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mrwavellswaps · 2 months

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Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

#male body theft #male body swap #magic #curse #gay to straight #identity theft #jock #male hypno #permanent #male possession #muscle theft #male muscle growth

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justabigassnerd · 4 months

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Summer of Love pt. 1

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 2,367

Warnings - none

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - here it is y'all! the very first part of 'Summer of Love' I am so excited to be posting this I'm honestly so impressed with myself for writing it as quick as I did and I hope this lives up to expectations. I will say I am open to suggestions on things people may like to see within the series so if you have ideas do feel free to suggest them in my inbox :). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

After hours upon hours of driving, you finally pulled into the summer camp that was to be your home and workplace for the next couple of months. You parked your car and stepped out of the driver’s seat raising your arms and stretching, sighing as you take in the sights of the camp, amazed at all the beauty that surrounded you.

After stretching and bringing some relief to your tense body, you head in the direction of the buildings you saw, trying to locate the office and soon figuring it out by process of elimination. You approach the building, seeing someone standing just outside who is watching the various soon-to-be counsellors walking around and interacting with each other and they soon notice you approaching them.

“Hello! I’m Kerry!” The woman greets you enthusiastically and you immediately recognise her to be the Camp Director.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say, holding your hand out to shake hers before she consults her clipboard, eyes scanning the list for your name.

“Ah, there you are. You’ll be in cabin six. We put the counsellors in cabins together for orientation so you guys can get to know each other and near the end of orientation, we give you guys your cabins for the summer.” Kerry explains, gesturing for you to follow her as she leads you towards some wooden carts you could use to put your belongings in to carry them to the cabin easier and she waits patiently for you to unload your stuff into the cart before having you follow her to the cabin you’d be staying in for the duration of orientation. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need to be. It sat just along the lake as all the cabins did.

When you enter the cabin, it is empty but there is evidence of other people. Neatly made beds, people’s stuff upon bedside tables and shelves.

“Thank you, Kerry.” You thanked her as you explored the cabin. Kerry bids you goodbye and tells you when meal times are and lets you know that you’re free to explore the camp and get your bearings before leaving you to your own devices. You picked an empty bed and began moving your stuff from the cart outside to the cabin and began unpacking slightly, making your bed and tucking your suitcase under the bed to clear space. You hadn’t packed too much, just following the very basics of the packing list you were sent so thankfully your bag wasn’t too big or heavy.

When you finished unpacking and tidying your stuff away, you decided to leave the cabin and explore the camp a little. Instead of backtracking the way you came when Kerry showed you to your cabin, you went the opposite direction, following the row of cabins until you reached a spot overlooking the lake and you took a moment to take in the sights. The camp was surrounded by woodland as well as the lake and the trees extended all along the lakeside, but you could see small wooden buildings directly opposite you on the lake which was a clear indicator that this camp wasn’t the only camp on the lake. After appreciating the beauty before you, you continue to walk the line of cabins, unsurprised to see that they’re mostly the same size with a small handful being a little smaller for fewer kids. You pass various other members of staff who offer you a smile and a wave which you return. You then soon end up back at the main area of the camp where the dining hall and office are located.

“Hey, I saw you standing here so I figured I’d come over and say hi. I’m Ella.” A woman approaches you with a smile. She looked to be a little younger than you but regardless you smiled and introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ella. I’m y/n. I’m just getting my bearings. It’s pretty spacious.” You reply, watching as she nods before glancing around the space around you.

“It takes a bit of getting used to. This is my second summer here so I’m more than happy to show you around if you’d like.” Ella offers, looking back at you with a friendly smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble I’d love it if you could show me around.” You say gratefully, following Ella as she gestures for you to follow her. She first leads you to the dining hall, taking you to the top of the stairs and showing you the large room filled with tables.

“This is the dining hall. It will be much more chill with just staff because when the kids arrive it can get noisy, not to mention all the songs at dinner.” Ella explains with a laugh, thinking back to her last year at camp.

“Got it. Make sure I prepare for all the songs.” You reply, chuckling slightly at the image of the dining hall filled with kids singing. You then follow Ella back down the stairs and stick by her side as she gives you a full tour of the camp, even explaining how certain things work around camp as well as giving little anecdotes of her own past experiences. You even find out that she’s staying in the same cabin as you during orientation which makes you relax upon the thought that you now know at least one person in the cabin. When Ella concludes the unofficial tour, you notice a group of male counsellors emerging from the staff lounge all talking over each other as they head towards the dining room just as you hear Ella mentioning that it is almost dinner time. You and Ella make your way to the dining room and join the queue for food, standing behind one of the men who had walked past you just moments prior and he soon turned around to face you and you never could’ve prepared yourself for how attractive this man was.

He was tall, had sandy blond hair and had brown eyes that looked perfect when the sun hit them. He was muscular and sporting a moustache which you thought suited him. When he locked eyes with you, he smiled softly and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, you must’ve just arrived today. I’m Bradley.” He introduced himself, his smile never fading nor his eyes leaving yours even as he reached for a paper plate to serve up his meal.

“Yeah, I’ve not been here very long. I’m y/n.” You reply with a smile, grabbing a plate of your own and dishing yourself up some food.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” You couldn’t lie at that moment. Bradley saying your name felt so right. Your name rolled off his tongue effortlessly and you tried to fight back your emotions because you did not want to be catching feelings this early on, if at all. You soon both reached the end of the food line and headed over to a free table. Some of the guys Bradley was with and Ella sat at your table as well and the eight of you spent the meal getting to know each other a little more.

“So, y/n, what kind of activities are you going to be running at camp?” One of the guys named Cameron asks after taking a sip of his water.

“Just general field sports, mostly hockey, but I am signed up to lead the occasional hikes the kids can do. What about you guys?” You say, listening intently to all the replies you receive. Most of the guys were going to be lifeguards, Ella was teaching sewing and crafts and Bradley had just remained silent.

“What about you, Bradley?” Ella asks with a smile, curious about his job within the camp.

“Same as y/n actually. Except I’ll be mostly teaching soccer. But I am doing the hiking thing as well.” Bradley admits with a sheepish smile, a tone and demeanour you didn’t expect from him.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re starting to get to know each other already then.” You reply with a smile looking over at Bradley as he relaxes a little, smiling back at you.

The rest of the meal flies by and you soon exit the hall with Bradley, Ella, and the others and you all decide to throw around a tennis ball one of the guys who would be teaching tennis had. You tossed the ball between each other, chatting and attempting to distract each other as you all laughed. Soon enough, the sun began to set and many people began to retreat into the staff lounge to spend the rest of the evening with the rest of the staff and to watch a movie together. However, you chose to remain outside, sat on the porch, gently rocking on one of the rocking chairs that sat on the porch and watched the beautiful golden glow illuminate the camp as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Didn’t want to come in?” You turn around to see Bradley poking his head out of the door, having noticed your lack of presence in the staff lounge.

“I don’t really get to see sunsets like this. I wanted to appreciate each one while I get the chance.” You admit as Bradley crosses the porch, easing himself down into the other chair and focusing his attention back on you.

“You should see the sunsets where I live.” Bradley mumbles softly, thinking of the sunsets he had grown accustomed to back in Miramar.

“I take it they’re pretty.” You say in response, your eyes still fixed on the horizon and the fading of the sun.

“They’re gorgeous” Bradley says, watching the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile before you turn to look at him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

“I must admit I’m very jealous that you get sunsets as pretty as this. You never really got to see the sunsets where I used to live. I can only hope when I move and start my new job I’ll have some places to watch the sunset.” You say, trying your best not to let your sadness and anxieties sneak into your voice. You had lived in the same place almost your whole life and recently realised you weren’t doing what you wanted to be doing so uprooting what you knew and moving someplace entirely new was scary. Not to mention working in a summer camp in the middle of it all.

“What’s your new job? If you don’t mind me asking.” Bradley enquires, eyes watching you with nothing but curiosity.

“Teaching. I always wanted to be a teacher and I finally got the chance, even if it does mean I’ve got to handle a big move. What about you? What do you do?” You admit with a chuckle before asking Bradley what he does for a living.

“I’m a naval aviator. I got a good chunk of time off so figured I’d do something worthwhile with my time.” Bradley says, trying not to sound boastful about his job but still wanting to display his pride in his career. He knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth about why he was granted so much time off but he couldn’t do that to you. You seemed so sweet and he didn’t want to dump any of his trauma on you. Before another word could be spoken, you hear the door swing open once more and this time Ella appears.

“Hey, I was going to head back to the cabin to get ready for bed. Wanna come with?” She asks as you nod, standing up and just then realising how tired you were from travelling.

“I could do with an early night. I’ll see you around Bradley.” You say, at first to Ella before directing your goodbye to Bradley, sending him a soft wave and smile as you follow Ella and Bradley watches as you disappear into the darkness that now covers the camp and soon Cameron and the rest of Bradley’s cabin mates emerge from the staff lounge.

“You’ve been out here then?” John asks, having wondered where Bradley was.

“I bet he was out here with y/n. He’s been smitten since he first saw her.” Freddy then says as Bradley rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat, heading back towards his cabin with his cabin mates on his tail.

“Yes, I was out here with y/n. No, I am not smitten.” Bradley says as the boys catch up to him. He was lying of course. Bradley hadn’t been one to believe in love at first sight no matter how much his mother had told him about it growing up. But now he was starting to believe that she might be right.

Meanwhile, you had gotten ready for bed and had clambered into your bed, listening to the sounds of nature just outside your window as Ella got in the bed opposite yours.

“So, how did you enjoy your first day?” Ella asks as the two of you lay back on your beds, staring up at the ceiling.

“It was great. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” You say with a smile despite knowing Ella couldn’t see it.

“It’s good you get on so well with Bradley already. It really helps to get along with the people you are going to spend the most time with.” Ella then says, making you raise an eyebrow at her intentions.

“He’s easy to get along with. He’s a nice guy.” You reply, glancing in the direction of Ella’s bed.

“I bet your crush on him is helping too.” Ella says and you let out a laugh and roll your eyes.

