against the table behind you. You try to straighten up to maybe attempt to look less frazzled than you feel.

The beer’s already making your head feel fuzzy and your lips feel numb.

Eddie stops about a foot away from you, and you’re not sure how to feel about the fact that you have to crane your neck up to actually look at him. He opens his mouth, looking down at your with a frown. He tries a few times like this, before sighing and just.

Letting himself slump over to rest his head on your right shoulder.

You stay like that for a bit. You can hear the hitch in Eddie’s breath when he tries, again, to say something. After the third or fourth time, it feels like something’s squeezing your chest. He’s clearly got something on his chest he wants to get off—something heavy—and you know how that feels. How that goes.

Your left hand comes up to brace the back of his head before you can think of the implications.

Whatever. Fuck the implications.

“You can take your time, y’know,” you whisper, slowly slumping back to lean against the table behind you, forcing Eddie to take a step forward if he wants to stay in his spot.

“I can’t, I really can’t.” His voice sounds strained, and you flounder. You’ve never really had to struggle to get people to talk to you—not the people who actually give a fuck about you, anyways. And you can’t think of a single time, barring the obvious fuckery of the Upside Down, when Eddie was hesitant to talk to you.

He gently grabs the hand in his hair and pulls it away to straight himself out again. His eyes are closed when you can see his face again. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.

“Listen—“

The phone rings.

You haven’t even put it up on the wall by the doorway yet. It’s still on the counter, where you’ve left it, right by the fridge.

The shock of it in the quiet of the dining room makes you trip over yourself. Eddie catches you and, practically in the same motion, spins to direct you to the phone. Out of breath, you pick up.

“Ye—hello?”

“Hey, hon,” comes Wayne’s tired greeting. “Sorry if I woke you up, but is Eddie still with you?”

You blink a few times, staring out into nothing. You only wonder for a second why he’d call so late when you’d likely be out cold, but when you turn to face Eddie—now leaning back against the table—the realization comes all at once.

“Ed—yes, oh my god, Wayne, I’m so sorry,” you rush to say, turning back to the counter and cradling the receiver. “Yeah, he helped me unpack and we kind of crashed, I should have had him call—”

“Hey, hey,” Wayne chuckles, and the lightness of the tone helps you breathe a bit easier. “It’s fine. Sorry I woke ya up.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you reply quickly. “We’ve been up for a bit going through some stuff.”

“I won’t keep you then. Just tell that idiot son of mine to call next time.”

You let out a quiet bark of laughter and promise you will. You don’t think you’ve ever referred to Eddie as his son before. Guess the whole town going to shit changed a few things. Said idiot son has the decency to look a bit ashamed when you turn around and lean back against the counter.

“Probably shoulda called before we called it a night, huh,” Eddie says with a wince.

There’s a beat of silence that’s almost awkward before you clear your throat to speak.

“You uh, you were going to tell me something?”

Eddie stands there, expression not unlike shock on his face. He opens his mouth two or three times but eventually settles on a shrug.

“Don’t worry about it, I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” The end of his sentence almost trails off its so quiet. It’s clearly a lie, but you’re too fuzzy from the beer and fatigue from moving to push the issue any further.

You push yourself off the kitchen counter and brush your hands off on your thighs.

“Well,” you start, feeling a bit awkward while you amble toward the hallway. “I need to go back to bed. Let me know if...” It’s your turn to trail off, because you’re not sure how to end that sentence. Let you know if what, a demodog comes bursting in through the window?

You look anxiously over your shoulder at the window over the sink. It’s fine. It’s nothing, nothing’s there, you’re good. You clear your throat.

“Right, so. I’ll just.”

Eddie nods but doesn’t look at you. Your room is bright with birdsong and the rising sun by the time you fall asleep.

17 July 19861:37AM

You’re not entirely sure what motivated you to get out of bed, climb into your car, and make it to the Munsons’. It’s not like you couldn’t have just grabbed the phone and dialed Eddie’s shiny separate number. (You’re beginning to think the hush money bit was real.) You’ve called each other at the worst times of night and day for dumber shit.

This time, though, the nightmare felt a little too real to ignore and sleep off. Like you usually would have done.

It was like you had never existed; like everyone had gone into the Upside Down without you, without an extraction team, without a backup plan. And you had to watch while Eddie sliced the blanket rope. Horrified, you watched Dustin sprain his ankle in his rush to get back.

Eddie, gasping and choking on his own blood, saying he hadn’t run away this time. Eddie, glassy-eyed and gone, torn to shreds by bats left motionless by what you now know to have been Chief Hopper’s own attack all the way in Russia.

You take a second to control your breathing once you’re at the squat triplex. Eventually you uncurl your stiff and sore fingers from the steering wheel and force yourself out of the car. Your legs feel like jello and your head like lead.

You consider trying to climb up to the third floor, somehow, if only for a second. You know Wayne’s likely to be up so you shouldn’t worry too much about either ringing or knocking but... Shake your head and hit the button for the third floor before you can think more about it and chicken out.

You’re let in surprisingly quickly. When you make it up to door number 3, Wayne’s leaning against the doorway.

“Bit early,” he says, uncrossing his arms once you’re near. Puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “Everything okay?”

“Nightmares,” you answer quietly. You curl and uncurl your fists at your sides.

“Come on,” Wayne says after a beat of silence. “He’s in his room. Coffee?”

You shake your head. With one last squeeze of your shoulder. Wayne wanders back inside, and you aim straight for Eddie’s bedroom door. Your fist is up to knock when Eddie opens the door, looking disheveled but extremely awake.

“Hey,” he says airily, out of breath as he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail. “I was about to head out—you weren’t answering your phone so.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything or explain before pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He throws his jacket—leather only, sans denim, as it has been for a few months now—over the back of the chair as his desk.

Nothing much else is said, which is how these nights usually go. Neither of you need to be rehashing what happened in the Upside Down, the earthquake, your constant passing out. Tonight, though, there is one thing that eats at you. Eddie has to nudge you, sitting next to him on his bed beneath the window, to pass the joint over. When you take it, he makes a point to lean forward to try and get a good look at your face.

“Did... did something happen? Before you got here?” he asks, and the concern in his voice twists your gut unpleasantly.

“It’s just—it’s nightmares. You know how it is.” You make a point not to take too deep of a toke of the joint before passing it back over, turning your head to blow the smoke out through the open window.

You can just barely see Eddie narrowing his eyes at you in your periphery. For a second, when he straightens up and leans back against the wall next to you, you think he’s dropped it.

“If it was just nightmares, you would’ve called.”

You snort and look the other way. Again, though, Eddie nudges you to turn around and take the joint. Carefully and, thankfully, not too quickly, he grabs your wrist as you grab the joint.

“Hey. Come on. Talk to me, please.”

Your eyes burn and you can already feel your nose getting red and itchy. Your whole face feels warm. Either to spare you the embarrassment of it or a second, secret reason, Eddie pulls you into his chest and you just start crying.

You’ve dreamt of people dying before. Tons of times. Even before El tore a massive hole through reality in Hawkins. But that—feeling powerless in a situation you know could’ve happened if you hadn’t just been around and stuck your nose where it arguably shouldn’t have been—and seeing Eddie die in a way you just couldn’t help?

That was brutal.

17 July 19869:12AM

You have no idea when you fell asleep. Your eyes feel sore and dry, your throat feels strange and your neck hurts. You’re cursorily aware that you’re in Eddie’s room—the smell of weed, incense and whatever cologne he wears usually gives it away.

Very quickly, you realize that you’ve fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest at an awkward angle. You’re both barely sitting up, still leaning back against the wall underneath the window. God, you drool on him. Fuck.

Okay, this is fine. You’ve literally had worse.

You take a deep breath and, as smoothly and quickly as you can, roll off the bed and onto your knees. It’s not graceful, but when you look back, Eddie still seems to be sound asleep. You pray to whatever’s out there that he stays that way until his shirt’s dry.

You tiptoe out of the room and turn the knob before shutting the door behind you. The rest of the apartment is empty, and with how late you heard Wayne ambling about, you’re sure he’s not ready to get up any time soon, either.

By the time you leave, there’s breakfast ready to be reheated in the oven and you’ve left a note on the coffee maker saying to just turn it on.

When you walk outside to your car, though the sun’s been up for a while, the fog still clings to the ground. You sit in your car for a few minutes, staring at the water droplets slowly evaporating on the windshield. When your heart rate has gone back down to something human and manageable, you start the car and head home.

13 August 198612:07AM

If you were bubbling with excitement before the concert, now you feel like soda that’s been left out for a few hours. Flat, maybe, but still just as sweet as it was before, if not moreso. You still feel all the enthrallment that you did before and during the concert, but now you feel...

Well, post-concert blues. That satisfied feeling of having witnessed something amazing, but the accompanying sadness and mourning knowing that you’ll never be able to relive this same experience again. It’s come and gone and now all you can do is remember it.

You slap your thighs to bring you out of your own head. This is going to be a good fucking night. Eddie literally bought you tickets to see Judas Priest and drove you both all the way out here. Refused to let you drive for a singular second, too.

“You still that hyped?” Eddie asks, laughing, holding his lighter out to you. You light up your own smoke and laugh.

“Nah, just trying to get my head back in the game. Too much shit rattling around in here.” You tap your head with the lighter before handing it back. Eddie takes a second before grabbing it, though, and you have to wave your other hand in front of him to snap him out of it.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s out of it,” you laugh, bumping his shoulder with yours when he finally takes the damn lighter back.

Quietly, from inside the van, you can hear the opening bars for Wild Nights.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grunts, crouching down to tie the messy laces of his right shoe. “I’m the one who drove three hours to get here, and had to convince your parents that I wouldn’t murder you and dump your body in the river.”

You can’t help but cackle. You know for a fact that neither of your parents called the Munson household, but you also know that it’s something that they very easily could have done. Looking out at the White river from your little spot at the state park, you open your mouth to say something about how overprotective Wayne can be, but then something catches your eye.

“They literally,” you start, reaching over to pluck the scarf from Eddie’s back pocket. “Did not do that.” You twist the scarf around in your hands a bit before trying to whip it at his ass. You miss horribly and end up snapping the tip of the scarf on his thigh.

You burst out in laughter, full bellied and unrestrained, when Eddie yelps and topples over to the right. You try to apologize and ask if he’s okay, but you doubt that anything intelligible makes it past you wheezing, squeaking laughter.

“Alright, that’s it,” Eddie grumbles, tossing his half-smoke cigarette into the gravel before stalking towards you. He’s clearly not upset, but you make a mad dash for the riverbank anyways.

The toes of your shoes have just barely touched water before Eddie’s arms wrap around your torso and pull you back. You shriek and kick once or twice before letting yourself go limp.

