#and CHRIST if I see one more post saying that if ‘all you got out of a piece of media is haha couple go brr then you should die’

[vcnillazelda]

tattoos

simon riley x reader

summary: you colour simon’s tattoos during a briefing.

tags: secret relationship, soap being soap, ghost and soap’s bromance bc they need more content together, tattoos, me going feral over simon’s tattoo bc slfnndkdhsbrkci, rudy is reader’s bestie, alejandro is grumpy, he’s just not a morning person, gaz is just there

wow 2 posts in one day 😍

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simon’s sat down, eyes scanning over the room. price was waiting for everyone to get in the briefing room and settle, reading over his notes which gave simon a brief time to settle in. sitting in crowded rooms always made him anxious, even though he knew everyone in the room, it was still nerve-racking. you take a seat next to him, giving him a wide and friendly smile as soap takes the seat on his left. rudy, being close to you, sits on your other side and simon gives him a short nod. the two weren’t close, rudy always got uncomfortable around simon, but you two were best friends so simon tried coming off more friendly. the spanish man smiles awkwardly, looking at his lap as he fiddles with his pen. you snatch up the highlighters in the middle of the table, as per usual, and start doodling slightly on your notes.

soon enough, price starts the briefing, yet simon’s watching you. you’re drawing a little frog, colouring it in with the highlighter, then you glance up at johnny and add on a little mohawk. simon smiles at the sight of the soapfrog drawing. you carefully peel the sticky note from the pad, pushing it over to soap who accepts it and smiles a little, trying not to laugh. on the note below it, you start doodling a little stereotypical sheet covered ghost. simon rolls his eyes, looking back up at price, who sounds tired considering it’s 6 am. the feeling of a pen on his forearm makes simon jump a little, and he looks down. you’re colouring his tattoo with expert precision. the flames decorating his tanned skin are now highlighted orange, and simon moves his arm a little over to allow you more room. you smile at him, and his heart skips a beat. he sits completely still, as if he moved anymore than breathing would disrupt your work. you shuffle a little next to him, nudging your chair closer so you had more room to colour him in. eventually, you tap his wrist and he flips his hand over, pretending to roll his eyes as you start on the other side of his hand. the feeling of the cool tip of the highlighters was rather calming to him, albeit the smell was making him a little dizzy.

the briefing is taking forever due to some technical difficulties and everyone’s getting restless. price had stepped out to get someone more suited with tech, and you had moved on from highlighting simon’s tattoos to doodling upon the back of his hand. johnny notices, smiling a little. “can i have a go, l.t?” he asks teasingly, making alejandro and rudy glance up from their phones, gaz had his head down on the table and you all assumed he was asleep. “no.” simon deadpans, and you snort a little. “aw, but l.t-“ johnny is cut off by a glare, and he raises his hands in fake surrender. “draw on these, johnny.” you say, pushing your sticky notes over. johnny nods, drawing a poor image of you, rudy, simon and alejandro as stick figures. simon glances down at his hand, you’d drawn a tiny version of him, it was cutesy and he adored it. (he silently makes a note to take a picture of it later in private so it wasn’t lost forever). you had also drawn a cat wearing his mask as well as a little bar of soap next to the cat. “you have a notepad, y/n.” alejandro tells you, and you nod. “i know.” you reply, voice rather innocent considering alejandro was speaking to you as if you were a child drawing on the walls.

“ghost isn’t a notepad.” alejandro scolds, and you shrug. “he doesn’t mind, do you simon?” you smile at him, and he shakes his head. “look at his forearm.” you grin, holding his hand up so everyone in the room could see. “jesus christ…” rudy mutters, hiding a laugh behind his hand as he looks at alejandro’s unimpressed expression. the older man sighs, running a hand over his face. “look.” soap says, showing his tiny drawing of the crew. “aw that’s so cute.” you laugh, and johnny grins. “is that meant to be me?” alejandro asks, accepting the drawing from the sergeant. he shows rudy who laughs fully. “you’re built like a square, coronel.” rudy teases, pointing to the little angry face on the drawing. “i can see that, pendejo.” alejandro gently whacks rudy with the notepad, and he laughs more. you’re laughing as well, and simon presses his knee into your leg. you look at him and smile, hand slipping under the desk to rest upon his thigh. your fingers run soft circles over his pant leg, massaging the muscle. simon practically relaxes right there, leaning into you a little more. it wasn’t that obvious, so you nudge him back playfully. “how do you have so much energy in the morning.”

“me and rudy have been up all night, we’re both piped up on 12 energy drinks- each.” you reply, smiling brightly. “jesus christ… get some sleep tonight, yeah?” simon tells you, his hand squeezing yours. “i can’t when you’re not there.” you respond, frowning. simon feels his heart squeeze. “i’ll see what i can do.” he mutters, the room falling silent as price steps back in. “right, shall we carry on?” the captain asks, and everyone mutters in agreement. gaz raises his head groggily, letting out a soft “wha’..?” price rolls his eyes, continuing with the briefing. simon sits silently, hand encasing yours. occasionally, he glances down at the doodles on his skin. he was truly in love with you and all the weird little antics you had harboured over the years. no matter what, the two of you would always belong to each other, and you could always draw upon his arms.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw ghost #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #:// 🍨 rudyyyy <33 #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 call of duty

[darealsaltysam]

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

[whiskeynwriting]

Good Soldier

Captain John Price x Female Reader

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Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Age gap (20ish years - it���s so delicious), secret relationship, alcohol consumption (Price is drunk), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, brief spitting, mentions of oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting. 

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A/N: Drunk daddy Price babyyyy YESSS

Also, ty SO much to @thesleepingmusicneek for proof-reading this. I wrote this at 3am on a random whim and it was embarrassing how many errors it originally had🥲😂

Also also, I completely forgot to post this on Monday 🙃

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Captain John Price Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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It’s early in the morning when he wakes you, rough hands pawing at the covers and soon your chest. At first, you’re not sure what’s going on; all you can feel is the weight of his body on top of you, the rough scratch of his facial hair rubbing over your face and neck. His back arches forward, curling around you, arms strong in their embrace. 

“Price?” Your voice is quiet and wispy, rough from sleep.

“Don’t call me that.” Comes his immediate response. “You know my name.”

And you smile at that, a sinister little smirk he can’t see through the darkness. He’s too busy pushing his lips against your cheek to notice it, anyway. 

“Sorry, sir.” That smirk is everlasting, body resting against the mattress as John works his way to your bare skin. “Didn’t realize it was that kind of moment.”

“Why the fuck else would I be on top of you?” He’s snarling, finally ripping your top from your body so he can grab a fistful of your tit. Breathing heavily, his mouth hangs open beside your cheek before closing with a deep inhale. The entirety of his presence is clouded with the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey, nothing you’re surprised by. And you’re not sure if your body is so limp and pliant because of your sleepy state, or your unwavering desire for him. 

“Wish you came tonight.” He then says in a rare moment of sweetness, almost cuddling into your body. 

“You told me not to.” Finally turning your head toward him, your noses meet, brushing over the other’s. “Don’t need your boys seeing us interact…” 

He frowns at this, your repetition of his earlier words. You’d wanted to go out with him, with all of them, but John was getting paranoid. He already felt like all eyes were on him when it came to you. Every chance he got, he went easy on you, gave all the hard paperwork to the other recruits, let you take as many breaks as you’d like during training, even made a habit of calling you into his office one too many times throughout the day. 

Reaching forward, John grabs your jaw, fingers pinching into your cheeks. That authoritative tone then makes an appearance as he demands slowly, quietly, “Behave.”

And that makes your cheeks run hot, a girlish little smile forming on your lips. Innocently, you reply with a whisper of, “Just repeating your own words, sir.” 

“Christ, you’re a sassy little thing.” With one quick motion, the hand on your face dives down to your thigh, squeezing its softness before moving to your ass. But even though he sounds genuinely annoyed, he’s still pulling on your panties, and it’s now that you realize he’s without his shirt. His chest presses down against your own, firm and full of hair and fuck if that didn’t turn you on more than anything. 

“Say my name,” He requests, mouthing at your neck. John is beyond sick of hearing that title, specifically when it came from your lips. He liked giving you this piece of him, liked creating this intimate space. 

Burning in the best of ways, his beard scrapes against your skin, soothed by the soft press of his lips. John seemed to be entranced by your entire presence, in the way you smile, the way you move. He’d never felt a sensation so ravenously delicious before he met you, so intensely carnal. 

Dropping his head down, John’s lips find your chest, mouthing at your soft slopes. It’s now that you fully give in, hands rising to either side of his face while arching into his touch. Both of those strong hands come up to grab you, too, molding your tits to fit perfectly in his palms. 

“John,”

“There we go,” With a broad smile, he praises you. “There’s the good girl I know.”

Those words make your head spin, make your center pulse and your body run hot. He knew what words like that did to you, even in the most mundane situations. You each had your triggers, particular words or phrases that made you weak in the knees and absolutely dumb in the head…

John liked to be called captain on the field, and when he heard you address him by said name, he had to fight the hard-on growing in his pants. But in bed, he liked John, he liked giving you that piece of him. And you, you fought for his attention, for the reward that made your eyes shine like stars in the sky - his praise. There have been too many times where John commended you for your hard work, even in front of the others, speaking words so innocent that no one but you could interpret otherwise. Good soldier, strong girl, even his favorite recruit. 

Days with extra praise ended with John pulling you into the locker room, bodies sweaty and sore but desperate for the other’s touch. He’ll lift you against the lockers, cold and rough against your back but it’s hard to notice when he shoves his cock between your legs. Heavy breaths and deep, quiet moans fill the smaller space, John’s sweat dripping onto your body. And you cling to him, too, with every limb you have, face burying into his neck to kiss and lick his sweat-slick skin. It happened often, way too fucking often. 

Other days, when he wouldn’t see you as much, that’s when he’d call you into his office. Little is said when this happens, John’s strong arms manhandling you over the side of his desk. He’d yank your cargos down and spit on you from behind, rubbing his fattened tip over your delicate lips. 

At times, he’d take you in the shower, too, his strength preventing you from slipping. Sometimes it’s up against the tiled wall, but more often than not, he took you from behind. Your cheek would press up against the cool tile, John’s front pressed firmly to your back. Shower sex was usually a more sensual experience, John’s hands roaming your body with an incredibly loving touch, lips obsessing over your jawline and neck. You’d sway back against him, feeling him throb inside your body while steam filled the room. You only got away with this when it was late, when no one else was in the room. 

But fucking in your room, this is new. 

“Perfect fucking tits,” He’s nibbling on your nipples now, wrapping his lips around them and sucking harshly. 

As if it’s your natural instinct, your hips rock up toward him, your blood rushing with excitement when he finally moves to settle his pelvis between your legs. It’s clear that he’s completely wasted, his movements both erratic and sloppy, but that’s never stopped him before. If anything, it makes everything that much more enticing to you. Even in his inebriated state, he wants you, he finds you. 

“Gorgeous girl, my gorgeous girl.”

With an intrigued grin, you return with, “Yours?” 

And that’s when his head shoots up, face inches from yours when he declares, “Mine.” Grabbing your jaw in one hand, he stares into your eyes as best he can with the darkness surrounding him. 

“You think any of those others boys will fuck you like I do? Think they’ll take care of you like I do?” His head tilts as he asks you this, free hand dipping to the space between your legs. “You’re my girl…” And then, his eyes are drifting down, watching the pad of his finger trace the damp trail on the center of your panties. “My good little soldier…”

“John,” The whimper that comes out sounds helpless, and he likes it that way. Lifting his head alongside a sweet smile, John leans in, finally reuniting your lips. He’s got you now, and he knows it. 

It’s been a few days, nearly an entire work week since you’ve last had each other. John was out with the task force for most of it, using tonight to celebrate a successful mission. And while it’s amazing he’s able to do that, amazing that he led another successful operation, to say you missed each other was an understatement. 

The hardened muscles of John’s chest press into you, pelvis grinding between your legs while he kisses you breathless. The hand on the back of your head keeps your mouth against him, his eyes closed in bliss. And when you moan, that liquor-soaked tongue takes advantage, shoving its way into your mouth and he’s moaning when you reciprocate the action. 

“Let me fuck you.” That raspy voice says, hands already on his pants. Looking up at him, you nod, no longer feeling like the fearsome soldier you know you are. With him, you can be soft. 

His own words prompt John to lean back then, undoing his belt and side-stepping out of his jeans. It’s quite the sight, watching this large, muscular man undo his jeans while towering above you. The bed dips with his weight, and you feel a brief chill in his absence. But it’s not for long. 

He doesn’t even bother taking your panties off, just slides them to the side before cramming his fingers into you. It makes you moan, makes you shriek when he curls them. And then you’re grasping at his shoulders, scratching over his freckled skin. Your captain doesn’t start slow, it’s quick and firm, the way he fucks you with two digits. 

“J-John, baby.” 

“Hush.” Is all he says before quieting you with his mouth, moaning into your throat when he finally tastes your tongue. “God, you’re so good like this.” Taking a breath, he shakes his head, scissoring his fingers into your dripping cunt. “Such a good fucking slut when you’re like this.”

“Fuck me,” Your eyes are rolling back, earning a proud grin from your partner. Is he your partner? Has it grown that deep? 

Before your sleepy mind can even comprehend it, he’s replacing his fingers with his cock, his head popping in. At such an early hour, it’s almost impossible for you to have a single coherent thought in your pretty little head, other than the sensation of his girth filling the space between your legs. It’s heady, and he’s heavy, throbbing against your warmth when you release such a cute little squeak. 

“Christ, just give it to me.” He grumbles above you, the scent of liquor and cigar smoke wafting through the room. That scent just does something to you, especially when you watch him smoke. Late at night, you often fantasize about blowing him while a cigar hangs from his mouth; maybe another time. “Ngh, just lay there while I take this tight little pussy.”

It fills you so completely, his warmth consuming your being. Every time you take him, it’s a perfect stretch, not enough to hurt but just enough to sting. Your hands don’t leave his shoulders, either, clinging to him and urging him down, closer to your skin. Happily, he complies; he’s been waiting for this all night. 

“Fuck, I wish you were there tonight.” John repeats, feeling you bite into his neck. “I really do.”

He tries desperately to keep his composure but he can’t, not when you’re squeezing him so sweetly, warm walls wrapping around him so tightly. It’s mere seconds before he’s moving his hips, not allowing you to take in the full sensation of him. 

“What if the boys see me?” Your question is breathy, lips kissing the hinge of his jaw and whining when he sinks back into your heat. 

“Y’know, sometimes princess…” Leaning back, John grabs onto both of your hips, staring down at you. And the window allows you the perfect view, far off street lamps illuminating the room. “I wish they would.” 

It’s then that he’s pulling your body back and forth onto his pelvis, forcing you to meet his movements. He can’t help but pound into your soft body, sinking in as deeply as he can. And wouldn’t you know it, the old man is already panting, blue eyes staring down at you with voracious desire. 

“Fuck, it’s so good. You make me feel so good, so fucking good.” John’s words, his moans, they’re louder than you’d anticipated they’d be. And honestly, it feels amazing to be able to do this to him; to be such a young woman and have this captain’s attention. 

“Baby…” Whining quietly, your hands reach back, holding onto the pillow beneath your head. It’s all you can do, really, while your body rocks against him with every thrust he gives. And John didn’t just plow into you, no… his hips swayed, plunging deep, hitting hard. “Please.” 

“Taking it so good for me, lovie.” You’re practically on display for him. With your arms raised, it leaves your entire torso vulnerable, presenting your body, as if to say use me, use me however you want. 

“Bragged about you today, princess.” 

“W-What?” The way your hips rut against him forces a groan from his throat, brows furrowing. 

“My good little soldier,” He explains, breathless, running a gentle hand down the skin of your stomach. “How well she’s done, how strong she is…”

“They’re,” Laughing briefly, you sigh. “They’re gonna figure it out.” 

“It’s like I told you… I don’t know if I care anymore.” Glancing down at your chest, John watches the way your tits bounce with his movements, the way your nipples harden when he leans in to spit on them. “Perfect fucking girl…” 

“Baby, please.” You don’t know what you’re begging for and John knows it’s just because he’s fucking you dumb, hitting that delicious spot deep inside your cunt. “Please, more.” 

With all your strength, you manage to wrap your legs around his waist, watching the reaction it pulls from him. Letting go of your hips, he lays both palms flat on the bed, dropping down to your chest. The moan that comes from John’s mouth is deep and needy, resting his face between the slopes of your breasts. He was such a sucker for that move. And that, combined with your sweet begs for more, please, John’s picking up his speed. The bed begins to rock from it, your hands leaving the pillow and finding the back of his neck and head. 

“Gorgeous fucking thing,” He says, kissing your nipple. “Sweet little girl… all for me.”