“And on that note, goodnight, Ella.” You say lightly, rolling over and facing the wall as Ella jokingly groans and laughs at your reaction before quieting down and whispering a goodnight of her own. You watch the wall silently, thinking over Ella’s words for a few moments before letting your tired eyes finally drift close.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #summer of love #summer of love universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw

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starsandhughes · 7 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Quinn's Birthday Edition

23-24 Season Masterlist

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, and 13,437 others

yourusername “sharing the same family tree doesn’t often make people stay. find family in the ones who make you laugh uncontrollably. find family in the ones who take your side but also talk you through your wrongdoings. find family in the ones who would hop on a plane & fly across countries the moment you needed them. find family in the ones who rejoice in you, especially when you’re unsure of yourself. find the ones who will face the fire with you.” (amanda lovelace)

sorry for the extra long poem, but the “hop on a plane” line was way too spot on for me to not use it.

quinn, you have not just been my best friend for fourteen years, but you’ve been my big brother for over eighteen years. you saved me from my darkest hours, and taught me how to save myself. you were the first person i ever gave a present to, and i remember freaking out to mom when she had to explain to me what birthday parties were and that people got presents for them. i picked out that captain america action figure all by myself and i still remember how happy you were. i think my love language is gift giving because of you.

i feel like i’ve been playing a game of “go fish” my whole life. i didn’t have any of the same card when i was younger. life kept telling me to “go fish,” and i kept pulling a card that didn’t help. and then i met jack, and suddenly i had a pair of kings. i quickly found luke to be the most precious thing on the planet, and he always made me smile. he was my third king.

you quickly started to treat me like your own sister. you walked me to class, and you always brought me a snack on days i didn’t have breakfast with all of you. you were the first person to ever hug me when i was crying. i didn’t have that at my house. at just five years old, i didn’t know that i could be comforted, and you showed me that i could be. that i deserved to be. you were my fourth king. you completed my first book. you were the start of me winning the game.

and now you’re 24, and i’ve got many more piles of books in my go fish game, and most of them are because of you. i am who i am because of many people, but you, quintin jerome, helped me start to find myself.

i love you more than every word in every language! happy birthday, best friend💙 and good luck tonight!

tagged _quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes it’s been amazing growing up together, sissy💙 thank you, and i love you, too!

yourusername i’m totally not crying <3

_quinnhughes but i love you despite your tendency to cry! it’s endearing

yourusername i’m totally crying <3

_quinnhughes yep, there’s my girl

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes you’re putting me through a lot right now

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras happy birthday to me!

user3 happy quinn day!

jackhughes @_quinnhughes *in schmidt’s voice* 24! happy birthday, huggy bear!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes thank you, i can feel the sentiment from edmonton

jackhughes @_quinnhughes that’s brotherly love, baby!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes i love you, too?

yourusername @_quinnhughes i do believe that’s what the fool was trying to say

jackhughes @_quinnhughes nailed it! i do love you! @.yourusername *insert curse word here*

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/yourusername you know the rules! you two are nice to each other on my birthday! i don’t care that you’re across the country!

jackhughes @/yourusername ily soulmate

yourusername @/jackhughes ilym soulmate

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/yourusername great job! now no betting today because it’s my birthday and i make the rules! and sissy, best friend contract!

yourusername i-

jackhughes @_quinnhughes meanie

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/yourusername we’ll call it a birthday present

yourusername mmf

jackhughes mmf

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @/yourusername @_quinnhughes i feel left out so i also love you guys!

yourusername @/lhughes_06 awww i love you, lukey moosey! 🫶

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 i love you, too!

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 you sap, i love you, too, lukey!

user34 i’m crying so hard right now omg😭 happy birthday, captain!

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes HAPPY BIRTHDAY, QUINNER! thank you for letting me love your sister and best friend! love you, man! enjoy 24

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras thank you! and love you, too, z! thank you for treating sissy well all these years

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes i wouldn’t dare treat her any other way. you raised a great girl

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i tried my best

yourusername @/trevorzegras @_quinnhughes i’m gonna vomit cry i’m so obsessed with you two being nice

trevorzegras @/yourusername we’re always nice!

_quinnhughes @/yourusername please don’t vomit cry or i’ll have to get meaner

trevorzegras oh

user7 AHH HE’S GROWING UP SO FAST! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, QUINNY!

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes happy birthday! you’re my favorite sibling of the day! i love you, quinny! maybe you’ll grow this year!

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 thank you, i love you, too! (i do not love the jab at my height)

lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes (i’m just doing my brotherly duties)

yourusername @/lhughes_06 (you took all the tall genes!)

lhughes_06 @/yourusername (i was born last?)

yourusername @/lhughes_06 (mom was saving them for you)

_quinnhughes @/yourusername this part of your personality was not my doing

yourusername @_quinnhughes me being funny? that was all me, bubba. you’re welcome🥰

_quinnhughes @/yourusername yeah, okay, let’s go with that as my intention

user66 crying in the club? nah. sobbing in the club.

user23 huggy bear is growing up too fast😭

_eliaspettersson @_quinnhughes happy birthday, cap! 🎉🎈🎁

_quinnhughes @_eliaspettersson thank you, petey!

yourusername @_quinnhughes wait i just realized the first present i ever got you was captain america and now you’re captain canada 😭

_quinnhughes @/yourusername i love you so much, but please don’t call me captain canada

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes too late

jackhughes LONG LIVE CAPTAIN CANADA

_quinnhughes i prefer captain meme over this…

jackhughes LONG LIVE THAT TOO

user5 *plays the scene in borhap where freddie sings happy birthday to himself*

user88 oh to be a fly on the wall when the canucks embarrass quinn with a terrible rendition of happy birthday

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLET BROTHER! love you, man! good luck tonight!

_quinnhughes @_alexturcotte i love you, too, turc! thank you

yourusername @_alexturcotte quinn didn’t live with us when you lived with us… but okay

_alexturcotte @/yourusername he did in my heart

_quinnhughes @/yourusername shhhh it’s okay

user65 are we not going to address that quinn’s birthday party was the first one sissy experienced????

colemcward @_quinnhughes happy birthday, dad!🎉

_quinnhughes thank you, son!

yourusername @/colemcward I MISS YOU! SWEARZIES I’LL COME SEE YOU PLAY THIS SEASON!

colemcward @/yourusername I MISS YOU, TOO! YOU BETTER!

_quinnhughes @/colemcward swearzies is sissy for “i’ll move mountains and sneak onto cargo planes if i have to just to see you play”

colemcward @_quinnhughes is that exact definition? is there a mom dictionary?

_quinnhughes @/colemcward there’s mo dictionary

trevorzegras @/colemcward you learn as you go

colemcward @_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras she’s never actually snuck onto a cargo plane, right?

_quinnhughes @/colemcward not that we know of

user40 AHHH HAPPY QUINTIN DAY!!

user70 THAT SECOND PIC! long live the yankees hat!! happy birthday!

colecaufield @_quinnhughes you’re getting old! congratulations! happy birthday, man, i hope you crush it tonight

_quinnhughes @/colecaufield thank you…?

yourusername @_quinnhughes i’ll fix him, hold on

colecaufield @_quinnhughes happy birthday, quinner! love you! destroy those robot oilers again!

yourusername close enough

_quinnhughes @/colecaufield love you, too😂

_eliaspettersson added this to their story

_quinnhughes added this to their story

jackhughes added this to their story

lhughes_06 added this to their story

_alexturcotte added this to their story

#penalty box series: quinn hughes edition #penalty box series #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes insta edit #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #cole mcward #vancouver canucks #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader

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moviestarmartini · 3 months

Note

Since you are open to writing about Brahim 🤭imagine Jude being a third wheel and always hanging out with you and Brahim, like the guy is never at his house 😭😭

three, that's the magic number! - brahim diaz x reader x platonic!jude bellingham

warnings: none, pure fluff. headcanon/bulleted format.

OKAY HE WOULD LOWKEY BE LIKE “i want what these bitches have” BUT LET ME NOT GET AHEAD OF MYSELF HERE

now playing... the magic number by de la soul

you’d heard of Jude but came to meet him in a dinner Brahim had organized with him and Arda.

you’d noticed the way Jude stared in awe at the two of you whenever you interacted, even if it was just Brahim taking short glances, his face softer than ever.

it started off with Brahim asking if you could pick up Jude on the way to training, not wanting the younger man to take a taxi there again

the way the three of you could start a conversation and flow felt nice, singing along to some songs that Brahim had queued.

Jude often asked what the songs said, or what a word either of you said meant. you found endearing how he was really trying with spanish

Jude then started getting dropped off at your shared place to be driven to training by you two— getting all pouty when Brahim was the one driving, not you.

“Is this what abandonment feels like?” He would joke, but still wished you the best on your way out to work.

then it was the fact Brahim took it upon himself to teach the englishman the do’s-and-don’ts of Madrid.

you took Jude everywhere, all your favorite spots, doing your best to avoid large crowds to not draw attention to yourselves.

“You’re in luck, she’s the best tour guide ever.” Brahim bragged about you to Jude, as he did to anyone who would listen.

he was just so so proud of every you know and done, he can’t help himself.

you knew a lot about the historic places you saw even when just passing by car, telling Jude every detail and fun fact you had in store in that brain of yours.

he listened attentively, also noticing the way Brahim would look at you with the tiniest smile behind his lips.

“See? I’ve got myself the smartest cookie. Eres la más inteligente de todo España, mi habibati.” Brahim would coo after you were done explaining, reaching to cup your face and stroke your cheekbone with his thumb as you nodded slowly, cheeks flushed.

soon, however, candid pictures of you hanging out were released to the public.

the reactions varied from people adoring the pair you and Brahim made and how tall Jude was compared to the two of you but always followed behind as if he was your child.

by that point he’d already taken your flat as his favorite hang out spot, more often than not you found Jude playing FIFA or board games with Brahim after coming home from work.

“Get a room.” Jude would complain at your cuddling and kissing, Brahim brushing the spiky facial hair against the length of your neck only to hear the giggles that made his chest swell

“Jude, you’re the one who’s in our room.” you deadpanned with a yawn, the two men bursting down in laughter.

but at the end of the day, he felt like another member of your family— just like abi Arda did, but that’s a story for another day.

and you were so glad Brahim could reintegrate back into the team flawlessly.

at one of the games you sat in the VIP balcony at the bernabeú with a good chunk of the players— all out on injuries, including Jude, who went straight to you as he noticed you walk in.

you two commented on the game as if that was your actual job, feeling every second and emotion.

you also noticed how Jude looked at you every time you celebrated Brahim doing things right— it could only be described as admiration.