Half an hour later finds you in some park along the 36, hair and clothes still damp and cheeks sore. You’re both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, passing a joint between you and looking out onto the park.

“I like what you’ve done with this old bitch,” you comment, tapping the plush—carpeting? blanket?—that Eddie’s laid down in the back. “Is there a camping mat under this or something?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, been going out in the woods after work sometimes just to like... relax, y’know?” You nod; you ran to the woods a lot as a kid, too. “Right, so I kinda made it more comfy to get high in. That’s it.”

When he passes you the joint, you look back at the front where you’d left the scarf. Handkerchief? You’ve had the question in mind ever since March: is he the S or is he the M?

��Seriously?” Eddie balks. “That’s what’s been on your mind this whole time?”

You turn to look at him and blink owlishly.

“Oh. Oh god, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

Eddie laughs, and it almost sounds a little mean. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck and making its way to your face. Your cheeks itch with it.

“Right, you’re too baked and tired for this,” Eddie declares, and even to your ears he sounds way too composed and, frankly, sober. Though you guess he’s maybe had a bit more time to get used to smoking weed than you have.

“What, no!” You whine, trying to reach across him to snag the joint out of his left hand. Unfortunately, the best that’s done for you is get you splayed across Eddie’s lap once you inevitably lose your balance. “Fuck you.”

Eddie’s almost unnaturally still beneath you. And you’d look up at him, if you could, but even fucking cooked, you’re very aware that you’re laid across a man’s lap.

Your throat feels too tight when you swallow. You move to brace an arm on Eddie’s thigh to prop yourself up, but his hand on the back of your head has you freezing in place. When the hand starts petting down your head, your neck and your spine, only to start again at the top, you start to go limp. This isn’t so bad.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, and you get the feeling you’ve spoken out loud again. “You would think that.” The embarrassment is enough to make your eyes sting. There’s a beat of silence, and then Eddie leans over to whisper in your ear, “Good girl.”

You swallow thickly. You had intended to follow-up by asking whether or not Eddie was even interested in the opposite gender. But you suppose that answers that.

There’s a tension in your gut and shoulders that makes you second guess yourself. You get the words out before you can think too much about it.

“What do I have to do for you to say that again?”

The hand petting you takes its time reaching the bottom of your spine, and then stays there. Warm against your lower back, and just high enough to say he’s not actually touching your ass. Awfully cordial.

“Depends,” Eddie hums, and you hear him take another toke of the joint before crushing the tip of it between his fingers and chucking the extinguished butt somewhere you can’t see. “Why?”

This time, you do prop yourself up, both hands on Eddie’s thigh. If it had been anyone else, the distance between your faces would have been the epitome of discomfort.

“I want you to say it again,” you answer quietly. It’s getting harder to keep your eyes on his and not let them drift down.

“Say what again?” Eddie asks, and you don’t know if you love or hate the shit eating grin on his face. You should have expected this, though; putting you on the spot was part of the whole point, wasn’t it?

“I-I want you to...” you start, but your throat feels too small for the words that are trying to come out. Eddie’s hand at your lower back comes up to rub comforting circles between your shoulder blades. Your face and neck are on fire and everything feels itchy.

“Come on,” Eddie whispers. You realize that you’ve been staring at his mouth, and when you look, he is very much looking down at your mouth. “Won’t laugh. Promise.”

The sigh that leaves you almost surprises you.

“I-I want you to—I want you to call me a good girl. Again. Please.”

The hand between your shoulders makes its way forward to cup your jaw.

“Good girl,” Eddie breathes, and it’s like your whole body vibrates, shudders with the satisfaction of it. “Fuck,” he chuckles, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re really into that.”

You want to say that you shrugged, but the reality is that the sound that comes out of your mouth couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a whimper.

“Can I—” Eddie starts asking, but you cut him off nearly right away.

“Yes.”

You would think kissing your childhood best friend, whom you’d lost touch with for several years and had recently gone through several traumatic events with, would be somewhat awkward and clumsy. But, unlike when you were teenagers, you and Eddie both, clearly, had the advantage of some gained experience in the meanwhile.

There’s no chastity in the kiss; from the moment his mouth locks with yours, it’s open-mouthed and breathless. Eddie pulls you closer, helps you sit across his lap properly, and you fist your hands in his shirt. In his brand new Judas Priest shirt. You know he doesn’t even particularly like Turbo, as an album. Almost none of it is his preferred style.

You whine into the kiss, and you chase Eddie’s lips when he pulls away. He helps shift you off his lap and quickly instructs you to move back and lie down. The van is plunged into near pitch-black. You move back until you feel what you think is the back of the driver’s seat. You don’t lie back yet, instead reaching out for Eddie.

Your hand knocks into what’s apparently his arm. His mouth finds your again in the dark as your fingers find their way into his hair. You gasp when Eddie roughly pulls you down, firmly gripping your hips one second and cradling your head to make sure you don’t hit it the next.

“You sure this is fine?” Eddie asks, though his lips are moving down to your neck, teeth nipping at the skin.

“It’s fine, this is fine,” you rush to say, letting your hands wander up under Eddie’s shirt. You’re sure to keep your touch light when you come across the scars. “This is so fucking fine,” you breathe.

Eddie’s shirt rises with your wandering hands, and he gives you a second to pull it over his head. You have no idea where you toss it and you honestly couldn’t care less. His hands, in return, take the opportunity to make their way under your shirt, and you want to scream. Your entire body feels like a coil being wound tighter.

It’s unfamiliar, how intense it is. You don’t think you mind.

Eddie knocks your knees open to settle between your legs rather than straddling you, though you’re more preoccupied by your shirt—identical to Eddie’s, because you couldn’t help yourself—being peeled off and thrown into an equally unknowable direction. His hands on your ribs feel like irons smoothing out the trembling wrinkles of them, and the shuddering sigh that you let out makes Eddie chuckle.

“Poor thing,” he laments, one hand at your waist prompting you to arch your back, the other sliding up your back to somehow expertly undo the clasp of your bra. “Been holding out for a while, huh.”

It’s not a question. You twitch, about to bring your hands up to hide your face, but—there’s no real point, is there? In this kind of darkness, it’s not like he’d be able to see how red your face is. You have a feeling he’d reprimand you for trying to hide, anyways.

“Didn’t think you’d wanna look at me,” you breathe into his mouth. Saying it out loud makes it feel silly, especially here and now. You don’t hold it against him when Eddie laughs. You can hear the shock in it.

“We’re both idiots,” he mutters, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your neck, nipping at the collarbone on the way. He presses his lips to your sternum, hands gliding up your sides to palm at your breasts. Nothing like the fumbling messes of your first adult years; Eddie’s hands are slow and deliberate. He’s not feeling you up for his own sake—though you don’t doubt that it in no small way contributes to the hardening length you feel growing at the junction of your thigh—but for yours. This feels entirely like a massage for your benefit.

To his credit, it’s working. Whatever tension you were holding in your shoulders is slowly melting away under his hands.

His mouth continues its trail down, licking a stripe up your navel before he stops at the button of your shorts. You don’t let him ask, you just unbutton them for him. He doesn’t move until he hears you start to pull at the zipper. He doesn’t leave you time to pull it down all the way before he’s tugging your shorts off like they’ve personally offended him.

The cold air makes you realize he’s taken your underwear with them. He lightly rests his forehead on your stomach and breathes in. It almost makes you choke.

“God you smell good,” he growls against your skin. While his mouth trails kisses back up your torso, you feel one hand sliding gently up your chest to rest at the base of your throat. The other slides two fingers through your slit.

Eddie groans like he’s in pain.

“I won’t—not here, fuck,” Eddie mutters, nuzzling between your breasts, and you buck your hips into his hands when one of his slicked fingers finds your clit. “First time we gotta do it right but this, we can—I can give you this,” he whispers, so low you figure he must be talking to himself more than he is to you.

One finger prods at your entrance, and then he’s got two fingers inside of you. The first few pumps, though heaven, don’t do much. But then Eddie curls his fingers, and it’s like he’s a puppeteer who’s pulled on all of your strings all at once. He exhales sharply and sounds entirely too pleased with himself when he speaks.

“There she is,” he whispers, mouthing at the spot on your neck just below your ear. The warmth makes you shiver and clamp down on his finger. “Fuck, that’s it.”

Eddie’s hand practically turns into a machine. You don’t think you’ve ever been able to get yourself so close to cumming in less than a minute. The hand at the base of your neck creeps just a little bit higher. When you gasp at the pressure his fingers apply, you have to grab at Eddie’s wrist to keep his hand there.

“You’re perfect,” Eddie sighs, and you can feel more than see him toss his head back. “Fuck, wish I could see your face right now.”

“Next time,” you reply quickly. “Please, fuck, I’m so close, please please please,” you whine, reaching your other hand down to rub at your clit.

“Holy shit that’s so fucking hot,” Eddie groans, and bites down on your neck, just above where his hand collars it nicely.

The sting is what sends you careening over the edge, cumming with a drawn-out moan. Your hips jerk erratically in spite of yourself, chasing Eddie’s fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm. When your arms go limp, you distantly register the sound of his belt coming undone and the distinct sound of him spitting. There’s a slick sound and it doesn’t take long for you to realize that.

That Eddie Munson is jerking off over your naked body.

“Fucking christ,” you whisper, out of breath, and force yourself to sit up.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans, and you blindly reach out for him. He grabs one of your hands on his chest, laces his fingers tightly through yours. Your other hand, however, makes it down to his, wrapped around and pump his cock.

You shimmy back just enough to be able to lean down to lick the tip.

“Jesus f—I’m gonna,” Eddie chokes out. He doesn’t finish his sentence when you bat his hand away and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and suck.

You swallow more of him down as he cums, swallowing around him once or twice before he brushes a hand up your forehead and lightly pushes you back and away. You kiss his navel, instead, then his sternum, until he pulls you up with two hands cupping your face, and makes you kiss him, instead.

You didn’t think you’d be turned on by a guy kissing you after you’ve just swallowed his load, but there are apparently a lot of things you’ve yet to discover about yourself.

Carefully, mouths still touching but not quite kissing, Eddie maneuvers you both so that he can lie down on his back, and you can lay your head on his chest.

You throw a leg over his for good measure.

“I’m not moving anymore,” you groan, burrowing your face into his chest.

“Can’t blame ya,” Eddie says, breathless, and you can’t help but laugh.

There’s a moment of silence, and then both of you start laughing. The bouncing of his chest makes it hard to stop laughing. Your gut hurts, your cheeks hurt, and you are entirely too sweaty. You could not care less.