The way he moves is utterly devastating to your body, your nerves alight with that wonderfully erotic heat. Every time felt like the first with him, so passionate and erratic, quick movements and forceful kisses. He just wants you, wants to fuck you full until he physically can’t, to mark you from the inside out. 

“I fucking love it, I love this, baby.” The way your nails scratch down his back makes him shiver, strong legs supporting his body as he plunges between your legs. “You’re right.”

“I’m right?” John immediately asks, heavy breaths damp against your cheek. 

“You, you take care of me.”

And that fills him to the brink with pride. He really does try to, he always has the best intentions in mind when it comes to you. 

“Yeah, I do… because what am I, sweetheart? Who am I?” 

Fuck, you knew he’d bring this up. You fucking knew it. Of course he held onto that, your slip up from last week, before he left for the mission. But honestly, you haven’t been able to let go of it, either. The name left your lips in quiet pleas throughout the week, playing with yourself and imagining it to be him - in bed, in the shower, after workouts in the gym. And you wouldn’t have even thought of whispering that title if it hadn’t spilled from your lips the night John left. 

“I asked you a question.” He demands, punctuating it with a sharp shove. 

“Daddy.”

“Fucking Christ.” It punches out of his chest, the muscles in his body flexing to their limit. Both hands find your skin then, one securing to your hip, the other holding the back of your head. Leaning in, John rests his face against your neck, moaning freely. 

“Again.” 

“Daddy, please.” Your fingers rake through his hair, stinging his scalp when you pull on the shorter strands. “Please.” 

Tossing your head back gives him perfect access, his teeth digging in. Here, John sucks on your skin, rutting his hips against yours hard enough to slap against your ass. It rings throughout the room, alongside your collective chorus of pleasure. And he drinks in every little noise you make, every cute whimper that slips from your mouth. 

“Daddy.”

“I love it,” He can feel you sucking him in, can feel the way your slick drips down his shaft. “Oh Christ, I love that. I take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes, yes and,” Swallowing dryly, you sigh. “I wanna take care of you.” 

Together, your hips grind against each other, forcing him in as deep as he can get. Here, he pauses, breathing against your mouth before biting at your lower lip. 

“Yeah?” John questions, hand lifting so he can pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “And how’re you meant to do that, hm?”

Moving slowly, your captain trails his facial hair along your cheek, your jaw, breathing airily against your neck. It runs a flurry of shivers down your neck and chest, arousal curling tightly in your abdomen. 

“I want you in my mouth.” Finally, you admit it. 

“Oh,” His surprised chuckle makes you feel hot in the face, sheepish. “What an offer that is. But… it’s not gonna happen, not tonight.”

“Why?” It’s a full-on whine; you can’t help it. With how wonderful he feels inside your cunt, you can’t even imagine how delightful he’d feel on your tongue. His heavy girth filling your mouth, leaking down your throat. 

“When I’m inside you, princess, feeling you raw,” Now, that ravenous pace returns, that broad body leaning back again to grab at your waist and ass. “I’m not pulling out, not until I’m done with you. And you want daddy to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, baby. Yes…” 

Releasing a harsh grunt, John continues his movements, rutting into your core and throbbing against your welcoming warmth. 

“Can feel you dripping down my dick, sweetheart. You wanna cum?”

“John,” Arching up toward his body, you release a high gasp. “Yes! I want more, daddy, please. Please, I want more!” 

“Oh, god, you just love it, don’t you?” Snarling, John runs his nose up the column of your neck, taking in your scent. “My lovely little girl wants my dick, doesn’t she?” 

He’s whispering in your ear now, listening to your shrill cry of yes while your hand is grabbing at his ass, pulling him further into you. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, he’s grabbing your face and shoving his mouth over your own. It’s rough, mostly tongue and teeth, feeling overcome by his desire for you. 

John can feel every twitch of your velvety inner skin, can feel the way your slick drips down his balls. Christ, you get so wet for him, so wet for such an older man. 

“So sweet for me,” John huffs beside your cheek, kissing your soft skin obsessively. “Tight as a fucking virgin, aren’t you?” 

In the darkness of your room, your body rocks against the mattress, feeling John’s weight keep you down. All you can hear is his voice, his grunts and groans. All you can feel is the firm warmth of his body, his hot breath, his skin damp with sweat. 

“Cum for me,” Comes your small whimper, wanting to feel him inside you, wanting to know he’s inside you. “Please, John.” 

“No, I need you.” He insists, reaching down between your bodies. Here, his fingers toy with your clit, circling it, squeezing and rubbing it. “C’mon, princess.” John requests, lips beside your ear as he groans. “Cum on this fucking cock.”

“Fuck,” It comes out as a whisper, eyelids pinching shut with your lips falling open. 

“Feeling my little soldier… squeezing around my cock.”

“John, John.” The way he touches you makes you see fucking stars, a delicious little heat burning up through your belly. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” John can feel the way you spasm around his length, the way your breathing becomes shallow and erratic. “C’mon, lovie, be good for me. Cum on my cock, cum like you're supposed to. Just make a mess on me.” 

“I’m gonna,” You reply, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Then, your body relaxes, hips jerking up in an involuntary act. And when John feels it, that hot rush of liquid on his pelvis and lower abdomen, he all but loses his goddamn mind. 

A groan punches from his chest, stuttering out through his mouth. Your girlish shriek forces his eyes back, feeling you tear skin with how hard you’ve scratched him. And he can’t wait for the boys to ask, he genuinely thinks he’ll tell them this time. Because… it won’t be the first time they’ve inquired about the marks on his back. 

At this point, he can’t hold back, he’s grunting into your neck while he absolutely floods your heat. Every spurt is accompanied by a sharp jerk of his hips, his body tensing and flexing and he’s doing everything he can to keep from falling on top of you. His arms hold you, squeeze you, rubbing the hot slick of your cum over both your bodies. 

“Mm…” He’s groaning, laying lightly over your chest. Your wetness has bathed his lower stomach and pelvis, the sight and feel and smell driving him mad. “Baby…” 

Gently, lazily, he kisses your neck, eyes closed in contentment. And for a moment, you wonder if he’ll stay. You’ve spent nights together before, parting in the morning to fulfill your separate duties. But will he allow himself to leave from your room? To allow the possibility of someone seeing? 

“You’re so warm.” Caressing his back, you sigh, drinking in the intimacy of this moment. He’s still inside you, flaccid and just resting. Your combined slick begins to drip from your folds but neither of you seem to care enough to clean it up, not yet. 

After a few minutes pass, John releases a saddened breath, muffling into your shoulder, “Should I go?” 

“No,” Instantly, you’re tightening your hold on him. “Stay.” 

A cocksure grin forms on his face from that, eyes drooping with exhaustion. “You want me to stay?” 

“Yes,” It comes out as a small giggle, fingers now running through his hair. “Stay, John.”

#John Price #Captain John Price #John Price you #John Price x reader #John Price x female reader #John Price smut #Call of Duty #Call of Duty fanfiction

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

You Hurt Me Pt 2 - LN

Summary: After a couple weeks of wallowing and hurting over the break up, y/n’s best friend arranges for Lando to come see y/n and hope for an outcome that at least improves the situation. But can Lando fix such a colossal fuck up?

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Y/n is trying her best to appear as if she’s not falling apart but there’s no denying that she is hurting. She’s done every angle possible that cuts her face out of the posts she makes.

Coming back from her trip, she has been wallowing. Or more accurately rotting away on her sofa.

“Babe, I’m sick of this. If you can’t move on from him right now, then you need to speak to him and get closure.” Y/f/n sighs while y/n looks at her.

“He got to you.”

“He’s on his way now. Look, I’m not on his side. This is purely to benefit you.”

“You’re a bad friend.” Y/n sniffles before sitting up.

“I’m not saying what he did is ok, but christ…y/n, you’re not ok. I think he’s the only one who can fix it and from the bottom of my heart, I really hate him even more for the fact he has that sort of power.” Y/f/n states looking sympathetic as she crouches to y/n’s level. “If you really don’t want to see him, then I’m more than happy to use this as an opportunity to punch him in the face instead. I’d be more than happy to humble him by making him ugly.”

“No…he has enough money to fix it.” Y/n murmurs managing the first small laugh that she’s had since the break up.

“That’s true, but knowing he’d have to go through the pain of plastic surgery to fix it makes me feel a lot better.” Y/f/n smiles softly then taking y/n’s hand and kissing the back of it. “What do you want to do?”

Y/n knows the outcome if she sees him. He probably wouldn’t even have to say anything, she’s ready to beg for him to come back anyway. Which is pathetic given the fact that she’s not the one who did anything wrong.

Less than 10 minutes later, y/f/n has Lando by the collar of his top against the wall.

“You put one fucking hair wrong, if even the wrong syllable of a word comes out your mouth. I will make your life hell and your f1 career will be that of a ghost.” Y/f/n growls quietly, not wanting her friend to a victim of some more heartbreak.

“I’m not here to hurt hurt.” Lando states with a voice that makes y/f/n soften a little since clearly the break up hasn’t been easy for him. Even if they believe it shouldn’t be easy on him because he’s the entire reason it happened.

“Fine, go ahead. But I hope you feel like a shit person when you see just how much you’ve hurt her.”

Y/n hears her friend and almost wants to smack a bitch for being so damn honest about her.

Lando walks into the living room and while it sounds awful, y/n’s a little relieved to see that he looks pretty shit. It’d be awful if he looked well rested and glowing while she’s been a wreck of a person.

“I’m sorry. I’m really really really fucking sorry and I swear, I have cut out all female friends that have ever been more than a friend. Even just a conversation about possibly being more, they’re gone. I want you. Only you and I know I’ve got a long with to go before I’ve actually made it up to you, but please I’ll do anything to make you feel secure in a relationship with me.”

Y/n sits up, keeping herself bundled in the blankets while she looks down at her hand in her lap.

“You really hurt me, Lando.” Y/n murmurs then biting her lip to stop it from quivering. She doesn’t just want to cry her way through this. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you to not do it when I’m not around…me being there didn’t even stop you. How could I ever think that you can stop yourself when there’s no pressure of me being there.”

For some reason, seeing Lando has actually made y/n feel angry rather than sad. Her blood is picking up in heat, and suddenly the insecurity and sadness that has been consuming her is beginning to wash away.

Meanwhile, Lando is beginning to think he really can’t talk his way into convincing her that he is worth taking back.

“Whether you take me back, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you jut how much I regret losing you.” Lando states swallowing thickly while she frowns at him.

“Y/f/n said I need closure…”

“And you got it.” Lando nods understanding that he’s officially lost the best thing in his life and he isn’t getting her back. “I guess a friendship is off the cards?”

“I don’t want to be the friend who you have a history with for your next girlfriend. I won’t put someone else in that position.” Y/n sighs shaking her head while Lando blinks, eyes watering as he tries to hide it because honestly he doesn’t want her to think this is for show.

He hurt her. Now he’s lost her and hurt himself.

“Can I have one last hug?” Lando asks keeping his voice as steady as possible.

“Yes, of course you can.” Y/n nods since actually she thinks she needs it just as much if not more than him. “Glad I showered this morning.”

Lando wouldn’t have cared, he wants one last chance of memorising everything about her.

When his body wraps around hers, he breathes in her scent which he notes is the same perfume he bought her and she’s sworn by as the best perfume ever since. Somehow that comforts him, but the thought of her changing her signature scent because another guy gets her a different perfume makes his chest ache.

“We’re going to be ok.” Y/n whispers before swallowing thickly. “This is for the better…I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

Stopping himself from being that guy, Lando stops himself from being honest and saying that he is never going to be as happy as he was with her.

“I’ll always love you, and I want you to be happy too.”

“I’ll always love you too, and wish the best for you and whoever is lucky enough to get you…and keep you.”

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando #norris #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader

[corroded-hellfire]

Red Hot - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the woman who makes this series possible @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: It’s been one year since you and Eddie discovered your feelings for one another—and so much more. Now, it’s your anniversary and a romantic evening is planned. Unfortunately, life with two little boys around tends to throw some wrenches in your life—even on special nights like this.

Note: I cannot believe it’s been a year since I posted the first part of As You Wish. It was only intended to be this spicy one shot but so many people asked for a part 2 and…here we are! I can’t thank all of you enough for reading. It means more to me than you know 💜

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, oral, m and f receiving, vomit, implied medical issues, age gap, older!eddie

Words: 5.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

One whole year has passed of you being with Eddie. One year since the night he’d come home sullen after what was supposed to be a nice evening out, only to find that his deepest desire was right there waiting for him on the worn blue couch in his living room. 

Honestly, it was the night both of your wishes came true. Such dark secrets you each harbored, never thinking that the other could possibly return the feelings.  You, thinking he wouldn’t see you as anything more than a babysitter for his two kids. Him, thinking you’d never be interested in a man over a decade older than you. The spark finally lit the flame though, leading to the best year of your lives. The best year of the boys’ lives as well. Neither you nor Eddie had ever seen the kids in all around better moods than this past year—and that’s even with the divorce and custody proceedings. 

A romantic date night was planned for the one year anniversary, a date that came with some discussion at first. You had brought up that you weren’t a fan of having your anniversary with Eddie on the same day that was his wedding anniversary with Brittany. Eddie was quick to assure you that this had just been the night he and Brittany were able to get out and celebrate their anniversary—not the actual day itself. 

“Pretty sure the fun you and I had that night went past midnight, into the next day anyway,” Eddie added with a smirk.

So, the evening was planned. An intimate dinner out together while Ryan has a sleepover at his friend Charlie’s house and Luke spends the night with Wayne. 

Even though you didn’t officially live with the Munson men yet, you did spend more time than not at their apartment. A drawer in Eddie’s dresser contained a stash of your clothes, a toothbrush sat right next to Eddie’s by the sink, and if you weren’t spending the night, the boys would call up at bedtime to say goodnight to you anyway. So, it made perfect sense for you to get ready at the apartment so you and Eddie could just go together to drop Luke off and Wayne’s and then be on your way to the restaurant. 

You’re in Eddie’s room, leaning over his dresser to get a better look at your face in the mirror as you apply eyeliner. Eddie is wearing black dress pants with a gray shirt that make you want to rip them right off. He’s currently securing his hair in a low bun as you do your best not to stab yourself in the eye with the stubby little black pencil. 

Just as you finish applying mascara, you hear the soft pitter-patter of Luke’s feet headed towards the master bedroom. 

“I frew up.”

“Oh, Christ,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, swiveling on one heel. “What happened?”

Luke shrugs. “My tummy hurt and then I frew up. But I got most of it in the toilet; wanna see?”

Eddie just looks at you, twisting the mascara wand back into the tube, then back at his son. 

“Most of it?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm.” Luke scampers back to the bathroom, and you and Eddie follow reluctantly. 

Both you and your boyfriend were expecting the smell to be worse as you step into the bathroom. Your eyes are on the ground, making sure not to step in anything Luke wasn’t able to get in the toilet. 

The sick mess in the toilet—and around it—is bright red. 

“Shit.” Eddie scoops up Luke, not caring that there’s now vomit on his dress shirt. “Luke, did you have any fruit snacks today at lunch? Gushers or Fruit Roll-Ups or something like that?”

The little boy shakes his head. “Just a chocolate chip cookie.”

Eddie looks at you, horrified. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen true fear in Eddie’s eyes, and it curdles your own stomach. 

“We have to get him to the hospital,” Eddie says. His tone is urgent, but not panicked. The last thing you need is for Luke to start freaking out. 

You nod in reply, already heading out into the hall, grabbing all three of your coats from the closet and tucking them under your arm. 

Luke is clearly confused. He keeps looking back and forth between you and his father, his little brow pinching together. 

“Why are we going to the hopsital?” he asks. “I feel good!”

Famous last words, Eddie thinks. He needs both hands and feet to count the number of times his kids have claimed that they weren’t sick just moments before they inevitably crashed. 

Neither you nor your boyfriend know how to respond to Luke, so you silently help him into his coat while Eddie shrugs on his own. The keys clang as Eddie takes them off a peg by the front door and tosses them your way. Then he picks up a still-confused Luke and heads out the door.

You drive while Eddie sits in the backseat with Luke. It’s quite obvious you two adults are more stressed out than the six-year-old is. Both of you keep checking in on him but there’s no deviation from the usual Luke-ness that you know and love. 

“How do you feel?” you ask, glancing at Luke in the rear view mirror.

“I’m hungry; can we get McDonalds?”

When you arrive at the emergency room, you pick up Luke to carry so Eddie can go ahead and alert the employees at the intake desk of what’s going on. 

The biting February wind stings your nose and cheeks as you cross the parking lot, but Luke keeps chatting away as though it’s just a regular evening.

“Did you know that birds feed their babies by frowing up in their beaks?”

“Wow, you know so many things,” you manage, trying to tamper your nausea and nerves.

“That’s like if you chewed up my chicken nuggets and spit them into my mouth.”