Jude had to leave when the game was itching its end, having to stand with the other injured players, leaving you with Denise.

you introduced yourself quickly, and you noticed how she perked up.

“Lovely to meet you, but can you give me my son back? Or do I need to pull out some adoption papers for you two?” she laughed, soon telling you how much he talked about both you and Brahim, and the relationship you shared.

you couldn't help but laugh, "Really? I think I have a pen in my purse, hold on–" you joked, but feeling proud... why? because everyone could clearly see how much you loved Brahim.

and they could also see, clear as day, how much he loved you too.

#ik i need people to see our gospel and notice how PRETTY brahim is #brahim diaz #brahim diaz x reader #ALSO YES OPENING THAT TAG BECAUSE I MIGHT USE IT IN THE FUTURE #also this could definitely take a smutty route but we'll see later on 👀#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 8

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 5,000 Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort and feels, alcoholism lol

Part 8: Long Distance

Sam stayed back at Bobby’s while Dean accompanied you back home, now that it was no longer a crime scene. When your dad finally got off of work, he greeted you in the living room with relief in his eyes and a warm hug.

That warmth diminished when he noticed Dean standing behind you.

“Dean’s a friend of Bobby’s,” you explained. Dean introduced himself and shook Jack’s hand.

“Yeah, wanted to make sure she got here okay,” Dean added.

Jack scrutinized him as they shook hands. Maybe he suspected that you and Dean weren’t telling the whole truth, but Jack seemed to accept things.

For now.

“I think we’ve got frozen pizzas for dinner if we don’t want to order out,” you said. You went over to the kitchen to check, but without you realizing, that brought you right to the spot where you were assaulted just two days ago.

The blood had been scrubbed off the tile floor. There were still small, suspect stains in the grout, though. You looked up and saw your reflection in the microwave. It wasn’t unlike that night, when you had looked up and seen your bloody face, then looked down and seen Danny Schmitt lying dead on the floor.

You flinched when a hand came to rest on your shoulder. It was Dean, and you gave him a small grateful look. You briefly covered his hand with yours, but you took a breath and forced yourself to move past the spot, and continue toward the fridge.

Jack watched the small moment between you and Dean. Dean knew that Jack had caught it, while you remained oblivious as you puttered around in the kitchen.

The three of you made somewhat painful small talk while waiting for the pizzas to cook. When it was done, Dean helped set the table and you cut out the slices. Jack took an opportunity to grab a beer and approach you.

“So why’s Skater Boy still in my house?” Jack asked. You could only assume he meant Dean.

“Dad, please don’t be rude,” you warned.

“You seein’ him or something?”

You set down the pizza cutter and gave Jack a pointed look. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Dean could hear you and Jack talking from the dining room. He took issue with your dad’s phrasing. It was a little more than “seeing,” but at least now he understood what you’d been talking about with your dad. The guy was a hard-ass.

So Dean would go along with however you wanted to play this. It was only fair.

The problem was, this mostly left you to keep the conversation going once the three of you sat down to eat. For forty-five minutes you did your best to fill the silences, but Jack was a man of sparing words.

“So yeah, I should be able to finish my thesis in time. I’m looking to have a job lined up after I graduate next semester, but the only thing I’ve really been seeing is teaching positions,” you explained.

“Teaching’s acceptable,” your dad said, after finishing his second beer. “And doable, for you.”

You glanced at your dad with a telling press of your lips.

Dean understood your annoyance. Doable for you?

What was that supposed to mean?

“Well, I’m not sure I want to teach,” you said. “I’m thinking of applying to the natural history museum here in Sioux Falls.”

“And do what, dust off wax mannequins?” Jack remarked.

You set down your glass of water a bit too hard. “If you’re going to say something, say it.”

Jack gave you a look of exasperation. “I’m just sayin’. You went to college without a real plan, now it’s bitin’ you in the ass. And it ain’t been cheap—”

“For you it has, because I put myself through college,” you countered.

“What I’m saying is, now you’ve limited yourself—”

Jack actually reminded Dean of his dad in a lot of ways. But he had a feeling this man didn’t know his daughter very well. Dean wasn’t normally one to meddle in things that weren’t his business, but you were stressed out enough. He didn’t like the way your shoulders were tightening. He could feel your upset through the soul bond, and your eyes were dangerously close to frustrated tears.

He touched your knee beneath the table and looked over at Jack.

“Look, maybe we could just take things down a couple notches here,” Dean suggested.

Jack turned to him with an angry frown. “Now would be a very good time for you to butt out. Dean, was it? Matter of fact, why don’t you get the hell out of my house—”

“Okay, that’s enough!” you shouted. You clenched one fist on the dining table, the other on your knee beneath the table.

Both men looked at you with mixed reactions of surprise.

You turned to your dad. “The difference between you and me is I pursued what I was interested in. You went after what you were good at.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jack asked, after his shock wore off.

“Nothing,” you said. “But neither is what I did. I’m proud of where I am so far, what I’ve accomplished. I’m sorry if you don’t think that’s worth much, but I do. You don’t have to agree with my choices, but you can at least respect me.”

Silence fell across the table.

Secretly, Dean was proud of you, and he tapered down a smile. He knew you sensed it when you glanced at him.

“I respect you,” Jack said, pulling your attention away. “But I’m still your father.”

You shook your head. “You don’t, Dad. If you did, it wouldn’t be so hard to tell you that I’m not dating Dean. He’s my soulmate.”

Once again, shock made the air tense. Jack’s eyes were open wide, looking from you, to Dean, and back again. His brows furrowed.

So Dean, ever the tension breaker, offered you and Jack a resigned grin. He pointed to his and Jack’s beer bottles, which were empty.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll get the whiskey.”

When your father’s shock finally wore off, he had plenty of questions for Dean. About where he lived, his job, his life in general—most of which Dean couldn’t answer honestly. Jack was a police detective by trade. As such, he was a perceptive man who knew he wasn’t getting the whole story, but eventually you cut off the inquisition.

You showed Dean up to your room, where you two were able to get some privacy.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, once you both sat on the edge of your bed. “I could tell that, uh…that conversation with your dad was a long time coming.”

You nodded, but you couldn’t quite smile. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied.

Tomorrow. You sighed, but you also tried not to let him sense your darkening emotions. Instead, you sat up straight and gave him a decisive look.

“Okay, then I’m staying with you at Bobby’s tonight,” you said. One more night together.

Dean’s lips raised into a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

You spent that night mostly playing cards with Sam, Dean, and Bobby as they taught you how to hustle poker. You drank and ate and laughed, and at night, you and Dean continued to learn each other’s bodies.

In the morning, you hugged both Sam and Dean goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized again while he held you. “I’ll call you later.”

Holding back your tears, you nodded and kissed him one more time. He tucked a finger beneath your chin to keep your head up. You tried at a smile, which he appreciated.

Then Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala. You watched them leave, and Bobby laid a supportive hand on your shoulder.

The next year was torturous for you both.

Dean updated you after various hunts. Not on a regular schedule, but often enough. Sam started calling now and then with historical questions—some you could answer off the top of your head, and some you actually put in some effort into researching. Dean didn’t like it at first, but soon he started calling you for information himself.

You were smart, quick on your feet, and realistically, a convenient resource since you had access to a university library. You enjoyed it though. You were happy to be helpful to them, but you also liked the research. Often they were interesting topics in the mythologies of different cultures (if you took out the whole hashing and slashing of innocent people and monsters out of it).

But that part too was gratifying; you felt like you were helping them save lives, in whatever small way you could offer.

You also visited Bobby more often. It was your last semester of college and he helped you with your thesis, actually giving you good notes. Dean, bless him, was encouraging, but really only helped you with the movie references. Bobby actually gave you feedback on your writing and added tidbits to the historical aspects as well.

You learned that Bobby was actually really smart. Maybe that was where you got your affinity for history and language arts.

One day though, your uncle noticed that you weren’t as into it as usual. You had a half-drunk beer in your hand while the two of you working in the living room—on the final draft of your thesis.

Bobby had asked you a question about a certain line, but you hadn’t heard him.

“Hey, you awake over there?” he asked. Jolting in your seat, you looked over at him apologetically.

“Sorry, what?”

Bobby smiled wryly. “Let me guess. Dean ain’t called you?”

You shook your head. “I talked to him yesterday. They’re investigating a cursed painting in New York somewhere.”

“So what’s with the face?”

You shrugged. “Nothing.”

After you didn’t give Bobby anything to go on, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Okay…”

You two spent an extended moment in relative silence, where only faint music from the radio played in the background. Plus, the occasional turning of pages from Bobby’s book.

“It’s just,” you started to say. Bobby closed his book with an expectant look on his face.

“I’ve waited twenty-four years to find him,” you said. “Twenty-fucking-four. And now I still have to wait. How long will it be until I can start my life?”

“Well first of all, you’ve been living your life long before Dean,” Bobby pointed out. “You have your own thing going, and right now, so does Dean. When he finishes dealing with his past, he’ll be able to start thinkin’ about his future.”

That was fair, you considered. It made you feel a bit immature when he put it like that. Nor was it realistic of you to expect Dean to drop everything else in his life for you…

You and your uncle had gotten closer over the past few months. So you felt you could ask him something that had been on your mind for a long time.

“Feel free to ignore me, but, about Aunt Karen…was she your soulmate?” you asked.

Bobby looked over at you after sipping at a fifth of whiskey. He seemed reluctant to even say her name.

“She was,” he admitted.

You knew this would be a sensitive subject, but you took a chance. “What happened to her, Bobby?”

At first, he was quiet. You just waited to see what he would say, if he was willing to trust you. After a short while, slowly, he told you.

She’d been possessed by a demon.

Not one exactly like Sam and Dean were hunting, but close enough. However, Bobby didn’t know then what he knew now.

She’d been coming at him with a knife, and before he realized what he was doing, he was defending himself with the same knife. But she just kept coming. It took your father, Jack, to pull her off of him. And Rufus, who had been tracking the thing, broke into Bobby’s house and exorcised the demon.

Then, a black spirit drained out of Karen’s body. She had enough awareness to look down at her three stab wounds before she fell to the floor. Finally, she bled out.