“So,” Eddie starts, once you’ve both been able to calm down and breathe like normal people again. “You mentioned a next time?”

You hum and close your eyes against the darkness in the back of the van.

“Mm, it did not escape my notice that the handcuffs were something you managed to rescue from the trailer,” you mumble, throwing an arm over Eddie’s chest and squeezing.

“...I don’t think I hate the idea of you in chains, actually.”

September 2nd, 19867:58AM

You’re woken up entirely too early by your phone ringing. You don’t need to look at the time to know it’s too early; if you can’t hear cars driving around yet, it’s too fucking early.

“Mmn, gmorning, what,” you slur, wedging the phone between your chin and shoulder and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” Eddie greets you brightly, and the warmth that bubbles up in your chest at the sound of his voice feels almost euphoric.

“You’re a weapon,” you say fondly, moving from where you’ve finally wall-mounted the phone to the wall by the fridge and making your way to the kitchen counter, which you promptly hop up on. “Wait,” you whisper, leaning forward to look at the calendar you’ve stuck to the fridge. “It’s September 2nd.”

“Mhm, congratulations, you can correctly identify the date.”

You ignore the snark.

You have entirely forgotten to ask Eddie whether or not he’d been made to repeat his senior year—again—despite everything that had happened over spring break. It felt awkward to ask now, though.

“You, uh,” you stutter instead, trying to find the least offensive way to go about finding out. “You’re calling, uh, early. Special occasion?”

“Of course,” Eddie says haughtily, and you can almost imagine the expression on his face. The kind that says ‘I know something you don’t and I know you’re too much of a coward to ask about it’.

“Come on just say it man,” you plead, letting your head fall back and reaching up to keep the receiver in place.

“My lady, I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of.”

“Fucking dick,” you say under your breath. Take a deep breath, bring your head back up and square your shoulder. “Edward Munson, did they or did they not let you graduate?”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter so loud you have to pull the receiver away from your ear for a second. His tone and demeanor make you want to believe that he’s finally been cut some slack, but...

You manage to get a single sound out before there’s a knock at your door. You hold the phone away from yourself again, narrow your eyes at it like it’s Eddie in your hands instead of the receiver, and put it back to your ear. You cut off whatever he was saying when you speak again.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why there’s someone knocking on my door at,” you pause, turning to look at the time on the stove. “One past eight in the fucking morning?”

“Dunno, sounds important if it’s this early though,” Eddie replies, a bit too easily, and you sigh.

“Whatever, I’m putting the phone down. Don’t hang up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You huff and put the phone down on the counter, making sure it won’t fall off. By the time you make it to your front door, whoever’s there has decided that knocking nonstop is clearly the best way to get your attention.

You honestly should have expected Dustin Henderson at your doorstep at eight in the morning on back to school day. He’s suspiciously got an arm behind his back. You sigh, again, and unlock the deadbolt and undo the latch before opening the door.

“Alright,” you say, one hand on your hip and the other hand held out. “Fork it over.”

“I have no idea—” Dustin starts to say, but the deadpan stare you level at him makes him clear his throat instead. “Right! Here you go.”

“Thank you kindly, now hold up,” you say, holding a finger up and quickly walking over to your fridge to pull a bottle of water out. When you’re halfway back to the door, you call out, “Heads up!” and toss the bottle over.

Dustin barely manages to catch the thing, but doesn’t do so without a comical amount of fumbling.

“Awesome, now that you’ve done your Dungeon Master’s bidding, go the fuck to school, nerd,” you chastise, flicking the bill of Dustin’s cap.

“Man, you’re mean, you know that?”

“Sure, that’s why I’m making sure you’re staying hydrated on that damn bike,” you retort, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Go on now, shoo. Go get an education.”

You wait until you can’t see Dustin down the road anymore before closing and locking the door, and wandering back over to the phone.

“Alright,” you say, wedging the receiver under your chin again and tearing open the envelope you’d been handed. “This better be worth it. I was up until 3am and I’m fucking beat.”

Eddie stays quiet, but you can practically feel the frantic energy of him through the phone. You pull the paper—papers, it’s a whole damn stack of them—and then promptly drop them all on the kitchen floor when you catch the title on the first page.

“Edward,” you start, tone harsh.

“Hey, woah, okay,” Eddie rushes to start. “Okay, I graduated, right? Like, everyone was let through because of all the bullshit. That’s not really important right now though?”

“Ed,” you start again, lower and calmer. “That thing said ‘Thrasher Records’. I don’t fucking know who they are but there’s fucking record in the name, babe.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. You can hear the face-splitting smile. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper, and you know he can hear the smile splitting your face, too.

You don’t change out of your sleep shorts and Judas Priest shirt. You’re at the Munsons’ in just under five minutes—which, yes, is probably a little bit criminally fast, but it’s not like Hopper’s gonna care—only to find out that Edward fucking Munson hadn’t even told his own damn father.

You give your boyfriend just enough shit for him to want to make up for it.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@bramblequill @storiesbyrhi @averagestudent03 @alovesongtheywrote @doratheignora @fnlyroe

#ravenloft #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #slow burn #smut #THIS ONE HAS SMUT #NINETEEN CHAPTER SLOW BURN BABY LETS FUCKING GO #nineteen fucking chapters man #anyways #mild d/s if you squint #this is my baby man #my magnum opus #until i make another one anyways

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ohsayit · 24 days

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Hot take (not really) about boobies, just because I feel like it lol

Reblogged something about desexualising female characters and boob size. First and most importantly, I love boobies. I always love boobies. Secondly, I am unapologetic about being horny. (Hormone brain is something else. But that's another story for another day.)

As much as I enjoy people discussing how to desexualise characters so we get more personalities and stories out of them, I enjoy horny inducing characters equally. Yea I am looking at you, Larian and your array of thirst traps.

Though, the fantasy situation where I don't think human society could ever land in would be: realise and accept the fact that our dirty brains will just be horny regardless, because we are all filthy (lol) by nature.

People's brains get turned on by different things. Boobs, butts, body hair, hair on your head, eyes, lips, jawlines, hands, fingers. Anything and everything can be a trigger for someone's sexual desire and there is nothing wrong with it. Suit yourself and let other people suit themselves.

I love boobies, truly. I only like them sexy when I feel like it. I only think about boobs in terms of sex when: (a) my mind wanders and that isn't intentional, (b) when me and a real person are at it and in the act together, or (c) I am having a good time thinking with these pixels in my own bloody head.

I don't think the human society will ever be able to leave this sex topic alone because we had too long of a history smearing and demonising it, and proceed to use it as a means to manipulate, or whatever word you fancy, people into shapes.

Wanting to take the attention off from horniness inducing character designs? Great stuff. Inducing horniness with some rando characters that has less than 45mins to total voice lines in a game where, mostly likely, this character doesn't have more than 20mins in a regular playthrough? (Yea, I am looking at you again, Larian and this one particular thirst trap Rugan.) Also great.

I think we have a bigger problem of making it a boolean situation where you are either a thirst trap and renders any and all personalities irrelevant, either steer things off the horny chart so the character can really shine. Being able to both see characters' and real people's worth beyond their sexual value, and appreciate the boners they bless the world, is a such an underrated and hopeless needed skill/ability everyone should possess.

When it's not a "thing" anymore, that usually marks the start of everyone's good time.

Sex, ladies, objectification, and all that are deep topics. I am in no mind to unleash chaos on those fronts upon myself. I simply want to appreciate both real people and pixels in all sexual and non sexual ways. Give me pretty faces, purring voices, and nice boobies, please. I would love to keep enjoying a vast variety of eye candies.

Don't believe me? Check out my gibberish about Zevlor. For some reason I won't shut up about him despite not being my dearest.

#other

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eddieslittleslutmuffin · 2 years

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✿Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic! Please remember to reblog, like, and leave a nice comment. Follow me, and maybe you’ll see more nice stuff, idk I can’t tell you what to do. But I’d appreciate it! More stuff pinned to my page! Kay bye!

pairing: professor!joesph quinn x black!oc student

warnings: 18+ oral (f)receiving and (m)receiving, public sex, dub con, age gap ( Joe is 26, and oc is 22).

a/n: um, listen…i seen this picture, and I had to like duh lmao. It took me an extremely long time to finish this, literally a month. it wasn’t supposed to be this long but here we are…enjoy :)

wc: 2k

Teacher’s Pet

“Seriously, it’s fall time, how can you be sad at a time of year like this. Everything is so beautiful, and colorful, brighten up Ally.” I walked through the never ending halls of the Arts, and Science building at NYU, we weaved our way through the sea of bodies.

“I need the sun Devina, I’m not like you, and the fall time is cold. I hate the cold. This, my friend, is just where our personalities split…accept it.” Ally pulled the lecture room door open, most students were scattered everywhere, but mainly the first four rows were filled with girls. Professor Joseph Quinn is quite popular amongst the females. Music History is an elective for most of us, which means the only reason we’re here…is because of him.

“Ally you’re good at science, what dna strand made Quinn so damn attractive?” I whisper to her as we take our seats, she giggled throwing her stuff down into the empty chair next to her. Her eyes give him a once over, studying his face.

“Girl, I wish I knew the answer to that. I mean look at him, wearing that gold chain like a slut.” I nearly choke on my water from her words, I’m too damn goofy to be friends with someone like Alyssa.

“I didn’t know the death of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart could be so funny Ms. Jones.” He scolded me, his chocolate eyes holding me in place, I always felt like he’s looking right into my soul with those eyes of his.

“It could be funny, I mean what kind of name is Wolfgang. What a mislead that must have been from the guys that jumped him.” I tried to joke, Ally sighs from beside me, an indication that I should have not said anything at all. My mouth has a habit of going against the instructions of my brain.

“Except he died from a fever.” Professor Quinn corrected me, some of the girls in the front row whispered, and giggled at me. I rolled my eyes, if only those cows knew the truth they’d be pissed.

“It was a joke, Professor.” I mumbled, I pulled my lip between my teeth as I fiddled with my pen. His eyebrow lifted upward, and he shot me a playful warning glare.

“I suggest you work on gathering better source material love.” My eyes widened, Professors Quinn's eyes flickered for a moment, and I think I was the only one that noticed that facial expression. I shrunk back in my seat, some of the other girls looked at me with grim expressions.

“No wonder you’ve been making A’s…perhaps it’s you who's the slut DJ.” Ally smirked at me knowingly, but I decided to ignore her as I kept writing my notes.

“Alright you all, don't forget it’s a quiz on everything from chapter 13, so make sure you study up.” He nodded his head to all the students bidding them a goodbye, then making his way to his desk. Taking his glasses off he throws them on the desk, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“Ms. Jones, may I see you for a moment.” I pause my movements causing Ally to bump right into the back of me, I lean backwards to make room for her to slide past me.