“Yup, I’ve got the visual.”

Secretly, your insides warm up, flattered that he considers you the “mommy bird.”

“My teacher got pooped on by a bird today, but she didn’t even notice.”

He continues talking through the whole process: waiting, triage, until he’s assigned a room and asked to wear a hospital gown. The moment you step out of the room to give him some privacy, it feels as if the world outside the small room has gone silent, save for the occasional beep from medical instruments. Now it’s too quiet without Luke’s chattering. Needing to do something besides just standing there, full of nervous energy, you walk down the hall to find a payphone and call Wayne to let him know what’s going on. 

Back in the room, Eddie is trying to get his nerves under control. Nothing’s wrong, he tries to assure himself. And even if there was—which there isn’t—he’s in the best possible place he could be and surrounded by professionals who probably see all sorts of things far worse than whatever this might be. 

“Where are the pants?” Luke asks, looking like a dog chasing its tail as he tries to get a look at the back of the gown. 

“No pants,” Eddie tells him as he ties the strings together in the back for him. There’s a soft knock on the door and Eddie tugs it open. 

You step back into the room and Luke grins and holds his arms out at his sides.

“Look! I’m wearing a dress just like you!”

Despite the seriousness of the visit, you can’t help but smile. Though your purple A-line dress looks nothing like the white gown covered in blue dots that he’s wearing. 

“Now you’re my twin instead of Daddy’s,” you tease.

That makes Luke giggle, and he sits down on the bed, dangling his short legs over the side. It isn’t long before Luke is taken back for tests, most of which Eddie is allowed to accompany him for. You know that’s probably bringing far more comfort to Eddie than Luke at the moment. 

You wait back in the room, anxious thoughts getting the better of you now that you’re alone and have time for your brain to wander. There are a bunch of brochures spread out on a table, so you decide to flip through some of them, keep your mind busy. None of them seem relevant to any medical issue you’ll ever have; then again, you never pictured yourself rushing a kid to the hospital for bloody puke, so you plunk down with a booklet on goiters. It mentions scurvy, which reminds you of Luke, and you have to stifle your amusement before you become known as the Woman Who Laughs at Goiters. 

The nurse brings Luke and Eddie back to the room, along with an old coloring book and some crayons. Artist that he is, Luke is already eyeing the different colors to see which one he’ll want to use first.

“It’ll be another hour until we have all the results,” the nurse announces somewhat apologetically. 

Eddie manages a weak smile as he plops into his chair. You reach over and slide your hand into his. A gentle squeeze greets your touch, and you give him one back in reassurance. 

Finally making his decision, Luke plucks a red crayon out of the box. 

“Did you know that these don’t taste like cherry?”

Everyone—including this poor nurse—stares at him.

“Luke,” Eddie starts, “why would you think it tastes like cherry?”

“Evan Holloway said it did,” Luke replies absentmindedly as he starts to color a fire truck, “but I think he was just kidding, because it tasted gross.”

Eddie bites back a comment about how the kid didn’t stand a chance at being nice with parents like Heather Holloway and Billy Hargrove. It’s not the time or place though.

“When did you eat the crayon?” You investigate further.

“Today during arts and crafts,” he says, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates on the drawing at hand. 

You and Eddie both look at the nurse apologetically.

“When I asked you about what you ate today that was red, why didn’t you mention the crayon?” Eddie’s teeth are gritted as he tries to maintain his composure. 

“You asked about fruit snacks, not crayons.” He pauses and looks up from his coloring book. “But don’t worry; I took the paper off first.”

“Oh, good.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and you put your hand on his shoulder. 

Luke’s confession—and subsequent perfect test results—allow him to be discharged. He falls asleep in the car almost as soon as Eddie puts it in drive and leaves the parking lot. 

The ride home is draped in comfortable, relaxing silence. After hours of machines incessantly beeping, doctors checking in, and Luke whining about his boredom, the quiet is certainly welcome. At least now there’s a massive weight off of your and Eddie’s shoulders.

The little boy doesn’t even stir when you arrive at home, so Eddie carries him into the apartment and to his room, gently tucking him into bed. 

“G’night, crazy kid,” he says with a soft laugh. He kisses his forehead, and you do the same before you both head to your own bedroom. 

“Baby, I’m so tired—” Eddie starts, the two of you practically collapsing onto the queen-sized mattress. 

You muster up a nod. “Me, too, Eds.” 

“Raincheck on me rocking your world?” he smirks, leaning in and kissing your nose. 

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m home!”

Ryan’s excited voice jolts you awake; when you glance at the clock, it’s only a bit after 7 AM. Charlie’s mom must’ve been eager to end the sleepover. 

Eddie pushes himself up on an elbow and cracks one eye open. “Wait, Ry; how did you get in the house?” He didn’t have a spare key, and Eddie always made sure the doors were locked at night. 

Ryan shrugs. “I rang the buzzer and Luke let me in.”

Eddie groans and lets out a yawn. He’ll have to remind his youngest son about making sure an adult knows someone’s coming into the house, but he doesn’t have the energy now. Instead, he focuses on Ryan. “Ya have fun at Charlie’s?”

“Yeah!” he chirps. “We had—” 

You slowly sit up, trying to keep your temper at being woken up. “Can we hear this story over breakfast, Ry?”

He agrees and bounds into the kitchen, you and Eddie sleepily trailing behind. 

Luke is already halfway through a bowl of Frosted Flakes when the three of you walk out to the kitchen. 

“Ryan!” he shouts, way too loud for this early in the morning. Cereal sprays everywhere, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I went to the hospital last night!” 

Ryan’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

“Yeah! I just told Grandpa about it.”

Eddie frowns in confusion. “When did you talk to Grandpa?” He grabs a bowl from the pantry and pours himself some cereal. Nothing sugary like the boys eat; those days are behind him. 

“I just called him before when I woke up,” Luke says with a shrug.

You throw some Eggos in the toaster for Ryan while the boys both regale you with their respective tales. Luke manages to make it sound much more fun than it actually was last night, tapping into his father’s knack for storytelling. Part of you is surprised there’s no supernatural elements to this tale. 

A little later in the day there’s a knock on the door. Eddie turns the knob and is surprised to see Wayne on the other side. He raises his eyebrows as he regards the older man. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks before realizing how that sounded. “I mean, hi.”

“I told Luke I was coming over,” Wayne says, nodding to the younger boy coming up behind his father. 

Eddie looks at the boy as he closes the door behind Wayne. 

“Luke, you never told me that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Even though he already told him on the phone, Luke once again laments the events of last night to his grandfather. Once he’s done, Ryan tells Wayne all about his sleepover at Charlie’s last night. 

When he finally gets a moment to talk to you and Eddie without the rugrats around, Wayne offers to take the boys for the rest of the day and overnight so the two of you can have a do over on your anniversary date.

“You sure, Old Man?” Eddie asks.

“Positive. I’ll just keep ‘em away from crayons.”

The moment the three of them leave, Eddie locks the door behind them and grabs your hand to drag you into the bedroom.

“Eds!”

“Oh, right; where are my manners?” Eddie admonishes himself. “I should take you out to eat first.” He heads into the kitchen and fishes the brochure for your go-to Chinese restaurant. Not even needing to ask you, he orders your favorites before hanging up and turning back to you. “Now, time for my meal.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “If you don’t cum in thirty minutes, your next orgasm is free.”

The moment your back lands on the bed, he tugs off your pants and panties and buries himself between your legs. There’s time for slow and romantic later, you both need each other now.

“This pussy is perfect, goddamn.”

Any response is futile as words have left your brain the second Eddie’s tongue flicks over your clit. He does it over and over again, causing your abdomen muscles to tighten and your fists grip the blanket below you. 

You let your eyes fall closed and lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie sucking on your clit. He knows the exact speeds and pressures to get you where he wants you, changing it up in the most pleasurable of ways. As your back arches off the bed at a particularly harsh suck, Eddie slips two fingers into your waiting hole, meeting no resistance. Being stretched by and filled with Eddie just has you that much closer to hitting your high. 

Eddie pumps his fingers in time with his licks and it isn’t long before you feel that familiar heat building up in your body. Your boyfriend must be able to sense this as well, because he curls his fingers up against your walls as his tongue continues to flick over your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s enough to have you seeing stars. Part of you wants it to last longer, but you know Eddie will do this again and again for you if you ask. The thought of him wanting to make you feel good and wanting your body so much is the push you need into oblivion.

“Fuck! Oh shit, Eddie,” you whine, a hand going down to grip his hair. “I’m—I’m coming.”

Eddie knows how to extract every last wave of pleasure from you as he works you through the orgasm. This he’ll take his time with, after being in such a haste to get you off. You feel boneless as you lay on the bed, utterly wrecked from your boyfriend’s thick fingers and sinful mouth. 

You whine as Eddie slips his fingers from your pussy, but the whine turns into a moan when he pops them into his mouth. It’s suddenly given you a burst of energy.

“My turn,” you say, giving him a salacious grin. 

Eddie flings his shirt into an abyss of laundry and rolls onto his back so you can trail kisses down his torso. He giggles when your fingers brush against his stomach as you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants off. His erection springs free, already leaking pre-cum from getting you off. 

“Such a pretty cock, Eds,” you muse, your lips tenderly touching the head. “And it’s all mine, huh?”

“Y-Yup,” his breath hitches. “All yours; please, please suck it for me.”

You happily oblige—as if there was any doubt that you would—licking from base to tip with a flattened tongue. His thighs twitch at the contact, the movement punctuated with a low groan. You never knew how much you appreciated a vocal man until you’d slept with Eddie. Now it’s a goal of yours to get him to make as much noise as possible.

“Oh, princess,” he growls, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Baby girl.”

Your hand grasps the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth, leaving no square inch of his cock untouched in some way. You want—no, you need—to make him feel good. Thinking back to that first time together, fueled by lust, but also a desire for one another. A longing that had burned steady in both of you. Eddie could have waited up for Brittany and had lackluster sex; you could have hooked up with that guy from your anthropology class who’s always checking you out. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying; you craved Eddie and Eddie craved you. It was impossible to satisfy that urge any other way.

He bucks his hips gently now, his signal that he’s close. You pump him faster, grip him tighter, until he’s spilling into your mouth and down your chin. 

Once you’re satisfied that you’ve milked everything you can from him, you pull off and swallow his load. Eddie manages just enough strength to lift his head up as he attempts to catch his breath. His eyes darken as he watches you lick your lips and wipe off the cum that drooled out onto your chin and pop it in your mouth. 

“God damn,” Eddie breathes out. 

You share in that sentiment. This fast and rough sex is exactly what the two of you needed after such a scary and stressful evening last night.

The doorbell rings and your boyfriend flops his head back down, his curls spilling around his pillow like a halo. 

“Want me to get it?” you offer, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Uh uh,” Eddie tuts. He haphazardly reaches over the side of the bed to search for his boxers. “Only I get to see you looking this wrecked.” A playful wink is thrown your way as Eddie sits up. He hops off the bed and slips on his boxers, sweats, and an old Deep Purple t-shirt. “You get dressed, baby.” 

“Don’t wanna,” you say with a pout. 

It makes Eddie chuckle, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before reaching for the knob on the bedroom door.

“Don’t worry, we can take them off again later.”

Eddie strolls out of the room, and you raid your drawer in his dresser. There’s an old pair of jeans shoved in the back that you pull out and hop into those while you scoop one of Eddie’s old Hellfire shirts that he let you cut and customize to your liking—a true sign of love right there—laying over the arm of a chair. 

When you meet Eddie in the living room, he’s unpacking your food into the coffee table. There’s a pile of VHS tapes in the corner of the room, and though most of them are the kids’, you manage to find Benny & Joon and pop that into the player. 

The moment you plop down on the couch next to Eddie, he wraps his arm around your hips and tugs your body up against his. 

“It’s difficult to eat with one hand, you know,” you tell him when he doesn’t move his arm.

“I’ll deal.”

Somehow, he does—even if it causes a bit of a mess on the couch and coffee table.

Eddie swallows a mouth full of rice and turns to look at you. His eyes take in your profile, the expression on his face turning to adoring almost instantly.

“I’m really grateful that you were there with me last night,” he admits, voice softer and more serious than usual. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to handle that without you.”

The way that you look at him from beneath your eyelashes takes his breath away. He gets just as stunned by your beauty now as he did when he opened the front door that first time he met you.

“Yes, you could’ve,” you assure him. “You’re stronger than you think, Eddie. But I’m glad you didn’t have to do it alone. There’s nowhere I’d rather have been at the moment than with you. Well…I’d have liked not to have had to go to the hospital at all, but you know.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Turns out we didn’t need to anyway.” Your boyfriend sighs and runs a hand over his face. “God, Luke’s gonna kill me someday.”

“Kill you with his cuteness, you mean.”

“You mean because he looks just like me?” Eddie asks, a cocky smirk dancing on his lips.

“Of course,” you say with a chuckle. You lean in and press your lips to Eddie’s, resting your hand on his chest.

“You mean the world to me,” Eddie whispers against your lips. He knows he’s told you that many times, in many different ways. But it’s because he needs you to know how true it is. Having a partner who he can count on and trust with his life—with his son’s lives. It’s new to him, and even after a year, it surprises him every day how much you do for him and the boys. Your kindness and your heart are bottomless, he’s decided. And though he has no clue how he got so lucky, he’s not about to question it.

“I feel the same way about you,” you reply, also in a soft tone. Eddie always tells you the way that you make his life better, but he tends to brush you off when you try to do the same. He believes you deserve more than him, but he doesn’t realize there isn’t any more than him. He is everything.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together a year,” Eddie says. Sometimes it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye, but when he thinks about all the shit the two of you have had to overcome, he thinks that a year feels about right.

“Best year ever,” you say. “Even dealing with a certain psycho couldn’t ruin it.” You don’t want to mention Brittany by name, but you need to let him know that you’d do it all over time and time again despite her and all the bullshit.

“Aw, come on. Ryan’s not that bad,” Eddie jokes. You giggle and bury your face in his neck. Electricity sparks where your skin rests against his and Eddie wraps you up in his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you much.”

“I love you too,” you murmur against his skin. You go to wish him a happy anniversary as well, but Eddie’s loud growling stomach steals your thunder and sends you into another round of giggles. “Would you like some of my food?”

“God, you’re perfect.”

Not five minutes after the two of you finish your food, Eddie has you on your back, his body resting comfortably on top of yours as you makeout. The kisses are slow and passionate, taking your time to explore one another’s mouths. Hands roam each other’s bodies, some soft touches and some rough grabs—all of it possessive.

Needing air, Eddie pulls his mouth from yours and begins to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Strong fingers dig into your hips as you lift your own hands to tangle in his soft curls.

“Bedroom?” Eddie growls against your skin.

“No,” you say, wrapping your legs around the man’s hips to keep him where he is. “Want you here.”

“Mm, whatever my princess wants,” Eddie mutters, punctuating it by grazing your jaw with his teeth. Slowly, he sits up, bringing you with him until you’re seated comfortably in his lap.

You shiver, his tongue warm against your neck and hands strong on your back and sides. It’s as though you can’t be close enough to him, your hips rolling to create a friction that has both of you aroused. 

Eddie unbuttons your jeans disapprovingly. “Don’t know why you even bothered to put these back on,” he tuts, apparently forgetting that he was the one who told you to. “Now I gotta rip ‘em off again. Making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Tell me more about making things harder,” you tease, grinding against his stiff length with the intent of feeling him through your panties. 

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs into your mouth, a smile twitching on his lips. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your pants get shrugged down your legs, not even making it all the way off, and your lace thong gets pushed over slightly to expose your pussy. Eddie pulls himself out of his boxers and runs his cock along your soaked core before aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Tha’s it,” he moans as you sink onto him, taking every inch within your walls. “Fuck, you know exactly what I want.”

You bite your lip and nod. It’s as though your brain clicks off when he first enters you, your head filled only with thoughts of Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

Once you regain some semblance of sanity, you hold onto his biceps and bounce on his cock, the tip hitting your sweet spot over and over. “So big—so full,” you manage, eyes rolling back as he thrust up into you. 

“That’s right; you’re fuckin’ full of me,” he grits out, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “And I’m gonna pump you full of my cum, too.”

You nod before gently biting down on his shoulder. “Please. Want your cum.”

“I know you do, princess. Because I’ve gotta fill you with my cum to knock you up, don’t I?”

You can only whimper in response, but that isn’t satisfactory for your boyfriend. 

“Words, princess.”

“Want you to knock me up!” It comes out in one pathetic breath. 

His thrusts become more frantic, needier. “Oh, I don’t think you want it,” he goads. “I think you need it. I think you need me to get you pregnant, so you can show off that you fuckin’ belong to me—and only me.”

Tears form along your lash line; your orgasm is so close, but you know he can withhold your pleasure if you don’t answer him. “Need your baby,” you whisper. “Need everyone to know I’m yours.”