She was gone before either Jack or Bobby could get her to a hospital.

Jack had reluctantly helped cover up the scene by saying she’d suffered a psychotic break and attacked her husband. Bobby’s case was self-defense.

You could relate to that, at least.

By the end of his story, you were trying in vain to stifle your tears. When you were able to speak, you asked another question.

“Then…why does Dad hate you so much if it wasn’t you fault?”

“Because I killed her. My own wife, my…” Bobby sighed, a heavy, sharp exhale. “His baby sister. I can’t blame him.”

Because he still blamed himself. In the end, it was blood all over him and the body of his soulmate in his arms.

You didn’t know how to comfort him, but you tried. Still silently crying, you rested your hands on his arm while he couldn’t quite bring the whiskey back to his lips.

When you graduated in May, you didn’t expect Sam and Dean to come. You’d told them about it, but when the ceremony came and you stood on that stage, you didn’t see the brothers in the crowd. You saw your dad, Bobby, some of your colleagues from the university, and a couple of your best friends from high school.

You forced your disappointment down and accepted your diploma with a smile. You were now finished with school, complete with your master’s degree in Greek and Roman Studies. And in two weeks, you had a job lined up at the local museum. You would be giving exhibit tours, and you already had a script you had to memorize by your first day.

Maybe it was basic, but there was a path for growth there for you. In a few years you could work yourself up to museum curator!

The point was, you felt it was a step in the right direction.

Later at home that night, your dad congratulated you while you cut up the cake he bought for you in the kitchen. He set a hand on your shoulder, subtly asking you to pause what you were doing. You turned to him with a smile.

“I’m proud of you, darlin’,” he said. “You’ve got drive, and you did what you set out to do…so much of you reminds me of your mom that way.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. Thinking about your conversation with Bobby a few weeks ago, you looked at your dad a bit differently. You had compassion for him. Like Bobby, Jack had lost his person. He was just a man who couldn’t let go.

“I get why you have a hard time remembering Mom,” you said. “Now that I have Dean, I can’t imagine how I would feel if I lost him.”

But it was still a monumental fear. Every day that you didn’t hear from Dean between hunts could be nerve-wracking when you thought about what he was doing. Especially when you didn’t know how much he left out for your sake.

So when Jack nodded, you looked up and saw rare emotion in his eyes.

“How’s Dean?” he asked.

“He’s on a job in South Carolina,” you lied, and felt a twinge of guilt doing it. “Severe rat infestation.”

“Okay. And he couldn’t take a couple days off the rats to be here today?”

Your lips pursed at the question—mainly because it was the same one you had. You just didn’t want your dad to know that.

“He’s working hard,” was all that you could think to reply. You knew it totally didn’t convince your dad, but you handed him a slice of cake to shut him up about it.

Later in your room, you laid out your cap and gown on your bed. You debated keeping them in your closet, or just donating them. It wasn’t like you were ever going to wear this again.

Hey, beautiful.

You gasped when Dean’s thoughts startled you. You whipped around and there he was in your doorway, dressed in his usual jeans, shirt, and leather jacket combo. He smiled and held a bouquet of flowers for you.

“Congratulations, Professor,” he said.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you went to him. You actually almost bowled him over by jumping into his arms.

“Whoa!” he said with a laugh. He gripped your thighs tight around his hips but lost a few steps, crashing against the wall and disturbing some of your frames. You both laughed and kissed deeply.

After a while, you slid back down to your feet and he stroked your cheek in affection. He offered you the flowers again, and you accepted them with a pink blush. They weren’t just basic roses. Most of them you couldn’t name, but there were daisies and large orange flowers, thin springs of small white and green ones, white and red flowers that greeted you with soft blooming petals.

“Thank you, these are beautiful,” you said.

His smile fell. “Sorry I’m late.”

Your excitement dimmed, but you shook your head. “It’s okay.”

Dean noticed your cap and gown on the bed and gestured to them.

“Mind modeling that little number for me?” he teased.

Your mouth twitched. “What, really?”

“Yeah, why not? I wanna see the full package of the college grad.”

With another little blush, you obliged him. After setting down the flowers on your dresser, you slipped on your large, silky graduation gown first, then the cap. You adjusted the tassel so it wasn’t directly in your face. Then you grinned and struck a pose for him in the shapeless gown.

“Real sexy, huh?”

Dean smirked. “Absolutely. College girls are always sexy.”

You laughed and dropped the pose. Both of you sat down on the bed while you took off the cap. Dean fixed your frizzy hair as a result.

“Well, officially I’m not a college girl anymore,” you pointed out. “I’m starting at the museum soon, I think I told you.”

Dean nodded. “That’s okay. Hot nerds are even better.”

You giggled and took his larger hand in yours. “Where’s Sam?”

“Chillin’ at Bobby’s.”

“Ah…you saw my dad?”

“Downstairs. Wasn’t exactly happy to see me,” Dean said. “I, uh…I am sorry I couldn’t make it to the big ceremony.”

You shook your head with a smile. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Soon, you fell into the pull of him as he guided you into a kiss. You held his face in your hands, and he tugged you into his lap.

“Up for a sleepover?” you asked between heated kisses. Though it was difficult to think at the moment, Dean hesitated.

“What about your dad?” He groaned when your nails dragged down the back of his neck. You gave a nipping kiss between his neck and shoulder.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” you said against his skin. Normally you wouldn’t dream of doing this when your dad was in the house, but it had been months since you’d seen Dean. Months.

One of your hands moved down between your bodies to palm at the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Well,” he said with a grunt, “I’m always up for a challenge.”

He left you on the bed, just long enough to get up and lock the bedroom door, before he all but tacked you back onto the bed and made you squeal.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Jack heard your bedroom door click. He sighed, trying his damnedest not to think about what might be going on upstairs.

He could storm up there and break down the door (like he was itching to do). You might be an adult, but this was still his house…

But he also didn’t want to disturb the newfound peace he’d found with you today.

Time for a drink, he decided. He grabbed his keys and headed out to the nearest bar.

Jack loved his town. He’d lived here most of his life, met his wife here, started a family and a career and all the rest here. But there was only one good bar, and that meant he was liable to run into his brother-in-law, AKA the town drunk.

Jack spotted Bobby down at the end of the bar with a young man, dark-haired and likely in his early 20s. Jack knew that your Dean was staying at Bobby’s house. Jack also knew that your Dean had a brother, Sam. This dark-haired beanpole was most likely him.

Jack didn’t know much about Dean, or his family, but he wanted to. He wanted to know more about the man in his daughter’s life.

So instead of heeding his instinct to sit at the bar alone, he made his way all the way down and greeted Sam and Bobby civilly.

“Your Dean’s brother?” Jack asked. Sam’s handshake was firm as he nodded. Jack detected the strength behind that loose-fitting flannel.

Hmm, not so much a beanpole, Jack thought.

“Yes, sir. I’m Sam,” he replied.

Jack nodded at their whiskey glasses. “Let me buy another round.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Bobby said.

“It’s all right,” Jack said. “I’ve got it.”

Bobby wasn’t sure what Jack was aiming at. They hadn’t spoken directly in a few years. But he could assume it had something to do with Dean dating the man’s daughter.

Jack turned to Sam and asked mild, probing questions. He learned that Sam had gone to college: pre-law at Stanford. He had been all set to go to law school and become a successful lawyer. Sam sounded like the kind of guy Jack would’ve preferred you end up with.

“But instead, you became a traveling exterminator,” Jack said. “What happened there?”

Dean had evaded this question before, but Sam told him something different.

“Well, uh, to be honest…something happened that kind of derailed things,” Sam said.

“Which was?” Jack asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Sam met his gaze steadily, but Jack saw something deep there, held behind polite bar conversation.

“My girlfriend died,” he confessed.

Jack set down his bourbon on the counter. A tendril of guilt licked down his spine for pressing. “I’m sorry.”

Sam nodded. “After that, I spun out for a while…but Dean, he didn’t let me crash. He got me back working with him on the job. Something…constructive. It kept me going.”

Jack considered that with his glass back up to his lips.

“After my wife died, I had my work and my daughter,” he said. “That’s it. That’s my life. It’s honest.”

Sam inclined his head. The conversation continued from there, on and off while they drank. Bobby interjected every now and then, but he kept nursing his second whiskey.

Eventually though, Sam bowed out with one last shake of Jack’s hand and a pat to Bobby’s back. It left the two older men to finish their drinks.

“They’re hunters, aren’t they? Like your friend Rufus,” Jack said.

Bobby glanced at him. Then he sighed.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But they know what they’re doing.”

Jack shook his head. Goddamn hunters.

But the more he considered his brother-in-law, your conversation with him earlier resonated in his mind.

“I get why you have a hard time remembering Mom,” you had said. “Now that I have Dean, I can’t imagine how I would feel if I lost him.”

Jack looked over at Bobby. As much as he hated to admit it, they were living the same life, more or less. He’d just had you to keep him somewhat anchored. Approaching sane and respectable. Bobby had been alone.

“It doesn’t get easier, does it?” Jack asked.

“What doesn’t?”

“Life,” he replied. “Without her.”

Bobby paused. Once he realized what Jack was really saying, he sighed once again.

“Nope,” he agreed.

“I don’t know Dean Winchester,” Jack said. “You do. Should I be worried?”

“He’s a good kid. Got some rough angles,” Bobby conceded. “But you’ll never find a more loyal man in Creation. He’d break his own neck before he’d hurt that girl.”

Jack nodded. “Good. Saves me the trouble of breakin’ it for him.”

Bobby chuckled and finished his whiskey. Jack ordered him another.

Bobby looked over at him again. “Thanks.”

Jack nodded. They drank in companionable silence until the bar closed.

The next morning, you and Dean stood outside your house on the driveway. The Impala shone next to you in the bright day’s sun. Soon, you’d have to watch the car peel away. In a way, it was harder the second time.

Dean held your cheek and kissed you nice and slow. You knew he could sense what you were feeling right now, but you tried to hold it back from your connection as much as you could.

You let your hand drift down from his shoulder to his chest, over his heart.

I love you, you wanted to say. It was poised on your tongue, but you were afraid of being the first one to say it. Maybe it was silly, but you wondered if you had gotten attached to him more quickly than he had to you.