“Me and Ms. Jones, we got a thing going on.” She sings quietly, as she passes me.

After the very last student leaves the class, I make way down the steps to the front of the room, I press my lips together to keep myself from smiling. Joe; however, held nother back, and I always admired him for his confidence in our ability to keep our relationship private. Though dating a teacher doesn't go against any legal rules, it just…not professional I guess. Which if you as me is total bullshit, I pull my weight in my classes, I never needed to go through such lengths for a passing grade. Even if I did sleep my way to the academic top, we pay enough money to go here, someones gotta give, or receive for that matter.

“Yes Professor?” I walked up to him, keeping a distance between us. I'm more than sure no one is here, but I couldn’t help but tease him.

“Falling asleep in class, and now making jokes like it's comedy hour? Come on now babe, that’s not like you.” He grabbed my hands, pulling me into him, and placing my palms around his neck. My fingers play with his hazelnut curls, he likes it when my nails scrape his scalp.

“Oh so blame it on me when you've been the one keeping me up twice this week.” I pouted, Joseph threw his head back in a small fit of laughter. His smile lights up his whole face, and I couldn't help but giggle as well.

“Did you like that, when I choked you, when I hit it from the back. Tell the truth, you can't lie darling.” Joseph's voice dropped, and his head tilted towards me. His hands crawled under my blouse, and his nails dragged down my bare skin giving me goosebumps. My areolas prickled, and my nipples hardened. He watches me closely taking pleasure in my fight to suppress the moan on the tip of my tongue, Joseph loves to watch me struggle. Sometimes he makes me beg for it, when we first met I never peg him for the type to be so sexually dark.

“No, we shouldn’t Joey, someone could walk in on us.” I tried to plea with him, I wanted to, my pussy was already slick, but I’d rather not be the poster child for public sex.

“Follow me, there’s something I want to show you.” Joseph pulled me by the arm off towards the back of the stage, we walked for quite a while before we came to stop in front of a backstage room. He dangled a set of keys in my face, his lips falling back into a shit eating grin. This man is too slick, and just when I think I have him figured out, he surprises me with more.

“Let’s just say, some of the theater kids owe me a favor, let’s take a look shall we?” He grinned, and before I could protest he’s already turning to unlock the door. It was dark at first, except for a few makeup tables that still had its lights on.

“And God said let there be light.” Joseph flipped on a switch, I’ve never been a performer, but I’ve always dreamed of what the backstage rooms would look like during show time.

“Now where we’re we? Kissing?” He gets right to the point pressing those soft lips of his right onto mine. His mouth sucks my bottom lip into him, we both moan into each other as I easily melt into him.

“It’s your favorite flavor, cinnamon sugar. You like how I taste baby?” I whisper, his hands roughly pulling up my skirt and digging his fingers into my panties from the back. Tightly he grips both my ass cheeks pulling them apart so wide I could feel my pussy lips spread.

“Those aren’t the only lips I like to suck on Princess, you always taste amazing. When you came in today with this short skirt on, I couldn’t wait till class was over so I could eat you immediately.” He purred, I loved how forward he was with me, it’s like I never knew what was going to come out of that mouth of his.

“Please say you’re going to eat me from the back, Joey.” I begged, he sucked more of the gloss off my lips, then he pushed me towards one of the makeup tables.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He pushed my skirt up further past my hips, ripped the crotch of my thin tights open, and pushed my panties to the side. I threw my head back as he spit on me, my back arching inward, and my ass poking out more for him. He uses his fingers to coat me in his saliva, and makes sure to pay extra attention to my throbbing clit.

“Fuck yes, it feels so good baby.” I tried to moan quietly, but when Joe spread my cheeks it became difficult to contain myself. He put his whole face between my thighs, and ass. His hand roughly smacking me, his big hands gripping my cheeks tightly causing a stinging sensation that shoots right to my core

“Mmm, look at that pretty pussy, taste so fucking good.” He sucked my clit into his mouth, and continued to hold me there between his lips.

“Shit, you gone , make my pussy come baby. Fuck don’t stop, please.” I spread my legs out wider, my hips rock back and forth on his face. My hand reached back to grab onto his head, my fingers intertwined with his mess of curly hair as I grip onto them tightly.

A hot sensation moves through the pit of my stomach, a shiver rips up my spine, and clinches tightly around his two fingers he inserted deeply inside me. You could hear Joseph's muffled breathing, sloppy wet sucking, and my moans all mixed together. After pulling on my clit a few more times making it jump, and throb pleasurably. I came in his mouth, it wasn’t as long, or as intense of an orgasam as he usually gives me, but that’s the whole point of a quickie right?

“Delicious as always babe, now let’s see if you can make me come as fast.” He poked his tongue out at me, I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched him slowly unfasten his belt, and zipper.

“A little faster Joey.” I crossed my arms impatiently, he paused his movements, his eyes slowly moving up my body to my face.

“Is that, is that an attitude I hear? Because we can pack it up right now.” The corner of his mouth slightly turned upward, of course he found this funny. Instead of making a fuss, let out a huff, and get down to my knees.

“That’s a good girl, now sit quietly for Daddy.” His hand reached out to firmly grab into my chin tilting my head back, I looked up at him through my long lashes, and opened my mouth as wide as I could.

Now listen, someone with a mouth as small as mine shouldn’t be trying to suck a dick as…girthy as my Joey. However, momma ain’t raise no bitch, so I put both my hands around his shaft. I pushed him back as far back into my throat as possible, my mouth completely full, and I’m already gagging before the hip thrust.

“Oh we’re a trooper today huh love? You look so fucking good with my cock stuffed in your mouth, fuck Devina.” He pulled out of my mouth a little, I took that split sex to relax, because this is where the real shit began. He placed one hand on the top of my forhead careful to not mess up my hair, though he didn’t give not one fuck about my make up. His other hand held onto the bottom of my chin as he gripped into my whole jaw to hold me in place. He tilted his head back, tongue poked out, and eyebrow curled upwards as if he’s trying to capture the right angle for a photo.

“Hold on tight Princess.” Joseph pulled back further, and then pushed all the way back into my throat. The gagging never stopped, I’m so glad I’ve only had coffee, but I will be deathly hungry after this.

He has probably only been going at it for two minutes, but it felt like fifteen to be honest. My jaw was killing me, spit continuously spills from my mouth, down my throat, and onto my chest.

“You like that baby, you like being stuffed with my fat cock just like the greedy whore you are.” He grunted, our eye contact never broke, I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help the smile that grew onto my face.

“Fuck you’re enjoying this, such a greedy little slut. Hahah! I love this shit oh I do.” Joseph threw his head back, mouth popped open, and a wild look in his cocoa brown eyes. He was so close, I could feel the way his dick twitched, and jumped in my mouth begging for release. But I had other plans, I wanted to milk him for everything he was worth. One hand I grabbed onto his balls, and gently squeezed them, his hips bucked forward unexpectedly.

“Shit.” He cursed, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and a death grip from hell on my head. My nails grazed him from the base of his shaft to the bottom of his stomach, and back down to his balls. I wrapped my hand firmly around the base of him, and he finally decided to let me have control. I moved into a squatting position, with one hand I massaged him in a back and forth motion. My other hand rested on my thigh to help me with balance, I bobbed my head in a circular motion. All the spit that accumulated in my mouth now dripped down him, and into the floor.

My hand works on his shaft, while I suck on his tip at the same time, and when I look up to check on him…he is finished. He leaned back in the brick wall behind him, his eyes closed, and his cheeks a cherry red.

I took him at the back of my throat again, my mouth making gawking sounds. My hand squeezed his balls again, this time I grabbed him at a firmer hold.

“Devina please…” His begging only encouraged me further, this was the one true power I held over him, and I took pleasure in it. After a few more strokes his hips flexed forward, and his hands wrapped around my neck making sure I didn't move. Even after his deliciously creamy milk squirted into my mouth, and even when I swallowed…I continued to suckle on him.

“Jesus, fucking hell.” He moaned heavily, I bet his toes are curling in his shoes. If I were him, I’d be a puddle, but I guess technically he was already. His breathing is uneven, his nostrils are flared, and his back has fallen back against the wall. Fatality

“Well this has been eventful, what are we having for dinner Joey?” I stand up to adjust my clothes, I watch him slowly collect himself.

“After all that? Whatever you want babe, holy shit. Where did you learn that?” Joseph fixed himself, and picked up my jacked, helping me into it.

“I’ve been a freak Joey, I just like to keep my tricks in a bag.” I giggled, he grabbed my hand, and led me out of the backstage room. There was a janitorial crew cleaning up through the auditorium, we weren’t too worried when they saw us. There were four older people sweating through the aisles and such. They just nodded to us as we existed.

“You’re doing that again tonight by the way.” Joseph jokes, his shades down over his eyes, and squeezed my hip lightly.

“Does this mean I get an A on my next quiz?” I asked innocently, Joesph just looked at me, and exhaled. If he think I’m not getting that A he’s sadly mistaken…

#joseph quinn fanfiction #Joesph Quinn one shot #one shot #Professor!joequinn #black!oc #joseph quinn #teacher x student

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mana-sputachu · 2 years

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A lot of people keep saying that T9 will have a large time skip similar to T3 and will focus on Jin and Xiaoyu's kid/s (imagine where a thirty-something Xiaoyu gonna be) but… it doesn't make much sense. Yes, I see it in the future maybe but not so early on? Jin's storyline is nowhere near finished and it would be sad to see him rendered to nothing more than the new protagonist's dad after so many years of struggle. He's always been an iconic character but I feel like we never truly saw him shine, if you get what I mean? When he's the sole focus of the story, he's either the cool Kazuya replacement with too much package (so just Kazuya replacement), or he was basically the villain. I want to see him heal. I know Tekken is a story not about good vs evil but evil vs another, maybe lesser evil, but damn it I want to see him a little happy. And it isn't about what I want to see, it also doesn't make sense to move so fast when so much of the story is still unraveled or needs to be told, and I doubt everything will be resolved in T8. They had the ability to do large time skip back in T3 days because people weren't as attached to the characters as we are now. A time-skip will change most of the roster (again, no older females in Tekken hah ha h a :/). And the fact that the last 57 Tekkens all happened in the same year? They are clearly drawing this out. Am I talking nonsense?? I've seen this theory way too much now i just… argh sorry for talking so much about this

Okay, first of all do not apologize for your message! It's been ages since I've got so many nice and interesting messages here on tumblr, and I'm having a blast responding and brainstorming (or just fangirling) with ya all! And Tekken is one of my fave things ever that is now taking over my brain (together with KoF) again, so it's all good here! If ya all want to keep message me, please feel free to do so!❤️