“God fuckin’ damn.” The thought of you swollen with pregnancy has him unhinged, his thumb circling your clit as his own release nears. “Gonna fuck you so full.”

You clench around him, chanting his name while you cum. He follows, holding down your hips so he can slam into you and give you every last drop. 

A string of breathy whines leaves your lips as you lower your head down to Eddie’s shoulder. His grip on you softens and slowly glides up your body until one hand trails up and down your back and the other cups the back of your head. 

“How was that?” he murmurs.

“Fucking amazing and you know it,” you mumble against his shoulder. 

Eddie chuckles and you pick your head up to press your lips against his. 

“Don’t wanna move,” you say with a sigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Just want to keep me inside of you forever, don’t you?”

As hard as he just made you cum, you shouldn’t get so instantly turned on by his words and teasing tone. And though he may be teasing, he is also absolutely correct. 

You push against his chest playfully and reluctantly move yourself off of his lap. As gracefully as you can manage—which isn’t very—you lay back down on the couch. A trickle down the inside of your thigh tells you that Eddie’s cum is escaping. Your boyfriend seems to notice this just as you do.

“Absolutely not,” he says as uses two fingers to shove it back into you. 

The feeling has your eyes fluttering closed as you let your muscles relax into the cushions. 

“Ah, shit,” Eddie says.

“What?” you ask, forcing your eyes open. Eddie’s looking down and you follow his line of sight to see that some of his cum got away from both of you and landed on your jeans. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re—huh.”

A giggle begins to bubble up out of you and Eddie raises an eyebrow in question.

“Eds, these are the same jeans I was wearing that night,” you tell him.

“Our first night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I couldn’t find them when I went to get dressed. Someone else did though and threw them in my face.” You chuckle at the memory. “I didn’t even remember I had these jeans stashed here at your place.” 

“And as nice as they are,” Eddie drawls, crawling on top of your body, “I think you look far better without them on. Or any pants. Or any clothes.”

You smirk up at him and drape your arms around his neck. “What do you say we make some new stains, then?”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

[pepsiconcoction]

Bathroom Breakdown | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

tags: insecurity, comfort, fluff, chan is so sweet y'all, minor explicit language

requested? nope, this was all me baybee!

wc: 1,450

If you had to say, getting in your own head was probably your strongest skill. You do it a lot, more than most people, but the funniest thing is, you don’t even realise you’re doing it half of the time. The thoughts in your head are so common that you truly believe them now, they’re just facts!

The recent topic of discussion inside your brain has been your love life. Specifically, your wonderful boyfriend, Chan. He really is wonderful, he’s kind, generous, funny, smart, and handsome as hell. You consider yourself lucky to be his girlfriend for the past six months. Insecurity has been slowly eating you recently, gnawing at you in the back of your head. You know everything that it’s saying is wrong, and that he loves you, and he’s lucky to have you too, but there’s just something convincing you he’s lying, that one day he is going to turn around and decide to leave.

Sniffling, you fold up a wad of toilet paper and bring it to your face, wiping your eyes one last time. You throw it into the toilet from your place on the cold tile floor and grab onto the edge of the sink to help hoist yourself up. You see your reflection in the mirror and let out a long, shaky breath. You were seemingly done crying, using the last 45 minutes as a good release, and your legs wobbled as you stood. 

You turned on the tap, feeling the cool water on your fingers. Gathering some water in your hands, you bring the coolness up to your face, gently pressing your face, and massaging around your eyes, attempting to wrangle the puffiness of your post-sob face. The cold water was refreshing and helped to bring you back to reality.

A few minutes later you were ready to face the world again, the world inside your apartment at least. Unlocking the bathroom door, you take one final deep breath. You swing the door open and nearly scream. There, leaning against the wall opposite, is Chan. 

“Jesus Christ.” You clutch your chest.

“Sorry, I did text you but,” he trails off. Oh, right. You didn’t have your phone on you, you had left it in the living room.

“Oh, sorry, yeah, it’s in the other room. How long have you been here?” You ask. He must have let himself in with the spare key you had given him.

“Uh, not long, maybe 15 minutes?” He stands up, awkwardly. You think he’s lying to save you the embarrassment.

“Oh,” you say, neither of you really knowing where to go with this.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Are you okay?”

You speak at the same time. Your eyes widen at his question, and you think for a second that you look like a deer in headlights.

“Ah, yeah, I got a free evening so thought I’d come over,” he explains. “But maybe I should’ve waited for a response.”

“No it’s okay, I was just, thinking too much.” You don’t know what to say. He opens his arms and you fall into them, wrapping around you gently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks softly into your hair.

“I think I’d cry again.”

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to cry.”

You take a deep breath hearing his words and you feel everything coming back.

“Hey, let’s get you somewhere comfy first, sofa or bed?” 

“Bed,” you mumble into his chest. He’s wearing a soft, black hoodie that smells just like him, the scent of his cologne faintly clinging to the material. With ease, he guides you to your bedroom, and you get into the safety of your covers. He excuses himself for a second, and leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with a few things. Your phone is one of them, your heart crying a little as you read his texts from earlier on the lock screen. He climbs into bed next to you and gets comfy. You keep him at a distance, thinking it would be better to put space between yourself. He insists on at least holding your hand.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

“I’m just feeling insecure. It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I don’t deserve any of this.” You begin to put it into words.

“This?” he asks, gently.

“You, Chan. I don’t deserve you, and I know I do, I know you’ll say I do, but my brain is so good at convincing me, and I don’t know how to get her to shut up. Like, I look in the mirror and I don’t understand why you love me, like look at you, you’re perfect, I’m not.” You see his eyebrows furrow but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“I just feel so fundamentally unlovable, which is stupid, but there’s just something in my head. And I’m so scared, I’m scared that I let you in fully, and get so comfortable with you, and one day you decide I’m too much, or not enough, or too weird, or too something, and you leave me for some stupid or shallow reason that I was a fool to think wouldn’t happen.” The tears are flowing now, not as hard as before but you wipe at them. You’re no longer looking at Chan, but down at your hands where your fingers are pulling threads from the bed sheets. 

“So I guess my head has just decided that you’re better off without me, and I want  to disagree so badly, but she’s so fucking convincing, Chan, I’m sorry.” You wipe at your tears roughly, but Chan quickly replaces your hands with his own, taking your face in his hands gently. His thumbs are wiping at the tears still slowly falling.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.” You do as he says, and your tears begin to slow down even more. 

“Can I say something?” Chan says after a minute. You nod, preparing for the worst.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes look up and meet his, a look of sincerity in his own glassy eyes.

“I could never leave you, not as easy as you seem to think. No part of you could be too much or too little, or too anything for me. I love you. I love all of you. I love the parts of you I’ve seen, and I can’t wait to see the parts I haven’t seen yet so that I can love them too. I know this isn’t easy, I feel the same things sometimes, but you just have to believe me, and if you ever doubt me, I will fight you.” He ends with a chuckle. 

“Okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair gently. You nod, smiling.

“Also, who are you to decide who I love, hm?” he asks.

“An idiot,” you mumble, making him chuckle.

“I decide who I love, got it? I am choosing to love you.”

You nod your head, utterly defeated, and fall into his chest. He catches you swiftly, rubbing your back with one hand and petting your hair with the other. After a few minutes, you pop your head up to look at him. He looks at you questioningly.

“Be honest, how long were you here before I came out of the bathroom?”

“Oh, I, uh, think I heard most of it,” he says sheepishly. You groan, burying your face into his chest once more. You feel him laugh more than you hear it. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“I don’t know…” you trail off. “Loving me? Letting me cry? Being here? Something like that.” You play with one of his hoodie strings, avoiding his intense stare.

“Something like that,” he repeats quietly, half chuckling at your words. “Of course, I'd do all those things, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, finally looking up at him. He’s smiling at you, eyes soft. You lean up and press a kiss to his soft lips. He accepts it, indulging you for a few seconds until he pulls back. You’re about to pout but he catches you off guard by planting kiss after kiss on your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, and finally your mouth once more. You’re giggling by the time he’s done, and he pulls back, eyes sparkling. 

“Feeling any better?” he asks.

“No, I think I need one more.” You giggle up at him. He rolls his eyes but leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that the both of you are smiling into. The kiss feels right, and for the first time in a little while, the voice in the back of your head is quiet.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lethallyprotected

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz fluff #bang chan #chris bang #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #skz scenarios #skz chan #skz smut #skz x you #skz chan x reader #skz chan imagines #skz chan scenarios

[avaf00rdxx]

little shits

kyra Cooney-cross x teen!Reader (platonic)

why is posting my first fic embarassinggg…

anywho enjoy this piece of shit. I’ll open my requests and try to write as much as I can. Luv u all xxx

————————————————————————

You were kind of out of it though as Caitlin was trying to mouth something to you further up the gym with her hands, you put your hands up in shrug towards her, but from the conversation in front of you you heard something along the lines of “if you don’t” and Kyra saying “deal”.

“Got that y/n?” Beth grinned at you

“yup!” You quickly said before running over to Caitlin who was motioning you to help her with something.

You had lost a bet. You were reminded by Kyra that you “weren’t supposed to do anything stupid towards anyone in the team for a week” 8 days later she shrieked at you as she was changing into her swimmers in the bathroom of the locker room.

And that’s where you found yourself, In the 15 degree London weather, you were being dragged by Beth, Jen and Katie who just wanted to see this play out, down to the ocean. As you all walked down to the cool air of the beach you shrieked at the harsh breeze “nup” you said as you started running back but was caught by Katie “bets a bet” she giggled grabbing you and dragging you down the beach.

You and kyra took off both of your jumpers as you looked at each other, regret filling your eyes. There were some lunatic surfers in long wetsuits, none like the ones back home in Australia but if you were honest you were terrible with cold water. Beth pulled out her phone to camera when Jen gave Kyra a light shove towards the water, she didn’t move though.

“Ok let’s be quick” you started walking down, just ready to get it over with, a shivering mess once you got down. You noticed the 21 year old was no longer behind you but was being carried over the shoulder by the tall Jen Beattie. Your jaw hit the flor as she was completely thrown into the water head first, with Jen now in the water too. “Okay giant” you giggled as Jen quickly ran out of the water but looking back to yell at you.

“Five whole Minutes!” was screamed from the top.

“Nah it was two!” You exclaimed as Beth shook her head with a grin. You were still only up to about your bellybutton in the ice-like water. That was until ‘little shit no. 2’ jumped on your back causing your head to be pushed under water. The cold water feeling absolutely hell-like on your skin. “KYRA!” You screamed as you came back up again, knowing she was done she started swimming away fast. Though luckily you were a fast swimmer, you caught up to her and completely dunked her.

On the shore, Katie, Beth and Jen slowly started to go ankle-deep into the water to feel the temperature for themselves. “Christ that’s worse than an ice bath” Beth exclaimed quickly before removing her feet from the water.

“They are gonna turn into ice” Jen said

“Or worse completely taken out by a shark” Katie said, as Beth’s face rose with concern. “Wait how much time left?

“It’s been up for about a minute now” Beth said “you two out you come!” she yelled running up to grab your towels.

But of course, you and the slightly older girl were in your own world once again. Trying to drown each other while laughing your heads off.

————————————————————-

On a slightly chilly December weekend, you had broke the curse. You and your teammates had smashed Chelsea with a wicked 5-1 and you couldn’t be more excited, your were a striker, quite a significant one for the team, and had managed to slot in a goal in the extra time just minutes before the final whistle. As that whistle went you jumped straight to Caitlin buzzing with excitement before Alessia joined your two by jumping on your back. As you went around to all your other teammates.

You made eye contact with Leah as she quickly went on to the field, the twenty-six year old meant so much to you since joining at the club, so you sprinted into her arms. “Lee!”

“Your goal was incredible I’m so proud of you tiny!!” You grinned at the nickname the team gave you and the fact that she was proud of you. She motioned for a piggy back to you when you were put down, when you jumped on her again she started sprinting towards the rest of the team you saw Kyra talking to vic with her back to you when Leah had come to a stop you tried to jump onto Kyra’s back straight from Leah’s but failed miserably when Kyra was completely knocked down long with Vic and you. Kyra’s funny bone hit your head which she squealed in pain. Nothing serious though.

And just like all the girls around knew that a child’s fight would break out between the two of you, you got up and started running backwards away from her. She started to chase you as you were laughing your guts off. You and Kyra were absolute toddlers anytime everywhere as the crowd and team completely stopped and watched in amusement.

————————————————————-

‘Harps!” You squealed as the Gorry toddler jumped into your arms in the lobby of the Hotel. You noticed most of the team standing around chatting as all the ‘London Aussies’ piled into the building.

“I missed you!” Her tiny voice exclaimed which made your heart melt. “I missed you heaps!”

You and Harper got along beautifully, she was like your little sidekick when at camp, the girl would not dare to leave your side the whole two weeks. Steph laughed with Mini behind you, greeting each other and laughing how you left your bags stranded right near the bus when you saw the small girl, Steph having to wheel them in.

“Mins!” You smiled as you gave her a warm hug.

After more hugs and hello’s were exchanged you all headed up to your respective rooms. Since it was only around lunch time you had a small meeting with Tony but were then allowed ‘chill out time’ before dinner and bed time. You, Mackenzie, Alanna and Caitlin were sitting on bean bags in the main room talking about random things and your Christmas plans. When Charli was completely thrown onto your head from behind.

“Ow” you laughed.

“Kyra!” Charli said towards the girl that was pushed onto you.

“Little shit” you mumbled

“Oi you can’t talk miss” Caitlin smirked before quickly going on about your latest stunt you and Kyra pulled together back in London making the other girls laugh. You soon got tired of hearing how good you are at getting away with pranks. As you curiously went to search through a cupboard that had some coloured things peaking out the bottom which amused you. You opened it to find random things from craft kits to movie projectors. You started to move things a little as you crouched down to find more. That’s when you pulled out a large white karaoke machine laying on it’s side, it was beyond you on how it got in there and managed to fit.

“What’s that?” Macca asked as you stood it up-right once it was pulled out. You didn’t reply as you smirked at Kyra who knew exactly what it was. “Awesome” Macca sarcastically said after no reply from you.

For backstory, you and Alessia found one in a room at your training grounds back in London. And you pair along with Kyra and the help of Leah’s terrible singing completely wore it out as it sparked and suddenly broke. Obviously, the mums of the team like Kim and Viv got mad that you nearly could have sent it up in flames.

“Oh no no no” Steph breathed out as she walked in to see you and Kyra teaching Macca and Alanna how to start it up so they could perform their duet to some random old Justin Bieber sing. “You set this hotel on fire, no blaming me to Kim that I didn’t stop you”.

And that’s how the night ended the whole team gathering around and taking turns in partners to sing away. With you and Kyra taking over the micv for more than half of the songs. “No way” you muttered as it suddenly stopped working.

“You-“ Hayley started and then laughed from where she was laying on the floor watching you.

“They’re cursed I swear” Kyra said as you put your arms up in a shrug towards steph.

#caitlin foord #arsenal women #matildas #woso #auswnt #katie mccabe #arsenal #sam kerr #mackenzie arnold #alessia russo #hayley raso #beth mead #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #kyra cooney cross #kcc #barclays wsl #alanna kennedy #australia #caitlin foord imagines #steph catley #kristie mewis #wsl #sam kerr x reader

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

can you do human Alastor with reader who’s like Velma Kelly from the musical Chicago? Fem reader please! and maybe mimzy is a bit jealous?

A/N: I love Chicago and Velma Kelly! I’ll be basing it off of the movie version just because it’s easier for me but tysm anon for your request!! I was on a writing block / super long break, but i’m hoping to try and get into the swing of things again! Hopefully I’ll be posting more and getting requests out since I have some good ones I do wanna expand on! We all know I’m a fien for human Alastor so I was really excited to write this.

Warnings: mentions of death & murder, fluff

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

All That Jazz

He thinks you’re too full of yourself

He doesn’t like it about you, but also doesn’t like when other people insult you

Hes seen you live before, and honestly he was impressed

You dance quick and can keep up with him when you both dance together

He loves when you sing All that Jazz, he’s even rehearsed with you before

Now he does know about your sister and how you… you know, got rid of her and your ex-husband

Unfortunately for him, you work at Mimzys rival speakeasy, so Alastor sneakily goes to see you, though he doesn’t really care if Mimzy does find out

In his opinion his darling doe is a fine better singer than Mimzy but he’d never tell her that

He doesn’t have too, not when Mimzy drags him and a few of their other friends to your club to see you preform

Mimzy quote ¨didnt know why you were so popular¨

I mean for christs sake you killed a man and your own sister!