Meanwhile, Dean sensed your anxiety and worry, but he didn’t hear your thoughts and insecurities that you were holding back. So he just chocked it up to the fact that he was leaving. Guilt nagged at his heart.

“I’ll call you,” he promised. He always promised to call, and he always did. This time, it just didn’t make you feel that much better.

But you still faked a smile and bent to grab the bagged up containers you’d put together for Sam and Dean. It was some homemade chicken parmesan and garlic rolls, which would probably last for all of a couple of hours, knowing Dean.

“Share with your brother this time,” you reminded him. Dean smirked and took the bag from you.

“No promises.”

The next few months were spent with you and Dean each focusing on your jobs. You talked on a frequent non-schedule basis: phone calls on your lunch break, on your commute before or after work, between Dean’s hunts, on long drives across state lines.

When you didn’t have time to talk, you sent emails. Yours were often longer and more detailed than Dean’s, but that was just how he spoke. Direct and to the point, albeit with one or two dirty jokes thrown in.

Sometimes all you two had time for was a brief text here and there. Dean would wish you a good morning. He’d tease you, asking what you were wearing.

“Yoga pants and a ratty old shirt,” you’d replied once.

He’d said: “Hmm, yoga pants.”

You laughed. “You’re ridiculous. I’m literally eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s right now.”

“Ooh, what flavor?”

You’d rolled your eyes. The only thing that distracted his dirty mind was his stomach.

Sometimes you would send him a new song to listen to (which he would complain about, if it was anything past 1989).

But then that day came.

That dreaded day when Dean didn’t answer your call. It wasn’t just that he didn’t answer right then. You had finished your last tour of the museum for a class of second graders and were walking out to your car. It wasn’t unusual for Dean to hit you back later if he was mid-hunt.

So you waited until the evening without a response. A warning bell trilled in your mind, but you tried not to get worried just yet. You decided to text him.

Hey, just checking in.

You went to bed that night still waiting for his reply.

Then the morning came, and you went a little crazy. You called him twice, then Sam.

When Sam didn’t pick up, that little bell in your mind was a screaming fire alarm. It was a Friday though. You still had to go to work.

So you got ready for your day as usual, though even your manager Jerry noticed that you were distracted. You had been working at the museum for around six months now, and you had proven yourself to be a dedicated worker and enthusiastic about your work. So Jerry knew when you were having an off day.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay, well, you’ve got another tour in five minutes,” he reminded you, before he tsked and rushed over to a group of teenagers who were messing with the neanderthal exhibit.

You sighed. The moment you thought about checking your phone again, it rang in your pocket.

Quickly you checked who it was, your eyes widening. You answered, “Sam? Is everything okay? I’ve been calling—”

“Listen,” Sam said. “I…I need to tell you something.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you heard his tone. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good.

“What happened?” you asked.

“We found our dad,” he said. “And the demon.”

You gasped and moved to a corner of the museum for some privacy. “You did? That’s…that’s great! But what—”

“We got into an accident,” said Sam. “My dad and I are okay, but Dean, he’s…”

Your breath stilled in your lungs, even as your heart started to pound.

“Where are you?” You started toward the back offices to grab your purse and fished for your car keys. While Sam told you the hospital and the city, your heels clacked on the shiny tile as you booked it to your car.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jerry asked.

You put Sam on hold for a moment and said, without hesitation (and tears in your eyes):

“I’m sorry, I have a family emergency. My boyfriend just got hit by a truck.”

AN: Aaand another cliffhanger. But I'm sure you know where this is going next...

2.01 "In My Time of Dying," in which the reader finally meets John Winchester, but she could end up losing Dean for good this time.

(Also, there are just a few more chapters after this. I promise I won't go through the entire show lol.)

To keep reading: PART 9

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @happygoodvibe @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1ller1 @icequeen1371 @mininjageek @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @thespnlover

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cyb3rspyd3r · 8 months

Text

"YOURE THE REASON ☆."

pairing: e!1610 miles x blk fem! reader

summary: miles explains how he kept up his spiderman job for you

a/n: THIS FIC IS BASED OFF MY FAVORITE SONGG 😋go listen to spread thin by mariah the scientist u wont be disappointed

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

you waited for miles to come back home after a while , but you knew he had an entire superhero job or wtv so it wasn't gonna be a short period of time that he was gone. but you were a spider person too , so understood how hard the job could be at times.

you scrolled through tiktok on your phone , trying to make the time that miles was gone pass by easier. you began to get tired of scrolling and put your phone down , laying on your bed and looking up at the ceiling. as your eyes closed , you started feeling your body getting tired as you tried to stay awake. your body began to get tired and you started to drift off to sleep.. you woke up from your slight slumber by a knock on your door.

"mamii , u awake?" the familiar voice made you perk up , it was no one other than your boyfriend , miles. as you got up from your bed taking off the covers , you heard him grunt which caused you to speed up a little faster to the door.

you opened the door to see miles with his jacket on and shorts , his suit was shown slightly under his jacket , it was ripped and he was bleeding slightly. "miles.. oh my wtf happened this time.." you rushed to get him in the room , laying him down on the bed and grabbing towels and bandages from your drawer.

"nothin ma .. js patch me up real quick i'll be good" miles gave you a faint smile , it was forced due to how much pain he was in. he was happy that you were always the one to bandage him up when he was injured , he liked callin you his lil nurse.

"noo miles i been told u to ask miguel for a break..god u dont listenn" you placed a towel on one of his wounds , trying to stop the bleeding. "this happened last week and you didn't ask him , u finna end up gettin srsly hurt u gotta stop." you scolded him , you didn't wanna lose him , and the way he was getting hurt left and right .. it could possibly happen.

"mami i gotta stop the spot before he gets to the collider because if he does it'll-" you put a hand over miles mouth , causing him to look up at you and lose his train on thought. "no miles. he can call millions of other spider people for that job but you're not going." miles took your hand off his mouth so he could speak , smiling which caused you to have a perplexed look.

"ma. listen. im doin this for the city not just myself.. and since i'm doing it for the city i'm mainly doing it for you.. i gotta protect you ma i can't lose my most precious gem." you were left speechless as miles put a hand on your cheek , caressing it with his thumb. "you're the reason ma. you're the reason i kept goin with my spiderman job."

you smiled lightly , the traced thought of miles still being able to get hurt ran through your mind but it slowly faded due to his smile , it brightened up your mood like it always does. miles had the prettiest smile , it could warm up a whole room.

"i love you miles.. but you're not going on that mission tomorrow. i'm textin miguel later and letting him know you're injured." you giggled , getting up and grabbing your phone off the charger bringing it over to where you and miles were sitting.

miles kissed you on your forehead, hugging you while pulling you onto him. "ight you got it ma."

taglist: @gw3ndyswonderland @nokkihy @444morales @all444miles @hiimayee @depressedmusliim @arielliio @laaailuh

#miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miles x you #miles molares #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #black reader #💘 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐢'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 .#atsv #hope you like it #atsv miles

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for not buying something for a friend on card when they only have cash? (profanity warning up ahead lol) 🦈🦈🦈

A few months ago myself and some of my friends (fake names: Lucy F, Mark M, Kai NB, Jenny F, Charlie NB) decided to go see a movie at the local cinema (we chose it because it's the cheapest in the area). For a very long time, this place only accepted cash unless you booked tickets in advance but after COVID now operates exclusively on contactless payments — no exceptions. Whenever we got there everybody had already booked tickets so we went right into the theatre to get good seats (tickets don't have specific seats at this cinema; it's first come, first served). Once we got our seats of choice, we decided to go to the cinema shop for food in pairs so that nobody would take out spot and after Mark and Kai went, Lucy and I went.

I went first and paid for a medium popcorn and a small box of Maltesers but when it was Lucy's turn she only had cash, therefore could not pay, which made her get snappy at the worker there who obviously couldn't do anything about it. Lucy then asked me if I could pay on card and she could repay me with cash (which is a reasonable request but shit goes sideways after this) so I checked my balance to see if I could. Turns out I only had twenty cents left on my card.

Side note: we're all teenagers and Lucy, Mark, Charlie and I don't have jobs because at the time we were still considered to young to be hired in my area unless we wanted to get paid severely below the minimum wage (McDonald's, I see you). My money consists solely of birthday money that I can spend on buying gifts for myself and others, and going out with my friends. I budget myself strictly because I don't have a steady source of income and keep my unspent money in my savings dedicated towards university. My parents won't start a uni fund for me until I get my first job (which I personally think is fairly reasonable so that I can work for my education) Also I've been saving money in my budget to see this movie for a while since I was excited about it's release (FNAF lol).

Anyway, I tell Lucy I only have 20c and I'm sorry, but she snatches my phone without asking to look at my bank details to see $400 in savings (I know it's not enough for uni but please bare with me /lh). I naturally freaked out in my head and take it back from her, worried that she was going to try buy food anyway, read my bank account details or take money out of my literal uni fund. When I quickly explained it was my only fund for university and I didn't feel comfortable whittling it down (we're in public and there's a line of three people behind Lucy) she gets mad and properly yells that I'm being a "selfish bitch" and only thinking about myself, and that I should just pay for her anyway so she can give me the cash (I would have nowhere safe to keep it in my house as my sister takes any physical money and lies about it, which she has done to me before). I offer to go back to the group and take someone else down like Jenny or Kai who can make the trade or that she can share my food (she likes popcorn and Maltesers) but she again called me a "bitch" at the top of her lungs in a public space with people behind her and families with young children nearby, and stormed back to the theatre, leaving me to apologise to the workers and members of the public.

We go back to the theatre and I again offer for her to share my food and ask if any of my friends could do the trade but she once more announced I was a "selfish, stupid bitch" quote unquote and that it didn't matter anymore anyways. She proceeded to sulk the rest of the movie and later when we walked around the area just for fun.

Later when we all went home, it turned out Lucy, immediately after I got on my bus, made a group chat with everybody but me to talk shit about me. I found out about this because I was on the bus home with Mark (we're practically neighbours) and he showed me the messages right away. She had completely changed the story to make her a hapless victim that I, the unfeeling antagonist, publicly shamed even though after the movie I apologised to her again (I genuinely felt like shit after all of it) and explained the situation to my curious friends (Lucy agreed with what I said then — except I kept out the "bitch" stuff — but rewrote the whole story in their group chat).