And I agree with your point of view, such a sudden time skip wouldn't make sense. Jin stated multiple times ingame that he wants to eradicate his remaining family members before killing himself (JIN NO), so having such a big time skip with a new Mishima, possibly his son/daughter seems... nonsensical. Jin wants to end his bloodline as of now, so I'd put that idea aside. And we're not even sure he'll be able to really kill/beat Kazuya this time.... hell, since it's Harada we're talking about, we're not even sure Heihachi is really dead. You know he's more than capable to revive him just because the old fart has tons of fans (especially among professional/semi professional players). When the trailer dropped, me and @askkrisachan were speculating about it, thinking Harada would be more than capable to revive him a la Jinpachi. ANYWAY. You're right in saying Jin's story is yet to be done. Even if he manages to win against his clan, there's still the Devil Gene. He seems to be somewhat in control of it in that trailer but... is that true? He seemed vaguely in control even in his T4 ending, managing to summon his wings only, but we know he wasn't thanks to his T5 prologue. He also seemed somewhat able to control it at the end of T7 (after that long ass beauty sleep) but again... how much of that is true? It's something worth exploring imho... and Claudio could be used for that. Something along the line of: with Kazuya and Heihachi gone for good, Jin is trying to do something good and restoring peace helped by Lee (and Lars, reclutantly), but Claudio helds a new tournament cause he's still interested in the Devil gene. Not the most brilliant plot BUT a step away from the whole Mishima saga and villain!Jin, and towards Jin's redemption arc, fighting once again for the good reasons... and still struggling with his inner demon, because we love angst and makes sense with his character and growth. And yeah, given how they're spreading 989882332 tournaments in the span of a few months, I doubt there will be a big time skip with T9. Maybe 2-3 years, but nothing like T2/3- As you said, at the time people weren't so attached to the characters yet, they weren't fully developed yet, ending were very short and the story felt more like a puzzle to put together. Probably it was like that for the team too, testing waters while deciding in what direction they wanted to go.

Granted, it's also Harada we're talking about, the man who once in a video intervew told that the creation of Alisa and Lars was basically "here's some random words, create two new characters based on those", so he might pull something like that if he's drunk enough... but I sincerely hope not.

#tekken #tekken 8 #jin kazama #kazuya mishima #heihachi mishima #text post #replies #anonymous

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finniestoncrane · 2 years

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It's Getting Closer: A Batman (2022) RiddlerxOC / OCxOC fic 💚❓

Inspired by @sweetums0kitty (and please go read her fic that was born in the same conversation because it is literally the polar opposite to the trash I'm putting out there) and see AO3 link for tags. MINORS DNI 🔞

Hannah and Bea work together at Wayne Tower and were best friends from day one. Bea, the overprotective, loud and forward type, has to learn to control her behaviour around Hannah, who is sensitive and non-confrontational. Especially when Hannah reveals that she has a serious problem that's not only going to complicate their relationship, but will put them both in life-threatening danger. And add to that, there's a new serial killer in town and he's unhinged, mean and dressed all in green 💚❓

Themes of abandonment, family relationships, female friendships tested to limits, eventual smut (tags will be updated when I decide what kind of smut we're going for) and eventual violence.

I've never written an OC before, and for some reason I was like "lol put two of them in the same fic!" so please roast my ability to write an original character, it's the only way I'll learn.

It was 9:37am and Bea was sitting alone at the reception desk in the large entrance hall of Wayne Towers. She tapped her pen on the desk nervously, filtering through her brain for excuses should their supervisor round the corner and question if her co-worker, Hannah, had shown up yet. Hannah was constantly late. It was the only negative trait her friend, Bea, could really pinpoint. In every other way, she was absolutely wonderful. Cheerful, helpful, never one to get involved in any sort of drama. The complete opposite of Bea, who was always on time but was a chaotic mess of a human being, who usually thrived on gossip, shit-talking and generally being, a term she used to self-describe and identify, a gremlin. She figured that was what had really pulled them together, that they each gave something the other one never had.

Four months ago, Bea had been introduced to the replacement for her old colleague, Marleen. She hated Marleen. She was a lot older than Bea, and had, from the outset, treated her like a silly little girl when in reality, she was a university graduate pushing thirty. For two months, while they searched for a willing and suitable replacement for Marleen, Bea had got used to working alone and actually preferred it. Marleen made the job harder, and without her, Bea excelled. So she had been prepared to dislike the new start, regardless of who they were or what they brought to the role.

Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight. No meet-cute there at all. Hannah was brought to the desk by Mr Anders one morning and pretty much given to Bea to train. She knew it was a total bitch move, but Bea had been incredibly cold until lunch time, when a change of heart brought on by Hannah’s offer of lunch caused her to take her round to one of the better cafes in the area.

“How have you found everyone so far?”

“Oh…I haven’t met many people, but everyone seems lovely!”

“What? Even Anders? He’s an ass!”

“I don’t know much about him yet, I suppose. He seems ok though. Formal, but I’d rather that than some sleazebag.”

“Oh, you definitely don’t know him well enough yet. I’ve been victim to his wandering hands at several Christmas parties so far, and I heard from one of the women up on the fifth floor the other day that he-”

Hannah had interrupted her, politely as she could, explaining that she preferred not to discuss rumours or anything other than someone’s work ethic. Bea finished her lunch in silence and when they got back to their shared desk, had given Hannah the dreadful task of sealing envelopes for the afternoon as a sly punishment. By the time Mr Anders had called her to his office to do some paperwork, she had several paper cuts and her tongue was completely dry from sticking the envelopes closed. She lisped as she spoke to him “yeth, thir” and Bea had sniggered while she pretended to type.

A half hour later, Hannah had returned and sat silently, hands in her lap.

“He’s a disgusting asshole.”

“I knew you’d come around.” Bea had turned to smile at her, and Hannah returned it. And for the rest of the afternoon, each person who came to the desk received the Bea treatment, a background on their behaviour and whether they could be trusted in an elevator alone with you. Hannah let her guard down and laughed loud enough that the security guards at the desk along the hall kept looking up from their monitors and newspapers to scowl at the two women, giggling and shushing each other like teenagers in study hall.

It was good for Hannah to feel a bit rebellious, to unleash her opinions and not be so rigid, so meek. And it was good for Bea to recognise her gossiping habits and to hold it back every so often. They complimented each other well, and were up front about this aspect of their friendship, frequently ending their nights out at bars with slurred, sentimental mush with a palm against each other’s cheek. They gushed about the men in the office, complained about plenty of them too, walked each other home and had takeout every weekend together. Neither of them had ever had a real friend before, and the last four months had felt like a chance at being a teenager again. Sleepovers, gossip, laughing wildly until they were crying and snorting.

And Bea, being the more forceful of the two, had become fiercly protective of Hannah. Which is why, almost every morning, she would cover for her. But this morning was different. Usually, Hannah would trot in fifteen minutes or so after their shift started, her formal heels clicking on the floor as she approached the desk, trying to hide her jacket quickly and pretend she had been in since 8.50. It was now almost ten, and Hannah hadn’t even emailed or called to let Bea know she was on her way.

Bea reached below the desk to double check that she hadn’t missed any messages from Hannah, and as concern settled in when there were no notifications, the clicking of Hannah’s silly not-much-faster-than-walking pace echoed in the hall. Bea threw her phone back into her bag under the desk and shot a playful scowl at Hannah.

“Where the hell have you been, young lady? I’ve been worried sick. Do you know how many phone calls I had to take on my own?” Bea stopped with the mock telling off when she realised that Hannah wasn’t reciprocating.

“Hey, Hannah…you good?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Sorry! I meant to send a text, I’ve just been out of sorts this morning is all.”

“…Ok…well Anders hasn’t been by yet so you’re completely off the hook.”

“Good, that’s good. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bea looked at her friend, attempting to read her face, but Hannah was avoiding any eye contact and instead, was silently logging into her phone and computer and was shuffling some papers, pretending to be busy. Bea, not one for trying to coax someone out of a mood at risk of losing her own perkiness, decided to let Hannah stew in her misery for a bit. If she wanted to talk, she would do it when she was ready. And if not, Bea would…well she would still cover for her. But she might let Hannah think that Anders was onto her, just for an hour or so tomorrow morning.

As lunch time approached, Bea flipped the little sign around on their desk and spun her chair around to face Hannah.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Hannah, don’t be an ass. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Bea.”

“Hannah Mae Ranger, do not lie to me. I can tell by your face. You also haven’t said a single thing since you came in three hours ago, and while I know you’re a little brown-noser who likes to actually do the work you’re paid for, God only knows why, it’s still not like you.”

Hannah didn’t speak, and Bea felt a pang of panic fill her stomach.

“Please, Hannah. I’m getting kind of worried.”

“Ok…can we maybe…go somewhere for lunch? Just somewhere not close by.”

“Of course.”

Bea turned off the overhead lights and grabbed their jackets. Hannah’s grasp was weak as she took her coat from Bea, and she held her own arms, looking around her nervously as they walked to a bar. Bea jumped ahead and held the door open.

“Here…for lunch? We have to go back to work remember.”

“Yeah, but you need a drink. That much I can tell.”

Bea led Hannah to a table in the corner, bought them both a beer, and sat across from the small booth, watching Hannah gently rub the condensation drops from the neck of the beer bottle.

“Hannah…”

“I think something bad is happening…something weird. To me.”

So many thoughts flooded Bea’s mind. Without any indication of what might have been happening, she was instantly enraged at the idea that someone or something would cause her best friend so much distress.

“I’ll kill him.”

“My God, Bea. That’s always your go to response. You need to get a therapist or something.” Bea let it slide, it was the first time Hannah had smiled all day, and it made her think that everything might be alright, solve-able at the least. She let the silence linger, waiting for Hannah to fill it in her own time, and listened, intently and patiently, as Hannah stumbled over her words, nerves choking her.

“I think someone is following me, Bea. Or stalking me, I don’t know if those are the same thing really. I’m maybe just getting real paranoid, I haven’t seen anyone who looks familiar everywhere I go, but I’ve been getting…weird messages.” Hannah reached into her bag and pulled out four envelopes. Each one had a childish scrawl on the front, just her name in print. Bea took the letters out of each and read them at the table, trying desperately to keep her face neutral, to not scare Hannah any more than she already was, despite the sheer terror building in her stomach and the goosebumps that formed on her skin.

The first enveloped contained a birthday card, which Hannah revealed she had initially thought was a joke from an old friend from school. It read

Happy Birthday, Hannah. From, Guess Who?

The second was a piece of lined paper, ripped from a notebook. It had a riddle on it, in the same handwriting.