Well now she understands why you’re so popular, after seeing the way you sang and danced on stage

People were cheering and clapping by the end of your number, but you had so much more in store for them tonight

Especially if you knew you were being watched by a certain someone

You shake your hips a bit more and lift your skirt just enough to entice the crowd, give them something a little more to look forward too

Mimzy almost dies when you and Roxie do a number together, the guns and the flare, the white coats and dresses

People throwing roses at the two of you as you both exit the stage and Mimzy is fuming in her seat, no wonder her club is losing money when they have two acts practically running around naked on stage

Alastor meets you backstage in your dressing room where you’re freshening up your hair

Your manager comes in with Alastor in toe, his grin wide as he holds out a bouquet of roses.

¨You were great tonight dear!¨ He says, handing the flowers to you. Your dressing room has various bouquets all from him sitting on different shelves and tables.

¨Thank you so much, these will go right next to my mirror.¨ You say, taking the bouquet from Alastor with a kiss on his cheek. He smiles as he watches you put the bouquet next to your mirror.

¨ Would you like to get dinner dear? I hear a new restaurant has opened and it would be nice to give it a try. What do you say?¨ He asks, before you smile at him through the mirror.

¨I think I like that idea ¨ you say.

Heaven forbid anyone ever offend you in his presence, he WILL throw a fit and then go on a ten minute rant about how good of a dancer and singer you are.

Will sing with you while he plays the piano

Will ask you to sing for him whenever, but loves when you sing to him before bed

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor

[bluebeary-jay]

Halcyon days

Based on this ask (i was stupid and started writing all this as a new post and not an answer im sorryyy)

Tags: fluff. INSANE amount of tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, takes place after the events of season 1

Warnings: none? there is swearing and suggestive humor tho ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word count: ~3K

A/N: My sweet anon I'm sorry that I didn't write the 'looking for a place to sleep' bit but I got carried away with your lovely request and it was already longer than I expected lol. I really hope you like it!! 💕 and thank you for being my first request! 😊

You shielded your eyes from the sun and shook your hand again, signaling for Joel to take it.

“Come on, you always whine about your back pains. It’ll do you good.”

“You think lyin’ on the cold hard ground will help me with that?” he asked with tongue in cheek.

“It's actually really soft. Come on, give it a try.” You patted the spot next to you, but the man still didn't move, scouting the area around you instead. You sighed heavily. “Alright, if it's too hard for your back I'll let you lay on me. Happy?”

Joel gave you a sultry look and finally intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I can already tell the ground will be really uncomfortable,” he said teasingly in this sexy drawl of his and you squinted at him.

“Sure you can.”

Joel craned his neck before he let himself get pulled down, and cupped his free hand around his mouth.

“Hey, kiddo!” he yelled to Ellie who was squatting near a small creek down the hill you were lying on. “You alright there?!”

“Yeah, yeah!” the girl shouted back, waving to you both. “Don't come down here, yet!”

“Okay! We’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Sure thing! Just don't start shagging.”

You choked on air and looked in disbelief in the direction of Ellie’s voice, though you couldn't see the teen from where you were lying, as the view was obscured by high grass.

“Christ, this kid is impossible,” you mumbled as Joel sat down next to you with a loud grunt.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know. You didn’t hear her giving me so-called ‘relationship advices’ yesterday. And no,” he added when you opened your mouth, “m’not gonna repeat them to you. It was painful enough to have to endure it alone.”

“You know what they say,” you quirked your lips and he sent you a glare.

“I swear to god, if you quote that dumb comic again…”

You snorted, knowing he was saying it with fondness, judging by his tone and a tug of the corners of his lips. Joel shook his head and laid down slowly on the grass, closing his eyes. You cosied up next to him on your stomach and propped your chin on your hands.

For a couple of seconds you just admired his features and slow rise and falls of his chest, enjoying the quiet atmosphere around you and listening to the crickets chirping and birds singing in the tree crowns.

But of course he didn’t let you indulge yourself, because before long he cracked one eye open and sent you a suspicious glance.

“Why’re you staring?”

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” you answered without missing a beat. Joel wiped his face with an irritated look while you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud.

“Is it still there?” he asked, but you winced and tilted your head discontentedly.

“You just smudged it more. Hold on a second.”

He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes again when you shuffled closer, partially draping yourself over his torso. One of his arms automatically encircled your waist to cuddle you up while he kept the other one under his head. You smirked to yourself and took his face between your hands, pretending to hum in focus. After a couple of seconds Joel cracked his eye open and glanced up at you.

“Jesus, I can feel you burning a hole in my skull. Is my head covered in fungi, or something?”

“Not yet,” you joked. “Keep your eyes closed.”

He exhaled heavily again and relaxed under you, totally oblivious to the mischievous smirk on your face. You faked scraping something off his cheek and when you were pretty sure he lowered his guard, you surged forward and quickly gave the bridge of his nose a small peck.

Joel’s eyes immediately snapped open and a surprised – and then delighted – smile spread across his face.

“What are you doin’?”

“Nothing at all,” you answered innocently, but this time you couldn’t hide a sly grin threatening to split your face in half. “I told you you have something on your cheek.”

Joel made a sound of fake acknowledgment and took his other hand from under his head to pull you even closer and on top of himself. You giggled when he nudged your nose with his, trailing his fingers up and down the back of your neck.

“On my cheek, you say?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think you got it, then. You aimed at my nose,” he mused cheekily, making you laugh again.

“Oh, you’re right! Silly me.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw this time, smiling against his facial hair. “Let me…” another kiss, this time on his forehead, “...try again, then…” another, next to his eye, “...just to be sure.”

It wasn’t often that Joel let you (and himself) be so affectionate when you weren’t alone, but you guessed Ellie was far enough that he didn’t worry about it now. Or maybe he was just in a good mood – it happened a lot more often lately.

After everything that transpired in the hospital, you were worried Ellie wasn’t going to believe his version of events and shut herself off, but whether the teen still doubted your and Joel’s words or not, she didn’t seem eager to distance herself from you two.

Which was a damn big relief for you, and even a greater one for Joel – not that he’d ever admit it.

Anyone who would bother to look could see that the man was a lot happier lately. He found his brother, he had you, and he didn’t lose Ellie like you knew he feared. The three of you still went on trips outside of Jackson – or like Ellie liked to call them, ‘spontaneous adventures’ – and this was one of the places you personally liked the most. A secluded meadow with a hill overgrown with flowers and leading down to a small torrent at the base of it. Noone has ever ventured so far beyond the especially-hard-to-cross portion of the river, but the place was worth the effort as it was so beautiful, it looked like it was pulled out of a fairy tale.

Speaking of beautiful, Joel cupped your cheeks and let his warm gaze rove over your face as if he wanted to commit it to memory. You were just about to ask if you had something on your face as well, when he spoke up quietly.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn gorgeous you are?” he asked, brushing the strands of your hair out of your face.

“Stop it,” you snapped back, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, but Joel tsked, guiding your chin to look at you again.

“You are,” he said, sounding almost surprised at how bashful you got, before his lips stretched into a smirk. “Are you just fishin’ for compliments, darlin’? Denyin’ it so that I can praise you more?”

“I’m not!” You laughed at the sheer thought of that and Joel took that opportunity to plant a kiss above your mouth. “If anything, you’re just trying to rile me up and get me to compliment you.”

“Don’t even try,” he warned you seriously, but you just shrugged with a playful expression.

“Well, I have to remind you sometimes how good-looking you are,” you whispered against his lips, smiling brightly when you felt his breathless chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“Not until–”

He cut you off by sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you up carefully so he could kiss you deeply. You smiled into the kiss, knowing very well what he’s doing, but not minding it in the slightest.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you accused him when the two of you parted, but he shook his head and tutted. His thumb was brushing your cheek slowly and your body burned in all places he was touching you. You reminded yourself about Ellie’s words and tried to calm down.

“Nah. You had somethin’ on your face, too, and I wanted to return the favor.”

He was so silly sometimes, you almost couldn’t believe that those hands were capable of anything else than caressing your skin so lovingly.

“Liar,” you whispered, earning yourself a low chuckle.

“I could say the same about you.”

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you when he turned you over in a swift motion so that now you were lying on your back with the man hovering above you. Whatever protests you might’ve had, they were swallowed down by Joel’s lips on yours, and you hummed happily at the feeling of his touch.

The two of you took several minutes to enjoy each other’s company to the fullest, planting lazy kisses on your faces and whispering silly words of affection. At one point Joel sighed contently, peppering the edge of your jaw and neck with soft kisses, and then laid his head on your chest. One of his arms snaked around your waist to hug you tighter and he closed his eyes.

You pressed your lips together not to giggle, and started to slowly run your fingers through his hair. He groaned and you felt his muscles relaxing under your touch.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmured and you kissed the crown of his head softly.

“Maybe that’s exactly my plan. You don’t get enough rest.”

“Stop,” he said again, though he didn't make any attempt to pull away or stop you himself. “Someone's gotta keep an eye on everything.”

“I’ll make sure we’re safe,” you shushed him, gently scratching the spot behind his ear, to which he made a sound not unlike purring. You suppressed a smile. “Besides, I’ve never seen an infected around here. The chances of something stumbling upon us…”

“...are much higher if we let our guard down,” he finished, his hand going to the gun lying on the grass on his other side to make sure he could reach it quickly. “I don’t want something to happen to you or Ellie.”

“I know, love,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again, trying to make some of those worry wrinkles disappear. “Just close your eyes for a moment. I’ll make sure nothing happens during this time.”

He sighed again and nuzzled his head more into your chest. “You’re a treasure, darlin’.”

“Obviously,” you murmured in response and felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you, too.” He shook his head lightly, but the smile didn’t fade from his face. “Even though you’re a menace.”

“Shut up and relax already. I’ll stand guard.”

He just grumbled again. You took a deep breath of summer air and looked up to the sky.

*****

You didn’t plan on falling asleep.

Even before you opened your eyes, having registered a tip of a shoe nudging your arm and rousing you from your nap, you felt this terrible, gnawing feeling of guilt and panic. Joel would kill you if…

But no, he was still asleep with his head lying heavily on your chest. You sighed with relief and opened your eyes, squinting at Ellie standing above you.

“Finally! How loud do I have to ‘psst!’ for you to wake up? Jesus, I started to think you both are dead.”

You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy, but that was always the case when you fell asleep in the middle of the day. It was an hour or so before sunset now, and the field you rested on was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

“Not dead,” you yawned drowsily and nodded at the teen. “What’s up?”

Ellie pointed at Joel. “Wake up the old man.”

You furrowed your brows. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to push you both down the hill,” she whispered in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes when you lifted your eyebrows. “I have something to show you, if you really need to know.”

She did have one of her hands hidden behind her back, so it wasn’t completely unlikely. Still, something about it smelled fishy.

“Why didn’t you wake him up yourself?” you asked in a whisper, too, honestly surprised that you both still had to keep your voices down. Usually the slightest sound woke Joel up, but now he didn’t even stir. Ellie groaned and pointed her hand at you both, like it was obvious.

“Because last time he gave me a bunch of shit about it! And he won’t be mad at you if you do this.”

She had a point, if you wanted to be honest with yourself. Normally you would tease her for it, but lately Ellie rarely acted so secretive and excited, so you decided to humor her this time.

“I’ll blame it on you if he gets angry at me.”

“I’ll really push you down the hill if you do.”

You stick your tongue out at her, which Ellie mirrored, before rolling your eyes and shifting your attention to the man still lying motionlessly on top of you.

“Joel…” you mumbled into his skin, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. A low grumble issued from his chest and you chuckled despite yourself, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. You pretended not to hear Ellie gagging in the background. “Come on, I know you’re not asleep.”

He sighed heavily and finally opened his eye, but then he shifted his gaze to Ellie’s form, and let his eyelid drop again.

“Get rid of the kid,” he murmured, snuggling back into your chest.

His head started to shake from the laughter reverberating inside your chest and Ellie gasped indignantly, now having no reservations about going around you and kicking Joel’s leg.

“Fuck off and get your lazy ass up!”

Joel sighed martyrly, as if that was the greatest sacrifice somebody could demand from him, but finally got up, freeing you from under his weight but also depriving you of his safe embrace. He looked at Ellie and lifted his eyebrows, waiting.

The girl in question grinned and pulled a bunch of flowers from behind her back.

Before you realized that it actually wasn’t a bouquet, but several flower crowns, Joel was already shaking his head and actually backing away. “No. No way.”

“Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful, Ellie!” you admired her work, not paying attention to the man behind you, and shifted closer to get a better look. “Where did you learn that?”

“One of those books Tommy gave me had a guide how to do it,” Ellie explained with a wide smile. It surprised you a little that she’d be so enthusiastic about a skill like that, but then she turned back to Joel and her eyes glinted with mischief. “C’mon, try it on.”

“No.”

“Can I pick one?” you asked, once again ignoring your partner. Ellie shook her head, now not even trying to hide a proud, mocking grin that widened when she saw how reluctant Joel was.

“No. Yours is the one with those small yellow shits.” You snorted at the name Ellie gave tiny, round flowers, but put it on immediately. The girl held the crown made out of blue and purple flowers on her lap, and stuck out the last one with small pink and white flowers in Joel’s direction. “And that’s all yours.”

“No,” he repeated. You sat next to Ellie and turned to him with a fake pout on your face.

“Joel, we don't turn down gifts. It's not polite.” He glared at you as you leaned on Ellie’s shoulder. “Ellie has worked on it for so long, think how exhausting it must've been!”

“Look at my poor, tired hands,” Ellie sighed dramatically, lifting her hands and wiggling her fingers, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

Joel looked from her to you with a grimace. You mouthed ‘please?’ to him and he groaned, running his hands down his face.

And then – making Ellie snort and you jump excitedly in place – he took the flower crown from the girl and all but dropped it onto his head.

“Joke’s on you, because I know for a fact pink looks great on me.”

“Glad you think so, because…” Ellie trailed off with a shit-eating grin and threw her backpack on the ground, quickly rummaging through it. You grabbed onto Joel’s arm before he had a chance to escape when she pulled out one of those old cameras with a flip screen, making him sigh even louder. “Now move your ass.”

While Ellie was positioning herself between the two of you and turning on the device, you quickly lifted Joel’s hand to your lips behind her back, kissing his fingers with a grateful smile. He seemed to have given in to his fate, not making any attempt to move away or talk his way out of it, just rubbing his brow with a tired expression. The smallest of smiles found its way onto his face when he felt your lips on his skin and he glanced up at you with fondness.

“You two will be the death of me,” he muttered, and Ellie poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Shut up and smile. We don’t have much sunlight left.”

You scooted over closer to Ellie to fit in the frame, squinting a little from the reddish-orange sun blinding you from behind a cloud above the horizon. The girl snapped one photo and made a different face, and in that split second your eyes darted to Joel’s in the small screen of the camera.

He still looked very reluctant to be in a photo, but you could see he was trying to hold back a smile.

He did look good in pink. And you meant the flowers as well as the small blush adoring his cheeks.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #because i cant write a fic without her in it #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #pedro pascal #beary writes

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Peeta as the smallest of 3 brothers definitely had to resort to dirty plays like biting in his youth.

First off, you're right and you should say it. Second off, Peeta being the youngest is 1000% a dynamic in his relationship with Katniss once they start to recover.

No bc listen. I was the youngest of three siblings and while we never got into physical fights I learned QUICK how to use my mouth to win what battles couldn't be fought physically because my siblings would 100% go to jail for trying to rock a 3 y/os shit. So Peeta was running his mouth religiously around the household. Can't tell me otherwise. "If it weren't for the baby??" Girl, he was biting AND flappin his lips. 100% would get pinned to the ground by his brothers and be like "wow I feel bad for your girlfriend" before getting his shit rocked. He'll offer them tips inbetween punches. "Aim for the throat. Wow, you're still pathetic."

Second, Katniss is the eldest, Peeta is the youngest in their families. Once they're more secure in their relationship, Peeta is 100% causing fun! problems 24/7. She's stressed the fuck out she's gonna come home one day from hunting again and half the house is repainted with all of the furniture just shoved into one big pile away from the drying walls like "WHY DID YOU DO THIS??" "bored :))" because he's so dangerously intelligent, I'm thoroughly convinced he's a practical fucking moron. He probably had to create his own entertainment as a child, he's used to being ignored. If he gets an idea to rearrange the furniture, he just does it. Katniss and Haymitch both have to intervene with how much this happens because Katniss complained about it to Effie once, and Effie started rambling about this thing called "feng-shui," and now Peeta is completely obsessed and will spend several hours to the point of obsession planning with Effie not just his decor, but literally fucking everyones, and Katniss tried to warn Haymitch "Hey, we need to fucking stop this," and Haymitch just said "get out of my house." But now Haymitch is too sober to deal with the constantly changing furniture, and why is this idiot painting his ceiling, and can you please pick up a hobby that doesn't involve majorly changing the layout of our houses? Peeta says no. Katniss instead comes home to Peeta having several geese chasing him at Haymitchs training. He's been waiting for an excuse to reveal this.