At school she started avoiding myself, Mark, Charlie, and other friends who didn't go see the FNAF movie with us because apparently they were all on "my side" (I didn't realise that this whole thing was a big deal or that there were definitive sides people had to choose). Kai and Jenny (who were sticking with Lucy but still talking to the rest of us) came up to me separately and told me that Lucy was "hurt by my actions" and just because I didn't like her, didn't give me the right to "take that experience away". I asked why they thought I didn't like her and that's how I found out she had been talking shit about me for months behind my back (and others like Mark and people who didn't go see the movie), which did upset me because I still considered Lucy a friend despite all this.

Kai and Jenny told me to apologise. Mark and Charlie told me not to. I haven't yet and it's been over a month now. Lucy, Kai and Jenny still hang out with us but Lucy still shit-talks myself and others and will consistently bring up that I didn't pay for her despite the fact that it was ages ago now and I really didn't think it was that deep.

Do you guys think I'm the asshole for not draining my uni funds to get my friend a popcorn and Maltesers, and then not apologising when she tried to turn our friends against me over it?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Note

You have provided so many headcanons and, with a lurker’s thankful heart, I am now giving you my steddie headcanon, built entirely around the idea that Steve knows he’s queer but has no idea at all that he’s kinky. I’m thinking this takes place when Eddie and Robin and Steve have all come out to each other but Eddie hasn’t explained to anyone what that black bandana in his pocket is about; either steddie are pre-slash besties or a recently established relationship.

Steve’s been stressed and Eddie really wants to do something for him, so one day they’re hanging out and Eddie asks what Steve’s idea of the most relaxing day ever is.

Steve’s like “Oh, man, I’d love a day where I don’t have to think, like, at all. Zero decision making.”

“Right, right, a lord in his castle keep, languorous and content with pizza and a constant rotation of movies and high as fuck.” Eddie has already psychically made his way to Family Video and picked up Steve’s favorite films and is mentally on his way to Melvald’s to get all his favorite snacks when Steve interrupts—

“No, no, if it was that easy I could set that up for myself. No I need another person who I really really trust who wouldn’t mind a lot of planning; I’d ask Robin but I think by hour two being in charge she’d start to get bored or start to catastrophize. I could plan the day for her and just let her run it, but that sorta defeats the purpose. Actually,” and he sits up, looks at Eddie consideringly, “actually with those long campaigns you do, I bet you could plan it. And I trust you… it’s kinda weird though.”

Eddie’s like “You know I love weirdos; hit me with it Stevie.”

Steve, starts off slowly, darting looks at Eddie’s face while he talks. “It’s morning, and my alarm isn’t set. Alarm clock isn’t even plugged in. Is it because I’m sleeping in? No— it’s because it is Someone Else’s Responsibility to get me up on time, and I trust them to do it. They wake me up and normally- depending on the day- I’d decide if I’ll shower or take a bath or just wash my face and brush my teeth before doing my hair but not this day.

No, on Steve Doesn’t Think Day they wake me up and tell me how to clean up. I’m in there and they knock on the door and say “hey, Steve, I set your outfit out on the bed. when you’re done get dressed and come to the kitchen.” and I do! I still have a whole closet and wardrobe full of clothes that I don’t have to consider. Does my outfit match the weather? Is it color coordinated? Does it match the plans for the day? It probably is all those things, but I’m not worried about that. I’m just a very good listener, who doesn’t decide things.

And then I go in the kitchen!” Steve, excited, getting into it, starts pacing around. “Are there groceries? Am I cooking breakfast? Are we going to brunch later? Was that budgeted for? Is it a cereal day or a coffee and toast day or a full spread day? There are answers to all of those questions, and whoever woke me up has them. I don’t give a damn. They hand me a cup of coffee, I’m like thank you very much, they’re like of course, Steve, good job, Steve, I’m proud of you, Steve, don’t worry about it, Steve, you let me worry about it. Just. You know, man.

A full day of going places and doing things and not having to stress or plan for it any of it. I don’t have to drive, unless they tell me to drive. I don’t have to talk to other people unless they tell me to talk! Maybe I bitch a little, because complaining is fun!! And they don’t get angry at me for it and their feelings don’t get hurt because they know I’m just gonna listen in the end anyway. Total relaxation, no decisions, complete faith that whoever’s in charge won’t put me in a bad spot.”

And dom top Eddie, white knuckling his black bandana trying really hard not to vibrate apart at a molecular level while he listens to Steve Harrington describe lifestyle submission as his most ideal day, fighting to answer in a calm and level voice: “Steve-o, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you.”

They have a long conversation and after Eddie’s like I want you to go in the other room and really think about what you want from this because I’ll take charge of you for the day but we need boundaries and guidelines; go consider this seriously for at least an hour. Steve respects Eddie (and also enjoys acts of service and doing what he’s told) so of course he listens. This does lead to Steve repeatedly sticking his head into the room Eddie’s in to say something unhinged, like

“Hey, sometimes when I’m struggling to get out of my own head I purposely wear my starchiest tightest jeans and my tightest polo and it kinda restricts my movement and reach and breathing and brings a constant awareness of my body that I find really grounding — is that bondage and do you think I should be tied up? okay, okay, thanks, restart the hour please.”

It’s a long afternoon for Eddie.

This is.

Art.

This is art.

Thank you for sending this in, please tell me you plan to write more of this because I would love that very much.

I love just about any type of realization Steve has about his kinks, but the one where he just realizes that the stuff he likes is actually very kinky and Eddie is the one to tell him hits every check mark for me.

Thank you thank you thank you for this. I hope you catch every green light on your daily travels and no one ever talks to you unless you want them to. ❤️

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon #not mine #but my god i hope there's more of this soon

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sunbloomdew · 10 months

Text

Love Confessions in the Baxter DLC

The sequel! Monochrome obsession continues. Part 2/3

Part 1 "The Wedding Confession"

Welcome, or hello again! I played the Baxter DLC a couple of times and I like it a lot, so I wanted to ramble about some of my favourite parts. Specifically about love confessions in Baxter’s version of Step 4, because they are all very well written and make me feel good :3

Reading the first part of this "series" isn't necessary, the introduction is just a bit more thorough in the first post. Furthermore if you've read the first part it might seem like i'm repeating myself with certain points, since those moments share some similarities and i like to be meticulous.

It is time for the second confession and the last one that can be initiated by the player. If you don’t confess here and pick an option in which MC expresses hope of Baxter returning their feelings, you will later reach the moment where Baxter asks MC out himself. This confession is my personal favourite, so prepare for me losing my mind over every single detail.

Spoilers for Baxter DLC!

The confessions all happen after the wedding ceremony, so if you hadn't played to this point yet, i recommend skipping this post (and maybe coming back later, if you wanna chat about them with me)! I may not bring up every single line, but i think this post still covers a good part of what happens.

I call this confession, The Morning Confession, because it takes place on the morning after the wedding! Simple name but it does the job.

There is also another reason for this name, but i'll get to it later.

The wedding is over and most stuff had been cleaned up. MC returns with Baxter to his apartment, after accepting his invitation to stay with him until they have to come back to their home. The two have finally reunited and they aren’t ready to part ways yet.

During that evening, MC and Baxter share a moment by the fireplace in the lobby of the building. I wanted to dedicate some time to this moment, because I think it’s a valuable context to the confession. And aside from providing insight into the mind of Baxter Ward, I love the way it’s written. So sue me, i wanna talk about it.

Despite the fact that they have reconciled, Baxter’s reasoning behind his actions still isn’t fully clear to MC. While being in the company of other people made the lingering unease between them bearable, it still remains. They can't act casually, as if nothing had happened, as if the years hadn’t been lost. So Baxter offers to clarify his point of view. “As sorry as I am, I don’t think I’ve been as open as I could have been” he says and well, that is the truth.

If the player chose to confess to Baxter before this conversation, this moment provides a deeper understanding of the character and explains his reluctance to accept the confession.

It is here by a fireplace – a fitting spot for another personal conversation, considering the duo's shared history – that Baxter reveals his innermost thoughts and fears. At his core, he believes he doesn’t contribute anything to any relationship, because he can't see his own value. And to him, if he doesn’t add anything, then he has no right to form and be in deep, mutually supportive relationships.

Baxter convinced himself that he doesn’t matter. That his only worth is in the entertainment he can provide or the help he can give. In his own words, he doesn’t know what it means to be significant to a person, just by being yourself. Which is why he doesn’t let people get close to him. He assumes that upon finding out that there is nothing more to him, they will leave. So it’s better to not let anybody get to know him, that way no one can be disappointed by his “true” self. He is unable to see that none of that is true because deep down, he thinks he is worthless as a person.

Those feelings about himself are something that have influenced Baxter’s decisions about relationships with other people, for example with Xavier. As the baker reveals later, they always felt that if Baxter had no reason to contact them again, he wouldn't. He kept himself away from others and believed that every connection he makes isn’t meant to last.

Still, Baxter wanted to create bonds with other people. And it terrified him.

He wanted to have that with MC, but he was too afraid to take that chance five years ago. It couldn't have worked out back then. Baxter had his assumptions about himself and others, and he held onto them strongly. It’s sad, but there was no way to make him change his ways back then. He was set on leaving no matter what would have happened.

This Baxter is different from the 19 year old who put his comfort above all else. During that conversation by the fireplace he is being vulnerable in ways he never allowed himself to be before. He tells MC that he missed them over those five years. That they made him feel wanted that summer, and as incredible as it felt, he couldn’t believe it would last. He makes it clear that it wasn’t any of MC’s actions that made him feel that way - he applied this mindset to every connection he made at that time.

It’s incredibly sad to witness his thoughts out in the open like that. I think Baxter’s struggles are something most of us can relate to in some way. Low self-esteem can make people withdraw from social situations and spiral into self-hatered. It’s terrible, to be so wrapped up in disliking yourself that you assume that nobody could ever like you. That you have no good qualities as a person, so you have to make up for them somehow. It can feel like it'll stay this way forever, and so there is no point in trying to connect with others.

However that is not true. In the end, Baxter came to understand this as well. He is worthy of love and friendship. He grew and learned from his past mistakes, and so can we.

He apologises to MC once again, and expresses deep regret over not staying in contact with them. And at last, MC can say that they actually know Baxter Alexander Ward.