What has a head, a tail, is brown, and has no legs?

Hannah told Bea it had arrived the morning after she had found a penny on her door mat. It was sitting directly in the centre of the O in HELLLO. She’d thought it was a funny coincidence until she received the letter.

The third was a weird collection of symbols, Hannah had decided not to try and decode it and asked Bea to ignore it too, and Bea was more than happy to oblige. Puzzles weren’t her thing. She moved quickly to the fourth enveloped, which contained an old polaroid picture of a baby. Hannah didn’t know the baby, but it was the letter that creeped her out the most, and she grabbed the picture and tucked it away quickly, tossing all the letters into her bag.

“But, Bea…none of them had stamps. Whoever sent me those, they were in my apartment building. They put those in my mailbox. They know where I live. Tears welled in her eyes and she began to sob. Bea let her cry, holding her hand on the table, offering all the comfort she could muster in the state of shock she was now in.

“That’s not all though, I’ve been getting these weird texts too.” She passed her phone to Bea and she scrolled through the messages. Hannah hadn’t replied to any of them, but they seemed relentless.

Hello Hannah.

Hannah please reply.

Hannah could you please confirm you have received this text.

I can wait.

I’d rather not though.

Hannah?

Hannah, we should talk.

Hannah??

???

????????????????

Hannah!

Please message me back Hannah I just want to talk to you.

There were countless more, begging her to reply. They went back a month.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me before now, Hannah?”

“Bea, I don’t know. Please don’t be angry with me, I know it was silly, but I thought if I ignored it, they might stop. I’m so stupid.”

“No, no!” Bea was holding Hannah’s hand in both of hers, gripping them tight. “I just…I want to help you, and I could have helped from the start. I understand though…You don’t…you don’t think you know who is sending you all this shit?”

“Not at all. I can’t think of a single person who would have any motive for this. I can’t even think of anyone I know, or anyone I’ve interacted with, who would even be the type to want to do this.”

Bea could believe that. While she was often a person who was often seen as grating, or confrontational, Hannah was instantly everyone’s sweetheart. She dealt with most of the complaints or angry phone calls, there was just something about her than calmed a person down and had them apologising. She’d even managed to win over Bea. It was entirely inconceivable that anyone would want to scare her like this. And, while Bea entertained the idea that this might be someone who was obsessed with Hannah, in love with her from a distance, she couldn’t be sure this was the case either. Hannah was so approachable. She was a freak magnet. They rarely went anywhere without someone smiling at her and getting Hannah’s signature grin back. She was too polite for her own goodness. But while a normal person might receive a smile and come over to chat, another might take it as an invite, warp it into something else in their mind. None of this was comforting though, so Bea kept it to herself.

“How about tonight, we swap phones? I don’t want you stressing over these messages but I want you to be safe. I’ll take your phone, and you take mine. You can still call me, well you…”

Hannah looked up at Bea, her eyes expressing her overwhelming gratefulness at the suggestion.

“And you can watch your stupid YouTube videos, just fuck my algorithm up, huh?”

Hannah laughed again, music to Bea’s ears. They finished lunch and went back to work. Hannah managed to maintain a level of normality throughout the rest of the day, thankful to have the relief of getting it off of her chest. Bea, however, remained cautious, terrified for her friend and promising to resolve this for her before anything happened to her.

At the end of the day, any calm that Hannah had built up disappeared instantly as she realised she would have to go home, and Bea could tell from the way she lingered at the desk, putting things into and then taking them out of her bag.

“Hey, if you want you can come over to mine tonight? No pressure, and I don’t think you need to at all.” She was lying. Bea absolutely knew that she wouldn’t sleep for worrying about Hannah, and with good reason. This weirdo knew where she lived. But, he wouldn’t find her at Bea’s apartment. “We could get dinner from that pasta place you like so much?”

Hannah considered the option, her face flooded with emotions and changing so quickly it was hard to nail any one of them down. She settled on a smile though, thankful for the invite. No further words were needed between them. Bea grabbed Hannah’s arm and they left Wayne Tower for the subway, confident even in the streets of Gotham because they had each other.

#dano riddler #the riddler #dano!riddler #edward nashton #riddler fanfic #riddler 2022 #paul dano riddler #the batman 2022 #the batman 2022 fic #the batman 2022 fanfic #the riddler fanfic #the riddler fanfiction #my shit #finnie writes

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gab-has-adhd · 1 year

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i was the last anon... omg u replied!! did not expect that tbh 😭😭 & yeah i don't *actually* hate illumi, in fact i think it'd be near impossible atp because. a) he's way too relatable + b) i adore his character, and his family and his everything bc of how complex he is. he's amazing. stunning. jaw-dropping. horrendous. terrible. terrifying. all at once & I Appreciate Him So Much (tm) for it :]

also speaking of illumi... i am so interested in kikyo. like ik a lot of people in the hxh fandom find her irritating (she is sometimes) but she's a mother too - specifically the zoldyck's mother - and i think as a character, she would have such an in-depth backstory that we haven't even gotten into yet (at least from where i'm currently at rn in the manga lmfao.. manifesting the future chapters give us more abt her bc i Need to know everything about her history in meteor city 🙏)

another thing abt ur reply - UR SO RIGHT ABT WANTING TO BEHAVE LIKE ILLUMI 🙁🙁 as someone who relates to his trauma & thought process, me and him cld not be more different fr. i am too Fiery. i get into too much Trouble for losing my temper at the Worst times. illumi tho?? he looks emotionless (even tho he's not) but i need that kind of detachedness to get around w my daily life 😭 god made me traumatized but not cold as ice How is this fair Please i need a life refund T___T

im so sorry omg i keep writing essays in these asks 🙁 anyways i also hope u have a great morning/day/evening!!! its almost 12am i need to get back to studying for exams LMAOO hope ur doing well tho (drink water bff)

Hi again anon! 🌸 thank you for sending me another ask ufufufu it's almost 5 am for me but it seems I'm going to hae a sleepless night aGAIN for some reasons gnsngmsmcj

Good luck for your exams! I sincerely hope you'll be successful <3 and please never worry about sending me essays hahaha I love it very much 💕

I agree so much with you on Kikyo! I am usually not very big on female characters for some reasons but kikyo is so cool! I need to know more about her! I like her fucked up personality though lmaooo she is a Zoldyck indeed 🙏 like yes she IS irritating but it's because she literally is the MOTHER in a FAMILY OF ASSASSINS I think at this point every Zoldyck is allowed to be irritating LOL

I truly hope Togashi will give us more about her. She's from Meteor City after all, who knows what crazy things happened to her back there! Also I desperately need to know how she met Silva and how they fell in love.

Where are you currently in the manga? Just wanna make sure I don't drop any spoiler material if you send me more asks ufufu!

ALSO OMG I FEEL YOU SO MUCH ABOUT NOT BEHAVING LIKE ILLUMI. Like sure he probably behaves like this because he was deeply traumatized but... look I have ADHD and BPD, nature wasn't very nice with me. The combination makes me extremely impulsive, extremely emotive and very easily angered. My behavior is basically an emotional rollercoaster LMAOOO I just wish I was able to keep a cold face like Illumi 😭 who knows maybe his emotions are wild in his brain but at least he's able to completely conceal them. This is a skill I would appreciate having.

Instead my traumatized dumb ass self decided to gift me the ability to hide my upset-ness until I eventually explode. Which is. A pretty unhealthy behavior LMAO but I'm working on it :)))

Who knows, maybe one day Illumi is going to explode too 😶 not saying I actually want him to explode but somehow I think I would get so emotional if it ever happend to him. Like. Illumi breaking down nervously and. IDK crying maybe. This sounds wildly out of character but wow...

#gab replies #anon #hunter x hunter #hunterxhunter #hxh #kikyo #kikyo zoldyck #illumi #illumi zoldyck #zoldyck #zoldyck family #*sends support for exams*#BPD #ADHD #I am so emotionally unstable lmao

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slowlobotomy · 2 years

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1.) Being Mistress Ava’s Slave (1 Day Example)

Being Mistress Ava’s “house bitch” is no easy task. But I imagine myself long, long ago losing my ability to choose this fate…

Part 1. Waking Up

My mornings begin when the noise in my headphones stops…The silence triggers an internal pang, a shock, like a bolt of lightening runs through my body…it starts to writhe and (yet again) tears form in my eyes…

And like a cocaine addict suddenly needing a hit, my eyes break open…bloodshot and heavy…

This is my alarm clock…

You see, one of Mistress’ training methods she has been employing more and more recently on me is CONSTANT AUDIO FUCKING…So with the exception of receiving live orders from her or BF…I am to have my headphones strapped and locked around my face…AT ALL TIMES.

No thinking…just listening…brainwashing…and obeying…

The area between my ears…becomes her playground…

Mistress creates playlists to bombard my skull…Sometimes it is a mixture of recordings from her NF site. Many other times, she will record customs for me to focus on throughout the day.

Depending on her mood and training goal, sometimes she will just select 1 file, and put it on loop…

And when she is displeased…she doesn’t hold back…

I get scared, and start to tremble…and I can’t stop but start crying like a little girl whom just had her birthday cake crushed before her eyes…tears flood down my cheeks…

I have stated to Mistress Ava multiple times that I can’t take what’s about to occur…I HATE IT…I told her I HATE IT.

HATE.

IT.

But unfazed, she stands above me, as I lie on my knees, and gives me a mocking “Boo Hoo, you shouldn’t have pissed me off, fucktoy.”

I tell her that I am sorry, but please not this…anything but this…She wasn’t supposed to use this info as a weapon like this is…But she took the power of decision making away from me long ago…(But it is a lesson I continue to struggle with…)

“You just don’t learn your lesson, do you?” she replies, “Boo hoo, fucktoy.”A wicked smile creeping across her lips, “Never. Tell. Me. A. Secret.”

And with that she places the headphones over my ears, and snaps that locking strap around my jag snug, locking it on the last possible clip…

Now, even if I want to, I can’t take them off…

Tears keep coming out as I realize that it’s now… “Shania Twain Time.”

As she presses the play button, I know that for the next week, I will be forced to listen to Shania Twain, 24/7.

Awake. Asleep. It doesn’t matter.

I once told Mistress I hate female vocalist country music artists (like Shania Twain, Kelly Underwood, Reba McEntire, Dixie Chicks, Mindy McCready, Sara Evans, etc.).

And sure enough, she immediately added Shania Twain into her punishment repertoire for me.

What’s scary is that there are times when Mistress will call me over, and switch the audio to Shania Twain EVEN if I have been well behaved… And I am getting more worried, because these “random” incidences are occurring more and more often. Whenever they do occur, she always laughs so hard…she points her immaculate fingers directly in my face….and I can see her mouth moving…I wonder what she is saying…but I can’t hear her…only Shania Twain fills my ears until the headphones are unstrapped.