She stops feeling bad for needing his constant comfort once he starts biting her out of boredom. Oh, come on. You can see it. He would absolutely look at her arm one night and go "you look nice :))" before taking a giant fucking bite that makes her question every decision she made from age 16-18. There's a solid minute where they just sit in their bed at a standstill. She's holding her book in shock, he's just frozen still biting her. She says "What the fuck" he says "nostalgia :))" to which she's further confused and slightly terrified. She learns how to duck. He learns how to lure her in easier. Post-canon angst + comfort is cute, give me chaotic Peeta torturing his wife who just wants five minutes of peace but secretly adores her dangerously clever idiot of a husband

Imagine when they have kids. That woman is gonna go from "peetas baby!" To "your child."

He likes tossing the motherfuckers in the air. He's the kinda dad who will take off RUNNING with the shopping cart, shove the thing as far away as he can and just wave "bye bye! :))" to the baby inside of the cart that's laughing wildly while Katniss is just chasing this fucking thing down through the store like it's the quarter quell all over again and everyone else is just watching like "Jesus Christ he's doing it again." It gets worse when Peeta collaborates his children with the attacking geese to use against Haymitch when he tries to prevent him from repainting his ceiling again.

#peeta mellark #peeta and katniss #everlark #peeniss #the hunger games katniss #the hunger games peeta #peeta thg #thg peeta #thg #thg series #post canon #post mockingjay #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games #josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #ask #hunger games #josh hutcherson fanfic #peeta #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x Fem! Reader

honey I’m home masterlist

TW: 18+ hospitals, trauma, crying, etc

A/N: this is a short little chapter. the next one will be longer— thank you for hanging onto this story even though it took me forever to get it started. I have most of the next chapter done so it’ll probably be posted next week.

The blue and red lights are blinking in rapid succession. Painting the curtains in washes of ruby and royal. 

  The sirens should have been loud but Eddie figured it was the blood trickling down his head and into his ear canal that was preventing him from hearing clearly. 

  He fought with the first responders. 

  Fought with the people fussing over him and trying to rush him into an ambulance. 

  He refused to leave you. 

  He didn’t need to be cared for. 

  He didn’t care about anything. 

  Only you.

  Mr. Derry’s loud knock and burst through the door was the exact distraction needed for Eddie to grip the bat in his bloody hand. 

  Rings squeezing tight around blood and the wooden handle, he swung hard. A suddenly athlete in a smokers body. He felt the thuds and friction vibrating in his forearms when the nailed head connected with flesh. But he didn’t stop until there were two crumpled bodies collapsed on the red stained carpet. 

  And when the ambulance crew met him at the door, gurney ready, you were wrapped tight in his arms. A faint pulse echoed like a whisper against your skin. Eddie’s tears streaming down his face and onto yours. 

  His promise pressed delicately to your lips.

—

  “What have we got?” 

  “According to the patient’s friend, she is twenty-one-year, sir! you need to be looked at, and lived by herself for the past few months..” 

  I’m fine! Jesus— get off me and help her! 

  “…call came in at 2208 from a Mr. William Derry— the neighbor— claiming there were screams coming from across the street of his residence on Cherry Lane. Dispatch didn’t think to respond right away due to the many calls Mr. Derry has submitted to the Police Department.”

  “Sir, I am not telling you again, you need to be checked out!” 

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “When nobody showed up, the neighbor went across the street after hearing more screaming. Patient was held up by her throat by the DOA”

  “Bill has him in truck 011, ID found on the body confirmed he was Chad Cunningham.” 

—-

Eddie is standing before you, looking the same has he did the morning g after Halloween. It’s similar but different. There’s more light in the kitchen, and he is rosy cheeked like a cherub, his movements almost floating like angel wings as he moves the carton of orange juice hp to his lips, small glints of a silver nipple ring peaking out from the cutoff shirt he wore. 

  When he speaks, it’s like a harp is playing, all song and beautiful notes, extending and echoing around the room. 

  “So when do I get this trophy sweetheart?” He says with a grin, “thinking of putting on a shelf in my room,” 

  Your laugh feels like butterflies tickling your stomach, “you can’t be serious.” 

  His head dips as he walks towards you, smile displaying the prettiest teeth, “damn straight, want the whole town to know I had the best costume!”

  “Stolen costume,”

  “Pppffft, I just borrowed it.” the wink he delivers is almost sinful, toothachingly sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity, and you melt on the spot. 

— 

“Miss? Can you tell us your name? Can you tell us anything?” 

  Sterile. 

  Chemical.

  You were either in a hospital or a morgue. You didn’t feel any pain so it very likely could be the worst of the two options. Whatever you were laying on was cold. And when you tried to move you found you couldn’t. 

  Is this death?

  Eyelids heavy and unable to cooperate and make the connection with your brain on flicking open so you could see what was happening. 

  The only thing constant was a buzzing in both ears. A tug along your eyelids and rubber glove fingers on your body. But you were trapped in your mind, unable to speak, to scream, to show any physical movements other than the involuntary rise and fall of your chest and your lungs being filled with oxygen, fed through flexible plastic of the oxygen mask placed on your face. 

  Oblivious to your surroundings. 

  “Severe trauma to both eyes, laceration to the back of the head, severe swelling and possible damage to the larynx, Katerina, what did the CT show?” 

  “CT came back clear, X-Ray showed a break to both zygomatic bones, 5th and 6th ribs and a lacerated spleen…”

  “Look at her nails, poor thing fought for her life,” 

  “they both did.” 

  You found the will to whisper what you needed to tell them. Voice hoarse and barely audible, removing the mask they look in horror back at your words, and  immediately the feeling of warm liquid entering your veins and the blur of sleep covers your body. 

—

  He visits you again, this time you know it’s a dream. The pink clouds flow behind his head even though you are standing in the living room. But it’s different, blurred on the edges, hazy sweet and refined. How heaven could be described. 

  “I look good in this don’t even lie,” Eddie says with a spin, the white cotton of your robe resembling a mini skirt on his long legs, “but if you want me to take it off all you have to do is ask, I’m a pleaser, baby.”

  He was every version of himself, handsome, gross and menacing. Sweet and caring, eye twinkling, soft voiced: Eddie. The beer taped to his hand like it was all those months ago when you splashed him awake, threatening to kick him out. 

  Delivering his classic one liners that you now knew helped fuel your love for him. 

  “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

  And maybe your love for him was always there. 

  Showing up in the background, fluttering bird wings of your heart before you even noticed. 

  Developing into something sweeter, deeper, so heartbreakingly sick it took a disaster and almost the last pulse in your veins for you to be able to admit it. 

  -

Steve had been pacing the cream colored tiles for over thirty minutes. The squeak of his Nikes against the floor were something Eddie was trying hard to focus on instead of worrying about you in the ICU, but so far it wasn’t working.

  The nasal cannula was annoying, he could breathe fine on his own. The stitches in his eyebrow itched and stung with each weave through his skin, pulled taut around the swelling in his face. 

  The shot the nurses had administered to calm him down after screaming and trying to fight his way to you, was making his mind fuzzy— still, Steve’s pacing kept him company. Step step step squeak, step step step hand in hair, followed by an agitated huffing breath.

  A nurse with a long blond ponytail braided down her back opens the polyester curtain with a drag and slips inside the room. A black rubber and steel stethoscope around her neck, before she could introduce herself Steve exploded with fury. 

  “Tell me what the hell is going on in this poor excuse for a hospital, right now!” Steve’s hair shook from its feathered position when he spoke, his demanding voice booming across the tiles. 

  Without missing a beat and clearly dealing with high strung men before she said almost monotonously, “Sir, you need to calm yourself down, this is a h-”

  But Steve’s fire was only fueled by her dismissive tone, his voice never wavering, “No, I will not calm down! The police were made aware of this situation a year ago and nothing was ever done!” 

  The police officer standing outside guarding entry to the room tipped his head in slow, “Mr. Harrington, we hear your complaints but there isn’t anything we can—”

  “Bullshit!” A tear stain cheeked Robin sobbed, her face red and blotchy from hours of crying and rubbing her freckles clean, “Eddie told you what happened yet he’s still cuffed to a bed like a fucking criminal!”

  She broke down again, clinging to Steve’s side like a wounded child, sobbing into the soft cotton of his crewneck sweater. “This is unethical! Unco—”

  “Alright that’s enough hot shot,” Hopper shouts in finality towards Steve, a wrinkle burrowed deep in his forehead accompanied with graying thick eyebrows set in a devastating frown. 

  “Chief,” Wayne interjects, cap wringing in his calloused, wrinkle bared hands, his voice wobbly but steady, runny nose and wet tears cling to his scruffy beard, “my son was protectin’ that girl, you know Eddie…he’d never hurt someone unless his life or someone he cared about was in danger.” 

  Hopper tore his gaze from the one of the richest in the room to the poorest, hanging his head with sorrow, “ ‘m sorry, Wayne— but until Mr. Derry’s statement comes back and Eddie is cleared… the cuffs stay.” 

  Wayne hung his head low, the few wiry hairs on his balding head stuck in all sorts of directions despite his attempt at raking them into submission. 

  “Jim Hopper you should be ashamed of yourself,” Karen Wheeler spoke up now, head held high, claw clip  teetering with each gesturing movement of her head, “you know good and well this boy couldn’t have done that to her! They loved each other!” 

  Since the pacing of Steve’s feet had stopped Eddie’s heart rattled hard in his chest, he clawed at the heart monitors on his chest, tried to bite the IV’s from his arms, caged like a wild animal he let out a broken cry, “ple— please, she needs me.”

  “Mr. Munson,” the nurse with blonde hair replies sternly, “she is in critical condition, we don’t know if or when she will be able to to recover, she is heavily sedated and needs rest, her only visitors will be family at this time.” 

  “Speaking of,” another nurse chirps, young and fresh gilled, entirely too eager to please her superior, “do you know how to get a hold of her family?”

  He shakes his head slow, causing a pounding headache, “I am her family,” Eddie grunts through clenched teeth, pushing himself up on the bed as far as his cuffs would allow, Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Look around this room! Ted and Karen Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Byers.. we are all she has,” a single tear falls down his bruised cheek, liquid salt in the cut in his top lip. 

  “Okay sir.. who is responsible for her?” 

  “In regards to what? Financially? You money hungry pricks just don’t let up so you?,” Ted Wheeler finally speaks behind his wife, shock and anger evident on his wrinkled features.

  “Not exactly…”

  “Whatever it is, I will handle it, alright?” Eddie interjects, annoyed with the questions, worried only about you, “I’m responsible for her.”

  “Oh,” the nurse says, perking up slightly, marking a red check mark on her clipboard, smoothing out her uniform, “so you are aware of her condition then.” 

  Light bulbs click for everyone in the room but the curly brown haired metal head. 

  Oh my God

  …Tooty

  Holy shit.

  “That she got the shit kicked out of her by that fucking psycho Chad Cunningham?”

  Eddie.

  Ma’am can we talk privately in the hall? 

  “…obviously I’m aware! I was there when it happened! That dumb fuck already took my statement!” he said gesturing to Deputy Wallace. 

  “No, Mr. Munson..”

  This isn’t the time for this! Wayne tried to warn the nurse, but it fell on deaf, naive ears.

  “…she’s right around twelve weeks pregnant.” 

  A pin dropping could have been heard from a mile away. The oxygen was sucked from the room. Karen’s hand was clapped around her mouth. Nancy and Robin choked back sobs.  

  Everyone was struck with horror, but not Eddie. 

  His mind playing that beautiful night between you like a movie in his head. The way your skin felt, the way his heart ached with fullness at your shared fervor and passion. 

  REWIND

  PLAY

  The curve of your lips on his skin, kissing him sweet and slow, no noise, just the love making swallowing you both whole. 

  REWIND 

  PLAY

  PAUSE 

  Your soft snores as he counted the popcorn marks in the ceiling, his girl. His entire universe. 

  STOP

  EJECT 

  The tears rolled like a ferocious river down his face, carving a path down his cheeks and under his wobbling chin, wetting the hospital gown he was forced into when he got here. 

  You were alone.

  He didn’t know anything about pregnancy besides the woman usually got sick right? Every emotion that most men feel when finding out they were going to be a dad hit him all at once. 

  But not fear. 

  He imagined you with a big swollen belly, feet too pudgy to fit into shoes, he’d rub them with lotion until you could fall asleep. 

  He’d imagined his arms holding you from behind, your baby wrapped in his arms still in your womb. The relief you might feel from the weight being in his hands. 

  You were experiencing this pain all by yourself. 

  He couldn’t fathom how you were feeling. Scared. Hopeless? He had no idea. And the thought of you being alone had him nauseous. 

  Why didn’t you didn’t tell him?  

  Why didn’t anyone tell him? 

  His fury built and shook as his voiced boom with grief as he screamed at Steve, dark eyes blood shot and red rimmed. 

  “How could you,” he broke, struggling through the words, "why would you not tell me?!” The cuffs around his wrist broke skin as he tried to claw his way out of them, trying to reach at Steve’s shirt demanding to be heard. 

  “Ed— fuck man!” Steve started, mouth gaping at Eddie’s arms dripping with blood from his fresh wounds, “we didn’t know!” 

  Robin speaks now, trying to reach for Eddie’s hand to offer him some comfort, “She didn’t tell us, Eddie—Steve is right, she didn’t say a word to any of us about it.” 

  “Fuck!” Eddie screams, slamming his wrists into the bed sides, “I sh—should h-have..,” the end falls silent as his long legs were pulled to his chin and he buried his head into them. 

  In the minutes it had been since he found out, he was already a shitty fucking dad.

  The pain of what happened to you and him not being able to stop it quick enough was killing him, and now, realizing that you were carrying his child and you were all alone? 

  There weren’t words for the gut wrenching feeling ripping through him. Overwhelming dread, chest tight with panic and pain. The nausea overtaking him. The vomit came fast, splashing allover himself and the bed, landing in thick puddles on Steve’s shoes. He cried harder and sobbed uncontrollably. When his stomach was empty he could only dry heave. 

  Wayne moved across the tiled floor in quick steps, careful not to slip in the wayward puke in his path. Sitting down hard and with purpose next to Eddie. This wasn’t his first rodeo of seeing Eddie in this turmoil. But never as a grown man. 

  He tried his hardest to hold back the tears he swore he’d never let fall in front of his boy, but gravity won the fight when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug, his sobs snuffed by the canvas of his work jacket. 

———

It was a full 12 hours before Mr. Derry’s statement was released. Tough old bird, he couldn’t be coerced even with the gentle threat from the Cunningham’s came down hard breathing down his neck. 

  Surely not their son? Their angel?

  But the proof was there. An eye witness statement and a severely beaten woman, the record from years past and the statement from both Steve and Robin on what happened last year at your apartment, stood its ground. 

  Eddie was cleared as a free man, self defense in the eyes of the law. The second his cuffs were off he was throwing his boots onto his gripper socked feet, and untangling himself from wires and needles. 

  Steve and Wayne had both taken off work to help Eddie pick up his medication and make him go home and rest. When he tried to protest, Wayne gave Eddie a look that could pierce steel, the kind of look saying no bullshit, and begrudgingly he followed the men out to Steve’s Mercedes. 

  Nancy and Karen stayed behind at the hospital, filling your room with heavily perfumed flowers. Hushed whispers between the mother and daughter as they prayed and hoped that you would make it out of this horrific nightmare. 

  The doctors would only speak to Eddie. Letting him aware that your condition was improving but they would not be able to lift the sedation just yet. A day passed then another. Eddie slept in the hospital grade recliner in your room each night. Singing you sweet lulls of your favorite song. Promising you the world if you would just open your eyes. 

  He was weak himself. Fighting the urge to break down in front of anyone again with each hour that passed. 

-

4 days led to 5 and the nurses and doctors whispered behind their clipboards. On the 6th day they decided to lift the sedation to see how your body would tolerate pain. 

  Eddie never left. 

  Machines beeped and ticked. Tubes and wires connecting from you drip with fluid and monitoring systems. The white walls and outdated curtains of the hospital shine a yellowed glow into your room, bringing with it a warmth to your cotton thread blanket and warming the skin on your arms. A welcomed feeling compared to the cold needles of the IV poking into your skin delivering flows of medicine and liquids to keep you hydrated and your pain manageable. 

  Foiled balloons printed with get well wishes bounce and sway with the kick on from the vent. 

  One of your hands is unexpectedly warmer than the other. A rough drag across the knobs of your knuckles is a familiar feeling, and you smell him before you even open your eyes to acknowledge that it’s him. 

  The clinging smell of cigarettes on a freshly washed shirt and the spice of deodorant force their way into your nose. It’s a different shampoo than the one you’re used to catching on him. More manly. All sandalwood and musk a hint of citrus. And at first you think he’s someone else… maybe Steve picked up smoking heavily again?