I think this moment is really beautiful. It’s an apology without excuses, that provides an explanation. Baxter never had malicious intentions, but even so, his actions had hurt people who cared for him (and who he cared about), so he owns up to his mistakes and does his best to correct them.

Aside from being a really good moment of taking accountablity and being vulnerable with another person this conversation also sets the mood for the morning confession. The air is finally cleared. These two characters can finally show how much they value each other because there is mutual understanding and trust between them again. It will take some time to get to know each other after so long, but they are willing to try, and they know they can be honest.

After a day full of emotional revelations, Baxter and MC finally head to bed. Not only the characters, but the players can take a breath and prepare for what’s to come. And boy are we in for a treat.

The next day arrives and the players are given an option to sleep in as much as they want. What time MC wakes up will have an effect on dialogues and is one of the many examples of how the game lets us customize the protagonist however we want, even in the silliest ways. It is something i deeply appreciate about the Our Life series. The comfort level also changes the lines, for example MC's response to Baxter greeting them in the morning.

Eventually the sleeping beauty wakes up and the pair moves to the living room. Despite sleeping in for a while Baxter is still out of it and it’s so adorable (he's just like me fr).

I think the tone set for the confession is lovely. The atmosphere in the morning is relaxing and light and to me it feels like this is exactly what those characters needed. A new day has arrived, not only literally but figuratively for their relationship. There is no negative tension in the air, just the feeling of peace. They are clearly enjoying each other's company and it's great to finally have that again.

This is only my opinion, but the way this moment feels is exactly why i like it more than the wedding confession. The previous confession is meant to feel rushed, high on emotions and full of determination to declare the feelings right away. MC feels like they have to be upfront about their feelings in that moment so they confess. I do enjoy this type of tension, but i simply prefer this kind of setting. As much as i love convincing Baxter to truly express his feelings by shooting down the reasons not to date him (it's so intense and dramatic! absolutely amazing) i find that i like this quiet admission of feelings more.

While it might not be that intense as the moment right after the wedding, there is still this nagging feeling that urges MC not to wait any longer. They love that they are included in this private corner of Baxter's life and they wish they could have been before. It's this feeling of not wanting to lose any more time, that makes them think about confessing then and there.

And so, the player is presented with a choice:

It is time to confess! Hallelujah.

Just like in the wedding confession we can pick the way we want to confess - with words or with a gesture. If we pick the third option you lose the chance to confess yourself. Instead Baxter will do this when the time comes.

Upon choosing one of the ways to confess, MC has the same internal monologue they do in the wedding confession. I've already shared my thoughts about it in the previous post, but i'll just say here that it's a very nice scene. They reminisce about their relationship with Baxter as a whole, eventually coming to the conclusion, that they can hold on to him.

After the monologue ends, the player has a chance to reaffirm their decision, as they did in the previous confession.

If you back out, MC thinks that they can be together just not in the way they'd want to. They are afraid of confessing, in case they ruin what they just got back and make Baxter run away.

But, if you reaffirm your decision, you get my personal favourite confession scene. Let's get right into it!

I mentioned in Part 1 that Baxter reacts to MC's silence, as they reminisce about their relationship. I find it a little funny when i imagine them just sitting in silence and staring intensely for a while. Kinda like when magical girls have their transformations and the bad guys don't do anything to interrupt them. MC monologuing definitely gives off the same energy. Writing inner monologues is tricky like that.

During the wedding confession Baxter is anxious and worried, waiting to receive MC's verdict. Do they welcome him back to their life? Or do they reject him (even though there is no such option in the game)?. It's stressful and the prolonged silence makes Baxter slowly come back to his usual behaviour to protect himself, in case his vulnerability was the wrong move.

This isn't the case here. His reaction is wildly different. There is no tension or stress, just curiosity and anticipation. Instead of being nervous he is very smug, clearly knowing or at least suspecting what MC is thinking about. I gotta say, when i first picked this option i was stunned. I did NOT expect him to act in this way, but it was a pleasant surprise. Mr. Ward is very perceptive and i love this confident attitude of his.

MC asks him what is on his mind, and he comes back to reality. Baxter encourages them to continue, but they insist he tells them what's going on. And that's what he does. He says that he was remembering a "funny story". Then he asks MC if they want to know something absolutely embarrassing. With that kind of an opening, how could they refuse?

Baxter tells them that Jude and Scott attempted to speak to him about his and MC's... situation. He was surprised that they noticed he was sad and wanted to help him, when he was supposed to be doing that with their relationship. I think it was his feelings of inferiority that made him feel that way.

Moving on, the reason he brought that up wasn't to draw attention to how his poor relationship management skills made others concerned for him. But rather to point out, that the men knew, that MC is important to Baxter. Baxter states that he was grateful they met and despite ending their relationship five years ago, he was never sorry he knew MC. He is kinda chaotic with his admission, one second bringing up the chat with the grooms and the other expressing his affection for MC.

Understandably, it makes MC confused. They thought they were the one leading the dance - or the conversation in this case - but clearly now it's Baxter doing that (i mean he is a professional). Even so, he isn't as good with his words as usual and doesn't quite manage to convey what he wants to MC.

He thanks MC for letting him "ramble" for so long and stands up. Shit's getting real. We're about to enter the boss fight.

He moves to sit on the edge of the coffee table, which puts him at the eye level with MC, only closer than before. And then this silly man leans closer acting all calm and confident. Dude. Please. Everytime i play this moment i lose my precious ability to formulate thoughts, not to mention actual sentences. Because. Oh my god.

And then he hits you with THAT. He absolutely knew what MC was thinking about and he is having a lot of fun with teasing them. They realize that he caught on to what was going on and figure that at least it makes it easier to confess. The dialogue varies in this place because of the comfort level - these are their thoughts on the Direct setting. They also think about how hard would it be to tell him they liked him before he opened up to them. I find it pretty funny, because it’s clearly a tiny poke, towards players who did confess right after the wedding and faced this struggle. When you’re replaying those moments it does make you chuckle.

Now we can finally confess our feelings! When doing that verbally there are a couple of options to choose from, as in the case of the wedding confession. One of the options is: "Could I consider all the time we spent together a date?" and you already know i love this one. It's playful, it's a reference to when Baxter asked MC out five years ago, it's perfect. There is no contender, i always choose it.

...Is what i would say, but i actually always choose the option to confess with a kiss during this feelings reveal.

Confessing with a kiss looks a bit different from the first confession. This time there aren't multiple options to choose where we want to kiss him, MC goes straight (or is it?) for the lips. And the way that kiss is described is everything to me. I'm an absolute sucker for kissing scenes and this one is just so, so, so good! I cannot find fitting words in english (and neither can i in polish) so i'll just drop one screenshot from it and move along before i combust.

It's so tender and sweet and adorable please-

While Baxter was acting super confident and cocky, the second MC declares their love for him/moves to kiss him he turns into a shy, blushing mess. Despite knowing or at least suspecting what MC was about to do he is still caught of guard. I think that his reaction is absolutely adorable. Baxter doesn't blush a lot, so it's always a treat when he does.

We can choose to tell Baxter, that MC wanted to be with him even five years ago and this stuns him again.

Now that MC have confessed their love they're waiting for Baxter to respond. But GOD, is he struggling. It's the first time Baxter is so flustered and it makes me so giddy. He allows himself to show how much MC means to him and holy shit, this man cannot look at them for too long because he will just blush even harder.

From the way he is acting it's already clear that he reciprocates MC's feelings. But the fact that he gets so shy? Stole my heart, sir how dare you be so cute.

Of course, Baxter Ward cannot stay flustered for long and he eventually recovers. Damn it.

His response to the confession is so sweet. He basically says "my turn" and tells MC all the things he loves about being with them, how they made him feel and how much he appreciates them. There is still a moment of self-loathing, when Baxter regrets trying to keep MC out of his life- twice. He is surprised that MC still has feelings for him, still wants to be with him despite all the pain he caused them.

He still brings up all the potential reasons why this could be a bad idea. Limited connections, his current financial situation and his past ways of managing relationships. But unlike in the Wedding Confession, here those aren't statements for MC to refute. I'd say they are less of a warning for MC and more of an expose of himself, to be sure that he revealed everything he considers a flaw before accepting their confession. "By all accounts, I shouldn't be doing this. But I am." - those are his words. Even if he still has his doubts, he isn't going to turn MC down anymore. If he let them go now, in fear of potentially not being enough in this relationship, he would regret it.

And so that is his response: "If you'll have me you will have me." Don't mind if i do- yoink.

While he calmed down a bit for this admission, he gets flustered yet again. It's so adorable to see him be so affected by MC and this situation.

Baxter says that it was easier asking MC out himself all those years ago. He is still so out of it that he voices out loud that he has no idea what to do now. His usual grace and poise are still on leave it seems. He follows it up with that it would be the best if he switched from sitting on the coffee table to somewhere with a backrest, just in case. Dude. Baxter is so strongly impacted by this confession that he is fully aware that there is a possiblity that he will just topple down. I'm melting, it's so cute!

He moves to the couch and MC joins him over there. Once Baxter calms down a bit, he says he is starting to "remember some possiblities" and the two kiss again. I can't even begin describe how much i love the way the kissing moments are written. They're amazing and i'm losing my mind.

The last question Baxter has is if his feelings were obvious to MC. He recounts when Jude asked him point-blank if he was still 'into' MC - we get a couple of dialogue answers to pick, either reacting to Jude even asking about it or answering Baxter's question.

And that is the end of this confession! Baxter overcomes his sheepishness at last, no longer blushing intensely. Quite a shame, but i think we all love his usual charming self as well.

There are no more reservations about showing his true feelings. The pair has been reunited after five years and are finally ready to start a long-term relationship. Good for them <3

Baxter shares one last thought at the end of this long conversation:

And yes, this is the other reason why i call this confession the Morning Confession specifically! It's entirely because of Baxter pointing it out. And because he is so surprised about this turn of events.

The second part is finally over! I worked on it during those two weeks (holy fuck, why) it took me to post it. I'm a bit bummed it took me this long to finish it, but i did my best <3

This part is definitely longer than the first, the brainrot got to me. I haven't started the third part yet but i already replayed the last confession scene and honestly? I forgot how good it was compared to the other two! Shame on me, truly.