Protocol for some slaves with some mistresses is…mandatory restraints…hands, legs, mouth…mouth…(Mistress Ava specializes in fucking up a slave via this orifice…)

But not me…I don’t “need” regular physical restraints…Don’t get me wrong, they are still regularly used…but not really needed…

The reason…?

She already has me permanently restrained…Except, it is restraint from the inside out…

Mistress currently keeps me on a strong does of meds, which shutdown my sexuality and keep me zombified and lethargic. PERMANENTLY.

Among other things, they ensures my brain is smothered in serotonin constantly…my testosterone BLOCKED…

In a constant state of moderate bewilderment and confusion…my energy…my freewill is forever zapped…depleted…

The meds do allow me to still operate and function…but just barely…and every moment…

IS.

STRUGGLE.

If I am lucky, I can function at bare minimum levels…but most importantly, it has become IMPOSSIBLE for me to act without her direction…

Like a door socket that must stand by idly, until Mistress inserts her key…and opens up her own set of directions for me for the day…

She knows this is one of her key control methods over me…

Making me be dependent…on her…like an addict to a drug…always wanting another hit…

She has told me…multiple times…that she will force me to take these meds forever…

Unfortunately, I don’t doubt her at all…

The combination of meds+audio training+clips, customs, pics., etc…they all point to the same path…the same future…my slow…fucking… lobotomy…

To be continued.

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female-focus-sexology · 8 months

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Serotonin and sexuality

Did you know that women have more serotonin receptors in their brains? Why is that important, you may ask. Well, a increase number in receptors in the post-synaptic neurons means that more serotonin is required to start the depolarization and the neuronal signaling. In clinical, that means women have a greater risk of depression and are in general less responsive to SSRI medication, but in up to 50% of females treated develope some kind of sexual disorder, such as hypoactive sexual disorder or anorgasmia. This in turn can put stress in them, as they are dampening their ability to enjoy themselves or to enjoy being in a sexual activity with their partner/s. That can impact negatively their relationships, which is in itself a risk factor for depression and severity of their depression.

Also, it doesn't help that estradiol increases the sensitibity of the serotonin 1A receptors, mostly involved in inhibiting sexual desire and arousal. If that is the case for you, or you are worried to start pharmacological treatment for this reason, may I advice to consult with your health provider so they can change your medication, some SSRI's are less problematic than others, but if that's not working, evaluate with your provider changing the medication to one that has also dopaminergic effects, or add a dopaminergic agent to your regiment. There is also evidence for the use of Melanocortin II agonist, although it may not be widely available. Some use of stereoids may also be helpful, depending in your specific situation.

Is worth mentioning that, in the case in medication used in male erectyle dysfunction, such as tadalafil or sildenafil, it can help to increase the blood flow to your genitals, improving lubrication, but they have no effect on libido or the ability to reach orgasm, so, unless you have a very specific condition, they're not helpful, and even in the cases that they may be helpful, the use of lubricant must be the first approach.

Please note that this is only information that may help you further the communication with your health provider. I can´t give advice in your situation as you're not my patient and this is not a clinical environment. Always consult with your provider before changing any aspect of your therapeutic protocol.

Sources:

Kammerer-Doak, D. & Rogers, R. G. (2008). Female sexual function and dysfunction. Obstetrics and gynecology clinics of North America 35 169-183

Rezzani, R. ; Franco, C. & Rodella, L. F. (2019). Sex differences of the brain and their implications for personalized therapy. Pharmacologycal Research 141 429-442

#academia #women #science #ssri #depression #female sexuality #pharmacology #physiology

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stardewlily · 9 months

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Chapter Six of My Everlasting Light

A Stardew Valley fan fiction about the relationship between Sebastian and my farmer, Lily.

Synopsis: Upset ensues at the village egg hunt when Abigail's jealousy runs riot

Cast: Original Female Character, Sebastian, Emily, Sam, Abigail, Jas, Vincent, Mayor Lewis, other villagers mentioned

Contents: Friendship Dynamics, Village Festival, Newly Established Relationship, Drama, Romance, Love, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mean Abigail - please do not interact if this would offend you!

Egg Hunt

The town square was a throng of activity and Lily felt more than a little overwhelmed. She was used to maybe one or two people wandering about on a normal day but now the entire village was out in force and Pelican Town seemed like a completely different place. A cluster of tables and chairs had been placed café style outside Pierre's store, two buffet tables laden with food stood off to one side, Gus, the saloon owner and local chef, beaming with pride as people sampled his numerous offerings. Pierre himself, ever the opportunist, had set up an open air stall selling various festival themed wares, most of which seemed to be very bunny biased. Potted flowers stood all around the perimeter of the square, no doubt courtesy of Evelyn, who was at that moment pushing her grumpy husband along in his wheelchair. The old man could be heard loudly complaining about the inanities of a festival solely dedicated to eggs and Lily couldn't help but smile to herself.

"George makes that same complaint every year," said Emily, her best friend, as the two of them made their way through the milling villagers towards the town centre. For some reason Emily wanted her picture taking in the bunny shaped photo board. Lily had, as yet, failed to talk her out of it.

"How ya doing, hun?" Emily asked when Lily failed to respond. She knew that Lily found large crowds difficult and wanted to make sure she was all right.

"Hmm?" Lily was busy looking for Sebastian and flushed a little when she realised Emily had been talking to her and she hadn't answered. "Oh, sorry Em. I was distracted. Don't worry, I'm okay."

She finally caught sight of him standing off to the side with his friends Sam and Abigail. He saw her at the same time and smiled over at her. She flushed again. He had an uncanny ability to do that to her with the greatest of ease. One look from that man could pretty much cause her brain to shut down completely and as for when he touched her and kissed her… Her flush deepened and she looked down. Argh, this wouldn't do. They'd only been together a week and had decided to keep things quiet for a while, neither one wanting to share their new relationship with what could be a very nosy town until they felt more settled. Therefore, her blushing at the mere sight of him might be a bit of a giveaway.

"Lily," he called her name and she swooned at the sound of it on his lips. "Why don't you come on over? We could use some fresh conversation, Abigail's being a total egg bore."

She looked up at Emily, who already had her head pushed through the hole and was now part bunny, part woman. "Oh, you go ahead," Emily waved her hand from behind the board. "I've gotta wait for my photo anyway."

Lily smiled and made her way over to Sebastian and his two friends. The aforementioned Abigail was scowling as she approached, seeming to be upset at Sebastian's words and she turned that scowl full on Lily as the young woman approached. Sam, on the other hand, gave her a wide, welcoming smile. It wasn't quite enough to combat Abigail's malice however and Lily felt suddenly timid. She had tried hard to befriend the goth girl but ever since she had found Lily in Seb's basement one night she seemed to have developed an instant and prolonged dislike of her.

"I suppose you think you've got a chance in the egg hunt," she looked at Lily disdainfully then held up her hand to inspect her purple fingernails. "Well, think again. I always get the prize and I'm not about to let you win just because it's your first time."

Lily saw Sebastian roll his eyes. "Yoba, Abigail, it's just a game," he said impatiently. "You're the only one who takes it so seriously. Why don't you lighten up and let the kids have a chance for once?"

Abigail glared at him. "You shouldn't talk to me like that."

"And you shouldn't talk to Lily that way either."

Sam's sneeze exploded into the mix. "Gah, sorry guys," he drew out a brightly spotted handkerchief and blew his nose vociferously. Abigail glared at him too. Lily was starting to think it was her default expression.

"Oh Yoba, not your allergies again," she groaned. "Don't you ever remember your tablets, you dork? Ugh, I'm going to get some food!" She stalked away angrily.

Sam chuckled behind his hanky. "Always gets rid of her," he said. "Abby can't stand to hear me blowing my nose."

"You did that on purpose?" Lily asked, looking at him with a mixture of admiration and incredulity. It was certainly a good way of defusing a deteriorating conversation.

"Sure did," he grinned. "I remembered my allergy medication this year, but she doesn't know that."

"Why are we friends with her again?" Seb asked with another roll of his eyes. "Thanks for getting rid of her, Sam."

"No problem, dude. She's in one of her spiky moods today apparently!"

Lily was trying very hard not to stare at Seb as his gaze turned back to her. "Sorry, Lily," he said softly, his eyes unwavering on hers, desire dancing in their liquid depths. "There was no need for her to snap at you like that."

"It's okay," Lily said, pretty sure she was blushing again in reaction to that look in his eyes. Oh, she wanted to kiss him so badly. Why had they decided to keep this a secret? "I guess she's just a bit competitive."

Sam snorted at that. "A bit competitive? Hah, I swear sometimes I think she's gonna start elbowing the kids out of the way to get to the eggs first!"

Emily came up at that point, waving her photo excitedly in the air. "What's that?" she interjected. "Are we talking about Abigail's relentless need to win the egg hunt every year?"

"We are indeed," Sam turned to her. "And might I say, that is the best bunny photo I've ever seen?"

"You may, my good man," Emily laughed and passed the photo around to much amusement.

"What does she win?" Lily asked as she handed the photo back to her friend.

"A straw hat," Seb said, completely straight-faced.

Lily turned to him. "Really?" she asked. "Just a hat?"

"Yep," Sam backed him up, "You heard the man, a hat… she gets that bent out of shape over a hat. The same one, every year."

Lily giggled, she couldn't help it. Seb looked at her, put a hand on her shoulder then started laughing too.

"It's not even a good one either!" Sam guffawed, "I think Mayor Lewis pinches it off Pierre's scarecrow every year!" That cracked up Emily too and soon they were all laughing.

Lily held onto Seb's arm and let her laughter free, it felt so good to touch him, even as simply as this.

She didn't notice Abigail returning behind them, carrying her plate of food from the buffet and looking at her with daggers in her eyes.

Lily stood in the small circle of competitors waiting for the egg hunt to begin. There were only two children in the town, Vincent, Sam's little brother, and Jas, the orphaned charge of Marnie who ran the ranch to the south of Lily's farm. Both of them bounced excitedly as the Mayor rambled on with his little speech, swinging their baskets from side to side and chattering about who would get the most eggs out of the two of them. Abigail stood off to one side, still with her seemingly permanent scowl fixed on her face, while Sam stood next to Lily, grinning indulgently at his little brother.

"And now, is everybody ready?" the Mayor finally raised his arm in the air. "Alright kids, start hunting!"

Vincent and Jas immediately charged off, shrieking with excitement. Sam raised his basket in Lily's direction and grinned. "Good luck, Lily," he said. "Try not to take it too seriously," he quirked his eyebrows meaningfully at Abigail who gave him a sour look and headed off in the opposite direction to everyone else.