  But when a tuned hum reverberates low against your hand followed by a pair of lips kissing gently around the IV and tape poked and laid against your skin, you know for certain it’s the man you’ve been dreaming about. 

  The one you cried for. 

  The one who visited your sleeping mind and told you everything was going to be okay.

  His name falls from your lips like choked frozen honey, thick in your mouth and on a dry tongue. 

  It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. 

  His girl. His whole world. Awake.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

[shipmanisms]

you belong to me ⋆🪽

҂ summary: jackie being possessive over reader before they even start dating and even more after cause she's a lil obsessed pookie :3

҂ warnings: a lil bit of jackie ghostface cuz i had to add it SORRY 😣

҂ a/n: posting this early cuz i got 2 nat fics hopefully coming in today so :D ( scared this is gonna flop )

you guys were friends but really only talked in school and when you had soccer practice

if she saw misty or natalie talking to you she'd immediately shoot daggers at them w her eyes and then just walk off

but if she saw them HITTING on you, not just talking, GIRL SHE'D RIIIIOOOOOTTTT you bet your ass she'd make everyone but you run the whole field 10 times

always helping you with anything cause "i know you can do it but i dont want you to tire yourself out im gonna do it for you i dont mind" and AAAAALWAYS buying you lunch

knows all your friends, the places you hangout at, your house, your favourite sports, your phone number, EVERYTHING

nowww after y'all start dating.. this girl isn't resting one bit

always attached to your hip 24/7

seeing u abt to talk w a random girl and going like "who was she?what did she want?do you know her?ok but why didn't you tell me about it?" and you're just ":0 i couldn't even say hi to her-" "AND????why do you need to say hi to her??"

she's the strongest believer of you don't need a girl bsf if you got a girlfriend and yk what she's right

always having sleepovers at your place cause she 'wants to protect you'

YK THAT ONE SCENE WHERE JACKIE TELLS SHAUNA "i was trying to save you" THAT BUT WITH GHOSTFACE JACKIE

she'd see misty trying to make a move on you ( she was just asking you when you can come over to her house so she can help with hw, BUT ALSO MAAAAYBE A LIL BIT HITTING ON YOU ) and when night comes you go to misty's house, only to find ghostface standing on top of her with blood dripping from the knife and being splattered all over the mask..

ofc that makes you scared SHITLESS you're like oh my god what the fuck jesus christ 😟 and then jackie pulls off the mask and goes "i was trying to save you, im sorry you had to see me like this>:( but it's okay now you're safe :D" and you were thinking SAFE FROM WHAT?????MISTY QUIGLEY????? but you still ran back to jackie cause HOW COULD YOU NOT💕💕

ANYWAYS UHM... she's just a desperate sad little girlfailure loser that needs love, does it really matter if she killed someone for you? she wants your love!!!!

#laura lee #taissa turner #van palmer #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets smut #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio smut #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio smut #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor smut #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman smut #van palmer x reader #van palmer smut #taissa turner x reader #taissa turner smut #laura lee x reader #laura lee smut #jackieshauna #my works ও˖ ָ࣪ #gen yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews smut #lottie matthews

[hippiepowrs]

he's a goner

eddie munson x gn!best friend!reader

a/n: this is the first fic i'm ever posting on here i'm so nervous plz don't eat me guys

warnings: pining. yearning. longing, if you will. just eddie being totally whipped. swearing. weed use/vague descriptions of being high. d&d terminology. one line from gareth. no use of y/n or reader's pronouns. eddie's pov.

wc: 571

Eddie’s in way too fucking deep.

Maybe this is salvageable?

No, he’s a goner.

It’s not like this is a scene he hasn’t watched before–his best friend laughing, giggling, and smoking with the rest of the older Hellfire boys–hell, it happens every week. But there’s a certain point where the high starts to hit him just right, and he can’t help himself from staring at you. Despite his typical loudness, the usual brash and joking demeanor that overtakes him, he just sits in his chair, quieter than ever. It’s not unheard of for him to get quiet, so nobody thinks anything of it.

You’re the prettiest person to ever exist, he thinks. He finds himself thinking that a lot. The way one corner of your mouth lifts a little more than the other when you smile, the way your eyes crinkle, the way you sparkle as you giggle; he loves it all. He loves the way you look when you blow smoke through your lips. He’s never been more honored to roll in his life. He’d buy all the weed in Indiana if it meant he got to watch you smoke it. 

Eddie often finds himself wanting to write about you or draw you, but he’s nervous he won’t capture you correctly. You’re the kind of beauty that only the Greeks could capture. He wishes he could sculpt like them, just to be able to sculpt you.

A nudge to his arm breaks him out of his trance. He sees you smiling up at him from the floor. It’s a sight he hopes he’ll get to see for the rest of time.

“Ed,” You say, voice soft and a little tired, “Can you back me up here? Can you please tell these nerds that fighter isn’t the best class?” 

“What?” He mumbles, still out of it. “Guys, literally any class is as good as you make it. Except monks.”

“Fuck off.” Gareth responds, throwing a handful of chips in his mouth.

Eddie zones back out after that. Whatever B-horror movie Jeff brought continues to drone on in the background as you and the guys continue to argue, but he can’t be bothered to listen to any of the words he hears. By the time he zones back in, the guys are standing up and brushing themselves off, clearly ready to leave. They say their goodbyes and Eddie waves them off, leaving him alone with you. 

“Is it cool if I sleep over tonight?” Your voice is his favorite thing to hear. Even better than Hetfield or Dio.

“‘Course.” He says, voice more grumbly than he expected. “You know you’re always welcome to.” 

He watches you stand up, watches the way your shirt rides up as you stretch, admires the sleepiness in your eyes. He wants you in his bed, next to him, he wants to wake up to your face in the morning. He wants the smell of your shampoo to overwhelm him. He wants to kiss you, soft and sweet.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbles under his breath, running a hand over his face before standing back up. Your footsteps are already trailing down the hall to his room, and he quickly follows. You’re halfway through throwing one of his shirts on, which you do every time you sleep over. He’ll never get tired of the way his worn-out shirts hang off your body. He’ll never get tired of you. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #first fic #this is so nerve wracking guys please #eddie munson x best friend reader

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Just wanted to let y’all know that I’m about to get real busy for about a week. I’ll do my best to post on the 3rd or 4th, then again on the 7th or 8th. Thanks for understanding! ❤️

Tensions rise the longer El sits, motionless, in front of the staticky TV. Finally, she speaks. “I see her.”

Steve holds up a hand, stopping all conversation. “Is she alive?”

“Yes. Scared. I- I can’t reach her.”

“That’s okay. Is she safe? For now?”

“For now,” El agrees. “But not for long.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. That’s okay. Can you look for Will, or are you too tired right now?”

“I’m tired. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, it’s alright. I know how this ends already, remember? Here, want me to take the blindfold off?”

“Yes, please.”

“Robs? Tissue for her nose?”

Robin sprints off as Steve kneels behind El to untie the blindfold. “You did great,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”

“I looked.”

“Which is more than any of us can do,” he reminds her.

“Quick question,” Eddie says, raising his hand. “What in the hell is going on?”

“She’s got superpowers,” Steve says. “Hey, El, want us to blow up the labs while we’re at it?”

Eleven manages a shaky smile. “That would make things easier.”

“So, yes?”

She chuckles and leans into him. “I don’t know. I’m very tired.”

“Yeah, okay. Let me get you upstairs and into a bed, yeah?” She nods, looping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. He chuckles. “I guess I’m carrying you, then?” He asks, but stands anyways, shifting her so she’s in a more comfortable position. “We can talk more once I come back downstairs,” Steve tells the rest of them, “as long as you can talk quietly.”

Nancy smirks. “That might be a little difficult for this group.”

Steve grins, shakes his head, and brings El upstairs. “My bed? Or there’s a guest bed that no one uses.”

She yawns. “Yours?”

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing open his door and tucking her in. “Y’want the door open or closed?”

“Open, please.”

“Alright. Need anything before I go?”

She shakes her head, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

He winks at her. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite.” She giggles and yawns again, and he chuckles. “Okay, bedtime for real. Night, El.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

As he walks downstairs, he hears the group talking. He rounds the corner and sees Eddie, Nancy, and Robin in one conversation while the boys have a different one. “Okay,” he says, loud enough to get their attention. “First things first, we need food. If anyone has anything against pizza, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He raises a brow when the boys all start speaking over each other, yelling out their topping preferences. “I’ve known you for three years,” he reminds them. “I know what you want on your pizza.”

“Prove it,” Dustin says, spark in his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You just want me to prove even more that I’m from the future,” he says, but points to each of the boys in turn. “Pepperoni, meat lovers, pepperoni.”

Lucas narrows his eyes at Steve. “Lucky guess.”

“Christ, what is it going to take with you? You like basketball because you watch it with your dad. You want to try out for the team but are scared you won’t be good enough. You are, by the way, and I help you with some of that. Your little sister Erica is a brat and a loudmouth but you love her and her weird obsession with government.”

“Don’t forget about El,” Robin adds. “She’ll want pizza when she wakes up.”

“Yeah. Eddie? What do you want on your pizza?”

Eddie smirks. “What, you don’t know?”

“I don’t, actually, because we meet while you’re on the run from something you didn’t do. There’s not much time for small talk, and you deferred to the kids when it came to food.”

Eddie looks at him for a long second before nodding. “I like pepperoni just fine,” he says, and Steve nods.

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual Steddie #y’all this is the slowest of slow burns istg #eleven #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #the party #I’m glad y’all seem to like this bc I’ve got NO idea what I’m doing #starambles

[ot3]

Hi, I just finished the AA trilogy with my bf and we fell in love with it! I found your blog the other day, and it sometimes feels like you're the only one giving correct takes on these characters' writing and the minutiae of everyone's inner worlds (or the fumbling of, see Godot).

I just got here, but, something that's been bothering me about the fandom's approach to the sequel trilogy is like... the imperialist undertones are glossed over, or swept under the rug. Researching "The Dark Age of the Law" and beyond puts a sour taste in my mouth. And with Khura'in the country vs Kurain the village? It all feels racist at best (the concept of the Divination Seance gives me squick). If you have the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts about AA5 and AA6 in relation to the world of AA as a whole. Thanks again for all of your thoughtful and nuanced takes on this series!

so glad to hear you guys liked the games!! thank you for enjoying my posts, i always appreciate it.

the tl;dr of it is that i do think they are genuinely bad enough additions to the franchise that they have signed mainline ace attorney's death warrant. picking out the dark age of the law stuff and aa5 and the imperialism in aa6 you've pretty much honed right in on my two biggest critiques

however i do want to say that although they're being bundled and sold as a 'second trilogy' that's not quite accurate either experientially when playing the games or from a development perspective. aa4 had scenario design/creative direction by series creator shu takumi, with the art director being kazuya nuri (responsible for character design for rise from the ashes in the series previous to this); aa5+6 was spearheaded by takeshi yamazaki, who had been with the franchise since its first game, with the slightly less tenured takuro fuse on art direction/character design. yamazaki and fuse are not without skill, but i think they're both significantly less skilled than takumi and nuri respectively and. it really shows.

pair that with the fact that aa5 and 6 fundamentally do not follow up on any of ace attorney 4's established characters or plots more than superficially, i don't think it's particularly useful to critique 4-5-6 as if they're a single body of work in the same way the trilogy is. apollo justice isn't a perfect* ace attorney game but it's a good one.

anyway i think buying into the 'dark age of the law' stuff in ace attorney 5 necessitates cheapening all of the events preceding it. the implication that 1. the law wasn't that bad before but it Is Now and 2. a single case was the tipping point for whether or not the entire legal system would be bad just ruins the times when ace attorney has managed to acknowledge corrupt systems as a massive source of problem for the everyman in the past

i think this screenshot from the dark age of the law wiki page says a lot:

For starters, that phoenix quote. He would not fucking say that. I don't think there has ever been a point during or leading up to phoenix's career where he thought the legal system had 'glory' he would then want to restore it to. you seem to get it so im not gonna harp on this too much on this but. jesus christ

then, then there's fact that even by stating the most basic details about the franchise's events undermines the whole premise. like okay notice that the corruption that happens during the trilogy/investigations spinoffs is coming from all of the actual agencies that represent law and order/the system: the prosecutors, the police, and the prosecutorial investigation committee. however in aa5 the thing they choose to paint as responsible for supposedly unprecedented levels of corruption in the legal system is defense attorneys resorting to more drastic means, and the general public; aka not the people who are responsible for upholding the legal system but the people who are victimized by it and in opposition to it.

i don't think this was an intentional choice as much as it's just sloppy, inconsiderate, and contrived writing.

aa6 is just flat out racist. 'imperalist undertones' is i would say the gentlest way you could phrase it. like. japanese characters going to a made up south asian country that needs to be taught how to govern itself to quash its internal rebellion is like. so high on the yikes meter.

making a bunch of fake 'ethnic sounding' nonsense names filled with apostrophes to make them into silly sounding english phrasing was a disastrously tone deaf thing for the localization to do. they're really unforgivable. the worst of it all is probably "Inga Karkhuul Haw'kohd Dis'nahm Bi'ahni Lawga Ormo Pohmpus Da'nit Ar'edi Iz Khura'in III" i'm unsure if the names are quite as offensive in the original japanese because i haven't looked too much into what they actually are and have a really limited knowledge of the language. but. this name in japanese is "インガ・カルクール・ククルーラ・ラルバン・ギジール・ホフダラン・マダラ・ヴィラ・ヤシマ・ジャクティエール・クライン３世" which is written in katakana. katakana is, in contrast to kanji and hiragana which are used for writing japanese, used to phoenetically transcribe foreign languages or to write loan words. so the foreign-ness of this character is being emphasized here in the original text as well.

the supposed cultural inferiority of the khurainese people is baked into the game at pretty much every level, down to the gags. khura'in has the 'plumed punisher' show, which is actively criticized by the characters in game for just being a cheap ripoff of the steel samurai. they don't even get to have their own tv.

i believe the reason the racism is pretty much glossed over a lot in the fandom is for several reasons. for starters, ace attorney fans overall tend to fall into three camps: 1. people like me who fucking hate these games, refuse to acknowledge them, and would retcon them out of existence if possible. 2. people who have found things they like about the game and have a Good Version of the characters and plots that they have constructed in their head and 3. people who view all of the hate on these games as completely overblown

the first camp Does talk about how the game is racist but we're all already in agreement about that so it's kind of preaching to the choir and a bit redundant to keep going on about. the second camp tends to acknowledge the stickier aspects of the game but focuses on making content around the elements they like rather than critique. the third camp is the type to throw the baby out with the bathwater re: critiquing a thing they like. it's all haterism to them. but either way i think its kind of fucked up how many people will be like 'aa6 isnt that bad you guys are just mean' without even acknowledging these complaints.

anyway the khura'in country vs kurain village thing is really weird to me it shows both a lack of imagination and a disregard for the series' own established lore. why would a girl from a village where almost everyone is a spirit medium need to go to a place where only, like, two people are mediums to train.

i will say though that the divination seance is kind of one of the only things i found about aa6 to be an interesting addition. for a franchise with ghost summoning and murder solving, the two have a kind of hilariously low amount of overlap so i found the idea of bringing ghost bullshit into court really fun. mechanically speaking, the divination seances also felt a LOT better to play than the mood matrix segments of aa5.

in general, i think the biggest weakness of the mainline franchise under takeshi yamazaki's stewardship is its misunderstanding of stakes. both aa5 and 6 prioritize more bombastic and impressive on paper material stakes. oh no! the ENTIRE JUSTICE SYSTEM BEING GOOD OR BAD depends on this one case! on no! we have to DEAL WITH REBEL INSURGENTS! complete horseshit when there is not competent and functional enough character writing to get us emotionally invested here. yamazaki seems to think bigger is better, and that just simply isnt true for something like ace attorney

i've pointed this out in the past when critiquing aa5 and 6 but if you look at the actual material stakes on the line in ace attorney, they're at their highest after rise from the ashes. ousting the corrupt chief of police is the most impressive and impactful thing phoenix does with his career (arguably until the jurist system, but definitely in the trilogy.) but that's not the big Finale case for his character arc. his finale case is defending his college girlfriend; a nun who lives in the mountains, whose conviction would have had zero implications on the larger fabric of ace attorney's legal system. because takumi's writing clearly shows that he understands what makes a plot impactful is the emotional stakes the characters have invested in the events.

before taking over the main franchise, takeshi yamazaki was responsible for the miles edgeworth investigations spinoffs. i do enjoy both of those games - aai2 in particular is really strong. yamazaki does a great job with edgeworth's character arc even if i have some specific gripes with the duologys writing. i think theyre solid additions to the franchise. but you can see traces of this sort of misalignment in narrative priorities here as well. for example, the last case in aai1 is notorious for still going on for, like, an entire hour or two past the time when the last remaining plot point we care about has been revealed. because yamazaki seemingly had no understanding that That was the thing the case should have been about, and that should have been the final mic drop of the game. it just keeps going! he didn't know the game was done and he added a bunch more bullshit busywork after it that no one likes!

so yeah. without going into anything even as specific as how individual plotlines or character arcs were mishandled in aa5/6 that's really my overview What Went Wrong of those games.

#i genuinely might need to put my opinion on aa5 and 6 in my faq at this point #not because i mind getting a chance to talk about how much i hate these games. but just for due diligence #ace attorney #*there are two perfect ace attorney games: aa1 and plvspwaa #this got so long im so so sorry. #i think ill just hotlink this post in my faq because it hits most of my talking points about these games

[farmerlarrry]

This Time It's Over | Joel Miller One Shot

Inspired by the song: This Time It’s Over by Crybaby

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader | WC: 3.5k

Summary: You and Joel have another argument. When you try to leave, Joel stops you, making up for his faults the only way he can think of. However, is it really over this time?

A/N: If this is bad, just know this is my first attempt at writing smut (and, in general, my first one shot), so please be kind lol. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, just be nice about it!! ♡

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), no use of y/n, toxic relationship (mainly alluding to it, but there is some arguing in the beginning), post-outbreak, age gap (Joel is early 50’s/reader is early to mid 20’s but that’s not really mentioned so…), softdom!Joel, angry!Joel, soft!Joel makes an appearance too, praise kink, pet name (sweetheart), oral sex (male receiving), unprotected PiV sex, (kind of) fingering, light ass slapping, ass touching, encouraged begging, light hair pulling, nipple play/sucking (if I missed anything, I sincerely apologize, just let me know if I need to/should add anything)

“How many times have I asked you to put up the curtains?” You greet Joel with hostility as he enters through the front door. His face immediately goes sour. 

“Well, hello to you too,” His tone is dry. You turn away from the barren windows to face him; he’s setting down an assortment of flowers on the kitchen table, pulling out one of the chairs aggressively and taking a seat. “Got these for you, by the way.”

“Thanks,” You instantly shoot back sarcastically. “But I’d really like it if you would hang the fucking curtains up like I’ve been asking you for the past year and a half, Joel.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” His voice getting louder as he speaks. “I’m out there all fucking day doin’ patrol, ‘n when I get home all you do it bitch and complain about what I’m not doin’. I’ll get around to it.”

“I’ll get around to it,” You mock what he said and narrow your eyes at him, causing him to turn away from you, crossing his arms. “Maybe if you actually followed through with anything you’ve promised me, every fucking thing you said you’d get around to doing, I wouldn’t have to be on your ass all the time.” 

“If you want it done that fuckin’ bad, do it yo–” He snares at you, not finishing his sentence. Not that it matters because you know exactly what he was going to say.

You and Joel have always had a sort of on again, off again relationship. No matter how much the two of you tried, no matter how much you communicated, talked things through; there was always something that left the two of you clawing at each other’s necks. The real issue, though, is you’d always come back together again, things would be sweet and good for a month or two, and then it would all go to shit again, like clockwork. It’s happened time and time again, but there’s something about Joel that no one else could give you in Jackson. And because he keeps coming back to you as well, you assume it’s the same for him. 

Lately, things have become much more intense; the fights are louder, they last longer. You’re sick of it. This time it’s over. Really over.

All you can think to do at the moment is roll your eyes and scoff— loudly. He was right, you could do it yourself, but you were already committed to being annoyed over the fact he didn’t do it when you originally asked. The noise causes Joel to crank his head toward you. You can see the anger building up inside him, his neck becoming splotchy and red; something that only happens when he is seriously pissed off. Throwing down the tea towel you had been using to dry the dishes, you rush past the table, past Joel and head toward the front door. I’m not living like this anymore, you think to yourself, a tightness in your chest is quickly forming. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Joel slaps his hand against the table, sending a chill down your spine as your hand hovers the door knob. There’s a hitch in your breathing, before you slowly turn on your heel and face him. He’s never hit anything before in his fits of rage and him doing it now shocked you.

“I’m done, Joel,” Your voice sounds weak and you’re barely able to get your words out, a burning sensation starts to form in your throat. Joel rises from his chair, there’s a darkness in his eyes. He’s walking toward you slowly, like you’re some sort of prey, and you're unable to move; the only thing you can do is watch him as he gets closer and closer. He has a smirk on his face, not even attempting to hide it.

“You’re done?” He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, as he hovers over you. You cower under his touch, looking up at him with wide, doe-eyes. “You know that’s not true, sweetheart.” 

You pull yourself out of your daze and roll your eyes in annoyance, starting to turn away from him. Joel grabs you by your wrists, pushing your back up against the door. The intense smell of aftershave, cigarettes, and coffee fills your senses, your stomach begins to flutter, a fire burning deep inside of you.

“Let go of me,” You say softly, not convincing anyone that you truly want him to. Your eyes are stuck on his slightly parted lips, his bottom one still healing from the last run in he had with someone at The Tipsy Bison. He begins to grab at your ankle length dress, a smirk still plastered on his face, he begins to walk his fingers up your thigh and hiking up the bottom of the dress as quickly as he can. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath when your panties come into view, running his fingers along the hem where your thigh and womanhood meet. 

“I don’t think so,” He barely gets his words out before crashing his lip into yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth which you gladly welcome. You let out a small moan as Joel presses his growing bulge against your leg, and pulls your panties to the side, running his index finger over your pulsing clit. The sensation causes your hips to roll, pushing into his touch. As he pulls away, you grab onto his lip with your teeth, tugging on it. Joel moans, following up with a small, dark chuckle. Joel, you breathily let out, screwing your eyes shut as he teases your hole with two of his fingers.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that?” Joel grunts, pulling his hand out of your panties, knowing that he won’t be able to push through teasing you. He needs you right now.

Before you know it, he’s pulling you by your wrist over to the kitchen table— the one the two of you were arguing at only moments prior. But right now, none of that matters. The only thing that matters is what you want from Joel, and what he wants from you. He flattens his hand against the middle of your back, pushing you down and bending you over the table. Your chest slams against the surface, you let out a small, devilish giggle. ‘M sorry, Joel mutters, you can hear him struggling with his belt buckle, and then it hitting the wood flooring. Your pussy throbs at the thought of Joel fucking you. Without thinking, you grab the edges of the table, wrapping your fingers around the sides until your knuckles go white.

As he comes up behind you, you can feel the warmth of his presence on the back of your thighs, causing the hair to stand up on the back of your neck. You arch your back towards him, begging him to fill you up, to ease the aching feeling between your legs. Your breathing becomes shallow and an intense feeling of irritation comes over you. 

Joel suddenly runs his hand down your back, causing goosebumps to appear across your arms and legs, before lightly slapping your ass. Mhmm, he softly hums. As he comes closer, you can feel his manhood wiggling itself in the slit between your legs. As the tip brushes against your clit, you become impatient, cranking your neck back toward Joel. You can’t see his face, but you know he’s enjoying seeing you like this. 

“Joel—“ You practically cry out.

“Tell me sweetheart, tell me how bad you want me,” His voice is dark, but smooth. 

“So— so fucking bad, please,” You whimper, laying the side of your head down at the table, preparing yourself for when Joel decides to enter your dripping hole.

“You look so fucking good from this angle,” He moans quietly, more for himself than for you to hear.

He reaches between him and you with his hand, and you can feel him slowly drag his cock between your lips, positioning his tip ever so slightly at the entrance of your hole. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to scoot yourself back toward him. 

“Please,” You practically shout out to him, and he returns a seductive laugh before slowly pushing himself deeper, and deeper inside you. You let out a loud moan as you feel your tight hole stretch around him; both pain and pleasure fills you, the feeling spreading down to your legs.

“Tell me how good I feel inside of you,” Joel grunts, gripping onto your hips, pressing his fingers into the dips of your hips, and slamming them back toward him. Your eyes roll back at the force, and you can feel your legs begin to go numb. When you don’t respond fast enough for him, he pushes himself into you more aggressively. “I said, tell me—“

You cut him off before he can complete his sentence. 

“So…fucking…good,” You pause, saying each would on each thrust. The table is moving underneath you, scraping against the flooring. Joel draws himself slowly out of you before thrusting back in, you can feel something warm begin to run down your legs. 

“Shit,” Joel says in a serious tone, pulling out of you without any warning. A feeling of emptiness overcomes you and you begin to whimper, cranking your neck back to him. You lock eyes with him, giving him pleading eyes, he glances back and forth between you and the window.

“Wha— what are you doing?” You can feel yourself dripping, pulsing at your undying desire for him to be back inside of you.

“Head on upstairs,” Joel says, grabbing his jeans off the floor and covering his lower half. You look over to the window, the family who lives next door is approaching from the side street. There’s no way they won’t see the two of you once they get closer. 

“I should’ve put those curtains up.” Joel sounds slightly embarrassed admitting that. You turn back to him about halfway up the steps, I told you so, you think to yourself, giving him a telling look. He just shakes his head, slapping your ass to get you moving. “C’mon, we got some business to finish.”

As soon as the two of you are in the main bedroom, Joel is already all over you again. The sun is now setting, casting a dim, warm glow over the bedroom. As he begins to tug at the straps of your dress, you start to thumb at the hem of his worn, faded blue t-shirt. The one you told him to throw out. Your subtle frustration at the realization he failed to listen to you again turns to lust and firmly plant your hands on his chest, forcibly pushing him back on the bed. Your aggressiveness comes to him as a surprise, turning him on even more at the same time. He’s now watching you with begging eyes as you slip the other strap over your arm, your dress falling into a messy pile on the floor. Joel runs his eyes all over you, his throat bobbing when the two of you lock eyes. You walk over to him slowly, positioning yourself between his legs. Joel runs his hands across your lower back, rubbing your ass and squeezing occasionally. 

You drop to your knees, still keeping intense eye contact with Joel. His eyes are wide and his breathing is slow. Sweat is beginning to form on his forehead and is clinging onto his chest hairs. You grab your hair with one of your hands, moving it to one side and then drop your eyes to his cock, the tip is swollen, begging to be touched. As you begin to rub your thumb over the dripping head, Joel lets out a guttural moan. A moan that clearly conveys finally. The sounds he’s making turns you on ever more than before, you can feel your breasts begin to swell. 

“Look at me,” You whisper to Joel who has his head tilted back, looking towards the ceiling. You bring your free hand up to the back of his head, lightly wrapping your fingers around his hair and pulling it upright. He hazily looks at you, his tongue poking out from between his swollen lips. “Watch me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes as you take just the head of his cock between your lips, sucking on it ever so slightly. You watch as his eyelids flutter, and his eyes roll back; you watch as he struggles to keep his eyes open to watch you. The warmth of his precum caresses your cold tongues as you begin to swirl it, feeling the liquid steadily come from the slit of his cock. 

“Do– fuck– take i–in more,” Joel begins to plead, bring one of his hands up to the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, encouraging you to take in more of him by pushing the back of your head into him. You immediately obliged, slowly and messily bobbing your head, taking in more of him each time. When you can feel the tip reach the farthest point your body will allow it to go, you take your hand, pumping and twisting the remainder of his girth. “That’s i–it sweetheart, you know h– oh my fucking God– you know how to make me fe–el good. Keep going, you–re doing s–so good.”

He’s guiding your head, pushing and pulling at his desired pace. His cock is covered in your saliva, pooling around the base. When the muscles in his thighs begin to tense up, he pulls you off of him, more aggressively than intended. You fall back on your hands on the floor, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Don’t think I’m not gonna pleasure you, do ya?” He says begin his heavy breaths, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Get up here.” 

Joel stands up, slightly pumping his cock and points at the bed. You oblige, bringing yourself up to your feet and centering yourself on the bed. Joel joins you without hesitation, positioning himself between your legs and hovering over you. He starts to nip at your neck, following down to collarbones, before taking one of your hard nipples into his mouth, gently sucking and biting at it. A wave of pleasure shoots through your limbs, causing you to let out a moan. Joel snickers.

“You like that, huh?” His tone is dark. As he nips at it again, you can feel his cock hit against your clit, sending a whole new sensation through your body. He swirls his tongue around the bud, moving on down your stomach, planting small kisses along the way.

Getting impatient, once again, you reach between the two of you grabbing his cock and scooting your body down. Joel begins to thrust in your hand, his eyes rolling back. He lets small, soft moans escape past his lips, to which you respond with whimpers. You want him so damn bad. 

“Just– fuck me Joel,” You are finally able to get the words out. Joel nods in response, obviously over teasing you, and he spreads your legs wider. 

As soon as you feel the tip connect with your hole, you buckle your hips and wrap your legs around his torso. In harmony, Joel thrusts deep inside of you, the two of you let out a loud moan. The bed creaks as he draws in and out, you can feel the sheets starting to become damp with sweat and other bodily fluids. 

“Tell me you're done,” Joel suddenly says in a clear voice. “You’re done with me, with u–us.”

His request throws you off. His breathing becomes heavier as he starts to thrust faster and harder into you, your mind goes blank, the only thing you can focus on is how sexy Joel looks hovering over you and how fucking good it feels to be fucked by him. You don’t think anyone else would be able to make you feel this good.

“I– I’m– duh–” You try to get the words out but the building chaos in your stomach becomes overwhelming and nearly debilitating. You can feel your legs start to tense up, your toes becoming numb.

“You… can’t… even…say…it…,” Joel drags out between his heavy breaths. Sweat is running down his cheeks and chest, dropping in splotches on your stomach. 

“Joel, I– I can’t– I’m about to–” You screw your eyes shut as you twitch under Joel’s weight, for a moment all you can see are bright splotches of colors; the tension in your stomach coming to an explosive end. Joel slows his thrusting, but continues, riding you out of your orgasm. You have your hands grasped around his forearms, squeezing as tight as you can.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” He says in a soothing tone. You can feel yourself pulsing around him. “You’re so fucking good.” 

On his last thrust, he doesnt pull out right away, his breathing hitches and he lets out a moan of relief. You can feel his girth twitch inside of you, and your pussy responds with a few more pulses. As he pulls out, the warmth of him remains, running down your slit and pooling on the bed. Joel drops down next to you, half limp with his arm strewn across your chest.

–

“Where are you going?” Joel props himself up on the bed with one elbow, sweat glistening off his chest and forehead as the moonlight shines in through the open window.

“Home,” You respond, almost confused. Where else would you be going?

You see his face drop in return, slightly pouting his bottom lip. For a moment, you wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, you go back to wrangling with your mess of a dress; nearly falling over in the dark room when your foot doesn’t slide through the top opening with ease. 

In the corner of your eye, you see Joel slowly pull himself out of bed, slipping on his gray boxers without any struggle. The floorboards creak quietly as he makes his way across the room toward you. You let out a deep sigh, a sense of relief lingers as you exhale. As you pull the last strap over your shoulder and adjust the bust, Joel loosely wraps his still damp arms around you and you crumble under his touch. You can hear his heartbeat as you nuzzle your head against his chest. Strong and deep. You close your eyes. This is the last time, you think.

“It’s cold out,” His voice is quiet and hoarse. He has his arms fully wrapped around you, not letting you escape, even if you tried— even if you wanted to. A somber smile appears on your face and you tilt your head back to look up at him. He doesn’t return your gaze, staring out the window as the two of you begin to sway from side to side. “Just stay for the night.”

His voice is even smaller than it was before, the sound coming out like a breeze. Joel runs his hands smoothly along the sides of your arms, barely brushing past your hips, before letting his arms fall at his side. He deeply inhales, locking his intense eyes on you, anticipating for you to say something— anything— at this point. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating your choices and their potential consequences. If I don’t leave now, it will just be a never ending cycle, you think, your breathing becoming slow and deep. As you’re thinking, Joel brings his hand up to the back of your neck, running his fingers along your hairline, then tracing your jawline with the tips. 

Even though you know what you should do— the right thing to do— Joel is your weakness. And you are his. That’s why breaking up has never worked in the past. The community is too small, and your relationship is too intense.

“Sweetheart,” His tone has a hint of anxiousness to it.

You give him a slight nod, a bit of hesitation behind the gesture. He grabs your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckles, pulling you back toward the messy bed. You crawl from his designation side over to yours, laying on your side to face him. With your hand tucked under your head, cupping your ear, you watch him take a smooth draw at his whiskey, the muscles in his chest twitch as he moves his arm.

He slips into the bed, pulling the blanket over the two of you, and scooting closer to you. Your eyelashes are fluttering at him, your heart full; the infatuation that comes after an intense break up, you think, self-aware of what you’re feeling. A small part of you feels guilty. Joel is looking at you with hungry eyes, although a softness exudes from them. He leans in, planting a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. 

“This time it’s over,” He says as he pulls away, brushing a few pieces of stray hair out of your face. You smile at him, following up with a bittersweet nod.

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