"I'll try," Lily said with a little smile and he laughed and patted her on the shoulder before heading off after Abigail with a rowdy shout, much to the goth's chagrin.

"Try to find the egg I painted just for you, Lily!" Emily called out. "I knitted a little scarf for it, so you'll know it's mine."

Lily laughed and waved at Emily before heading off on her own. She figured she'd have the best chance of finding the most eggs if she didn't follow everyone else, but really, she didn't mind, it was just fun to be part of the community. It had been a long time since she felt she belonged anywhere.

They had ten minutes in which to find as many eggs as they could. It didn't seem like long and she hurried around the corner onto Willow Lane, wondering if she would find any near the river. As she neared Sam's house she heard a noise from the backyard and decided to go check on it just to make sure the kids weren't having any difficulties. She gasped when Sebastian appeared from behind the washing hanging on the line and quickly pulled her into the yard.

"Seb..." she shivered as he backed her up against the kitchen wall.

"Lily," he leaned in on one arm. "You don't know how hard it's been to stop myself from touching you all afternoon."

Her heart pounded as he pressed closer to her, raising his free hand to lift her chin, dark eyes utterly mesmerizing.

"Should we be doing this?" she squeaked. "What if someone sees?"

"Do you care?" he breathed, lips tantalisingly close to hers.

She didn't. Right then she didn't care one bit. She wanted him so badly she couldn't stand it. She dropped her basket, reached up, slid her hands into his hair and tugged him down into a passionate kiss.

She moaned as his hands dropped down, gliding slowly over her breasts before settling in the curve of her waist and pulling her against him. She let her own hands slide down his back, revelling in his warmth, his firmness, the feel of his heart pounding in time with hers, loving the soft groan he made as their kiss deepened.

A small noise behind them made them both jump and they broke apart guiltily, turned to see Abigail coming around the corner.

How much had she seen? Sebastian frowned and Lily flushed.

"What are you two up to?" Abigail glowered suspiciously, eyeing them for what seemed an endless moment before turning on her heel and leaving the same way she'd come. "You're not allowed to help her, you know," she called over her shoulder.

Lily heaved a trembling sigh. "Do you think she saw?"

"I don't know," Sebastian stared thoughtfully after the retreating girl then turned to Lily and, with a quick grin, dropped an egg into the basket she had picked back up. "I like breaking the rules," he winked at her. "Try not to worry about it too much. I'll see you after the festival, okay?" He kissed her gently, stroked her face and smiled before walking back the same way Abigail had gone.

Lily stared after him, heart pounding, still wanting him.

Damn Abigail, ruining the moment like that.

She looked in her basket. Maybe I will try to beat her after all, she thought wryly.

The ten minutes were almost up and Lily surveyed her basket with some small sense of pride. She had done pretty well all things considered, she had nine eggs and had even found the one Emily had painted specially for her. As her friend had said, her egg had a little multi-coloured scarf wrapped around what could be considered its neck. She smiled to herself. Maybe she'd deny Abby her hat this year. She would much rather have spent her time with Seb though.

She hurried towards the town square, gaze set on the Mayor who she could see in the distance looking at his watch, one minute more and he'd be raising his whistle to his lips. She was so focused on reaching the finish line at the centre that she didn't see Abigail until something caught her feet and she fell to the ground, basket flying from her hands, a shocked cry escaping her lips.

The eggs she had gathered spun through the air and smashed to the ground, she watched as Emily's egg turned into a splat and felt like crying.

"Cheater!" She heard a shrill little voice call out and looked up to see an indignant Jas come running towards her, Vincent close behind, a dismayed expression on his round face.

"We saw you," the little girl cried. "Didn't we, Vinny?"

"We did, we did," Vincent cried. "Miss Abigail tripped Miss Lily before she could cross the finish line. Thas' cheating." His face fell into a sad little frown. "And it's mean too."

Lily looked up as Sam joined them.

"Hey, it's not my fault if she falls over her own feet," Abigail said in response to his accusing stare.

"No one likes a cheater, Abby," Sam said, his jovial face unhappy for once. "I thought I was joking when I said you'd start elbowing kids aside to win. Looks like I was closer to the mark than I thought." He turned to the two children who were hopping from foot to foot and chanting "Cheater, cheater," over and over again.

"What say we pool our eggs, kids? If we put them all in Lily's basket she should have enough to win, don't you think?"

"Yay!" said the kids. "We'll let Lily win, that'll teach the cheater!"

Lily watched in disbelief as the children deposited their eggs in her basket and then Sam added his own on top before extending an arm to help her up from the ground. She was still so unused to people being kind to her that she felt like crying again.

"You can't do that!" Abigail objected. "That's…"

"Cheating?" Seb's voice finished her sentence and Lily looked up to see him running towards them, Emily not far behind him.

"We saw what you did, Abigail," Emily said, coming to a halt beside her friend. "For shame, it's just a game," she turned and scooped up her sorry looking egg. "And you broke my egg, too. I'll have to give him a proper burial you know."

"Are you okay?" Seb looked at her, concern in his eyes, joining Sam in helping her to her feet.

"I think so," she looked down at her bloody knees. "Although I do feel a bit like a little kid who's just fallen down in the playground," she laughed ruefully.

"Doesn't anyone care about my egg?" Emily wailed behind them.

"Has the mayor blown his whistle yet?" Seb asked.

"Not yet," Emily said, having made a sudden and remarkable recovery. "Why?"

"Lily's gonna win this," he said with a quick grin.

"Eeep?" Lily squeaked in surprise as he picked her up, basket and all, and, smiling down at her, ran her the last few yards into the square and over the finish line just as the mayor blew his whistle.

"Yeah!" Sam pumped his fist into the air as he, the kids and Emily followed behind. "You lose Abigail!"

The mayor muddled his way through the crowd of villagers clamouring around the finish line, trying to restore some order.

"Well now," he said, as Sebastian carefully set Lily down. "This year's egg hunt has certainly been a little irregular, but I think under the circumstances it only fair to declare Lily the victor."

He whisked out the winner's hat and placed it ceremoniously on Lily's head.

"Congratulations, Lily... and Abigail…" he turned to the glowering goth. "We'll overlook your behaviour this once. I think this loss will be punishment enough for you."

Vincent and Jas began to bounce up and down in glee and people started talking all at once again. It was quite the cacophony and Lily reached up to pull the hat farther down on her head. All she wanted right now was to go home. This had all gotten to be a bit too much for her.

She wondered if all Pelican Town's festivals were this hectic.

"Don't you worry, Lily. My bro Sebastian'll take good care of you." Sam grinned as Lily and Sebastian stood at the head of the road leading back to her farm. He had a giant pink bunny under his arm. Lily had insisted on buying one for both of the children as a thank you for helping her win the egg hunt, seeing as she obviously couldn't share the hat. Sam, on seeing theirs, had insisted on having one too, and so she had dutifully bought him one and handed it to him in all seriousness.

Sebastian looked askance at the offending rabbit.

"You sure about that, bud?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What, that you'll look after her?"

"No… " Sebastian said dryly. "The rabbit…"

"Are you kidding?" Sam exaggeratedly waggled the pink toy at him. "This is the best thing ever. Well, maybe not better than seeing that butt-hurt look on Abigail's face when she lost, but close." He laughed uproariously. "Best egg hunt I've ever attended. Made my year!"

"You do realise she's gonna spend all week complaining about this, don't you?"

"Ah, she's always complaining about something," Sam said with another grin. "What's the difference? Anyway, me and my new friend are gonna go have fun ripping on Abby for the rest of the afternoon." He waved at the two of them and turned back towards the ongoing festivities. "See you later, dudes!"

Sebastian lifted a hand after his departing friend. "Later…" he turned to Lily when Sam was out of earshot. "You okay to walk, baby?"

Lily nodded and he smiled and took her hand. She winced and he looked at her quizzically then turned it over. It was scraped red raw from her fall. Even though Harvey had cleaned everything up it obviously still hurt her. He kissed it gently, wishing uncharitably that he could push Abigail down and see how she liked it.

"She really did a number on me, huh?" Lily forced a brave little smile.

"Come on," he said, sliding his arm around her waist. "Let's get you home and I'll make you forget all about your battle wounds."

Lily sighed and leaned into him as they began the walk back. He pulled her closer to his side, loving the fact that they were now alone together and he could finally hold her without worrying about what anyone might think.

"Sebby?"

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Does Abigail not like me or something?"

Sebastian didn't really know what to say. Abigail had certainly been pretty mean to Lily today. Maybe she had seen what they were doing behind Sam's house. It would explain a lot.

"It's just… she's always been pretty cold to me, but today she tripped me on purpose, then looked like she absolutely hated me when you picked me up and when you said you were going to walk me home I thought she was actually going to kill me."

He sighed. "I think she might be jealous."

"Jealous?"

He looked down at her. She was studiously observing the ground.

"Yeah, I think… well... Sam says she has a crush on me and I guess she saw us today and got jealous."

"Oh…"

Her voice was tiny. A pause. "Should I be worried?"

Sebastian laughed, he couldn't help it. The very idea. Him and Abigail. "Hell no! I mean, she is a friend, but she's just a kid really, and as you saw from today, she could do to grow up a bit!"

Lily said nothing and he looked down at her again, suddenly concerned. She surely didn't think…?

She gazed up at him and he was surprised to see tears rolling down her cheeks. Seriously? She was crying?

He stopped walking and turned her to face him.

She reached up to him, fingers tangling in his hair, eyes full of fear and yearning. "I'm just so scared of losing you, Sebby. She… she's so pretty and sometimes I… I feel like I just don't deserve you."

Her words shocked him to his core. How often had he thought that very same thing about her?

"Lily," he pulled her close, stroked her face, smoothing away her tears. He still couldn't believe that he could touch her as much as he wanted. "You really don't know just how much you mean to me, do you?" He smiled tenderly. All the things he'd wanted to say to her in the past. Now was the time to say them. All of them.

He locked his eyes with hers, holding her face in both hands. "I love you, Lily. I loved you from the very first moment I saw you. I live for your smile, your laughter, your sweet, beautiful face. You're my sunshine, baby, the reason I get up the morning. I will never want anyone but you for as long as I live." He kissed her, softly, gently. "So, no. You don't need to be worried. Not now, not ever."

Lily sobbed and flung her arms around his neck and he laughed and picked her up, swinging her into the air before bringing her back down and kissing her again, this time long, deep and lingering, because she was the only person he wanted in his life and as long as he had her he had everything he needed.

Read Chapter Seven

Cute little page dividers by @chachachannah / Boring old plain green ones by me!

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