See you in the third part! Peace out~

Part 1

#baxter ward #our life beginnings & always #olba baxter #baxter dlc #olba #our life beginnings and always #our life #gamer hours #sunbloom talks #gb patch games

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wizardofrozz · 6 months

Note

I don't think I submitted an ask to you yet lol so: for the first kiss prompts,

the hands. on the waist. oh my god. with Fox!! ❤️

Above Coruscant

Commander Fox x reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: 18+ for suggestive actions, groping, and mention of war. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Well this got away from me but I really shouldn't be surprised...its Fox after all 😂 pretty sure I'm going to write smut that follows this because I can't contain myself when it comes to Fox lmao. Also, if you're a Republic Commando fan, there's a tiny (just a mention) cameo for all of you 👀

The landing pad was empty, Coruscant’s faint breeze ruffling your hair as you leaned against the railing. You occasionally glanced down at the dots of people moving around below, only paying half a mind to the message you were typing. With a soft sigh, you send the message to Captain Obrim, tucking your datapad away and turning to lean back against the railing.

Your job with the Coruscant Security Force put you in some interesting situations over the years but the start of the Clone Wars had ramped up your workload, especially when Jaller had offered you a spot in his Anti-Terrorism unit. The job also came with some new coworkers in the form of the Coruscant Guard, specifically the four commanders. It took some time, but slowly you started to get to know each of the commanders despite coordinating with Commander Fox the most.

He could be...stiff at times. You didn’t like to use cold because after watching him interact with his men, he was anything but. However, the more time you spent around him seemed to have him warming up to you. Now, if only that didn’t make your stupid little crush on him worse.

You felt like a teenager again, getting giddy when you knew you’d see him but the worst part was that he seemed to return the feelings. His smile softened a bit when he looked at you, he stood just a little too close and brought you caf just the way you liked it when you spent hours debriefing the Guard. Sometimes, he’d even flirt with you, just enough to make your stomach somersault. But then it would stop abruptly.

Fox held back, pulling away when you tried to meet him halfway and it would’ve hurt if you didn’t see the emotion reflected in his expression every time.

The thump of footsteps forced your mind back to the present and Maker, did you wish you could’ve stayed oblivious. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you scanned from his heavy boots upward. You’d never seen Fox in anything but crimson armor and you hated that this outfit was doing something for you.

It was a simple outfit, just plain brown pants, a black shirt, and a black jacket but there was something oddly alluring about seeing him look so...normal. You swallowed around the lump in your throat and stood straighter as he approached, absently brushing a stubborn curl off his forehead. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach when you noticed that his cheeks were a little rosey and it occurred to you that he probably caught you checking him out.

“Commander,” you greeted, praying your voice didn’t sound as breathless as you felt. A small, unconscious smile lifted the corner of his mouth and it made your face feel too hot.

“Startin’ to think I’m late,” he huffed, glancing at the speeder parked nearby.

“Nah, I wasn’t far,” you replied with a shrug, wandering closer to the speeder, prompting him to follow. You grabbed the spare helmet off the back and tossed it to Fox, smirking when he almost fumbled to catch it. Fox’s brows knitted together as he stared down at the modified Ubese helmet. When his eyes lifted again you shrugged, moving to take it from him.

“You don’t have to wear it immediately but when we get to the club you’ll have to put it on,” you explained, tucking the helmet into one of the bike’s saddle bags.

“Will I be able to breathe in it?” Fox eyed the helmet apprehensively, leaning over to look into the saddle bag.

“No, Fox, I’m gonna let you suffocate,” you huffed, arching a brow. “It’s modified so you’ll be able to breathe but it also acts as a good excuse for why you can’t take it off.” Fox hummed, resting his hands on his hips and looking at you through his lashes.

“Alright,” he mumbled, his eyes following the length of the speeder. There was a hint of color high on his cheeks when he glanced in your direction again. “We’re sharing, huh?”

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug. But there was a small part of you that hoped he really didn’t mind. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment before he bent down to grab one of the riding helmets you’d managed to find. Fox tossed the helmet so it twisted around before he caught it again, slipping it over his head with ease. The visor was still up when his gaze drifted back to you, allowing you to see the way his eyes wrinkled as he smirked.

Yeah, you had definitely been staring.

You quickly pulled your helmet on, trying not to watch as Fox climbed onto the bike, scooting forward to leave room for you. You almost wondered if Jaller purposefully didn’t find a second speeder. Fox tensed slightly when your hand gripped his shoulder, using it to steady yourself as you climbed on. His head turned, watching you from the corner of his eye as you settled in behind him.

Logically, you knew there was only one way to keep yourself safely on the bike but now that you were faced with the reality of it, your face burned. You moved slowly, wrapping your arms around his waist and your mouth felt too dry at the heat simmering in his dark eyes. You pulled in a slow, calming breath and shifted to get comfortable. Your exhale was cut off with a yelp when two large hands wrapped around your wrist, pulling you tighter against Fox’s back. His voice was muffled behind the helmet but the mischief twinkling in his eyes told you he knew what he was doing.

“Don’t wantcha fallin’ off.” You rolled your eyes, thankful he couldn’t see the small smile on your face, and tightened your arms around his torso. Fox glanced over his shoulder one last time with a wink before snapping the visor of his helmet down. The speeder’s engine roared as Fox twisted the throttle, the speeder shooting forward and you instinctively squeezed his torso. Shithead.

Skyscrapers whizzed by as Fox sped up, merging into the nearest skylane. It was going to be a long ride to the club you were supposed to infiltrate and usually, it wouldn’t bother you. However, Fox was never involved in any of the other long trips you’d been on. The slow, even movement of his chest under your hands was oddly distracting and you shifted your hands toward his waist. You tried to let your mind wander but every minute shift of the man in front of you made it nearly impossible.

You shifted back slightly, suddenly aware of how your legs framed his, your mind conjuring up a few of the dreams that had you waking up blushing. Fox settled into the seat, sitting up a bit straighter, and the movement forced your hands a bit lower. His stomach was warm and solid, your fingers itching to trace the lines of muscle you could feel under his clothes. Maybe it was his cheeky little wink or the fact that your crush was only getting worse the longer you knew him that had you sliding your hand under his coat. Fox’s fingers flexed, gripping the handlebars a little tighter and you smirked to yourself.

His stomach clenched, his hips shifting slightly when you pressed your palm under his ribs. The howl of the wind was muffled through your helmet and you turned your head, watching the beings in the vehicles around you. Fox’s chest expanded with a deep breath and you took the opportunity to shift your hand, dropping it lower, dragging it across his stomach. He didn’t react, switching lanes to avoid a speeder going under the speed limit.

You were toeing a line that you’d stayed far away from up to this point...and Fox was letting you. He could’ve pushed your hands away, making it clear he didn’t want this but instead, he leaned more of his weight against you. Taking a deep breath, you let your hands wander, sliding down enough to almost brush the waistband of his pants before moving to rest them against his hips.

You lingered there for a bit, not squeezing, just lightly holding onto his hips as he maneuvered through Coruscant’s busy skylanes. Fox stiffened when your hands finally moved, sliding down to his thighs and you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing, licking your lips absently. Fox tilted his head, almost like he was trying to crack it, and your confidence only grew. Muscles flexed under your hands and you ached to feel him without layers of fabric in the way.

Fox’s thigh twitched when you trailed your fingers a little higher, brushing the inseam of his pants. But you didn’t stop there, lazily following the stitching upward, applying just enough pressure for him to feel it. You were almost at the bulge in his pants, ready to pull back when Fox’s hips shifted forward, and you froze, hand hovering inches away from his crotch. Fox turned his head and you could almost see the anxiety in the set of his shoulders. You had to make a choice.

Fox’s hip jerked again when you lightly cupped him through his pants.

You couldn’t hear him but you could feel a groan rumble through his chest and you shivered. His head tipped back when you squeezed lightly, his back straightening as he sat up. His cock twitched against your hand and you gasped into the privacy of your helmet. Then suddenly nerves buzzed under your skin, uncertainty threatening to eat you up. You wanted this more than anything but stepping over that line was big, to say the least.

Anxiety quickly got the better of you and you released him, ready to pull away only for a large hand to cover yours. You blinked at the back of his helmet, chewing on your bottom lip when his head turned to glance over his shoulder. Fox nodded, squeezing your hand once before reaching for the handlebar again. You clenched your teeth, letting out a shaky breath as you settled against Fox’s back. You wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but on a speeder hundreds of feet from solid ground.

You didn’t move your hand for a while, letting some of the tension melt off Fox’s shoulders first. His chin dipped down when you slowly started to rub him through his pants and your mouth watered when his breathing picked up. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you could make him cum like this. Fox’s back arched, hips jerked when you tightened your grip and the arousal simmering under your skin continued to intensify.

Then Fox suddenly jerked into a more upright position, slowing the speeder enough to exit the skylane and you released him, moving your hand to his hip again.

Descending into the lower levels made your stomach turn and you kept your head on a swivel as Fox landed the speeder. He seemed to almost slump with a harsh exhale and you tried to hide your laughter as you climbed off the bike. Fox lingered on the seat for a moment, twisting to hide the way he readjusted his pants before standing. He kept his back to you, hands clenching and unclenching at his side as you lifted your helmet off.

There was commotion somewhere behind you, an argument or something, but you kept your attention on Fox. He eventually reached up to lift the nondescript helmet off, setting it on the speeder’s seat but he still didn’t turn around. Fear welled up in your stomach and you immediately regretted the fleeting touches on the speeder as you took a step closer.

“Fox?” His shoulders lifted in an exaggerated exhale and then he was moving. Your breath hitched when he grabbed the front of your jacket, yanking you closer. Your head was spinning, eyes widening when you registered Fox’s lips on yours. It took a moment for your fight or flight instinct to settle but once it did, your eyes fluttered shut and you melted into the kiss.

Your lips parted for his tongue and Fox tasted faintly of caf, a bitter yet welcome taste. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering when his hands released your jacket, following the curve of your body before coming to rest on your hips. Breaking the kiss was harder than you anticipated but Fox stayed close, resting his forehead against yours.

“Where did that come from?” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath.

“Long overdue,” he huffed, slowly rubbing your sides.

“And what does it mean?” Fox chuckled under his breath, bumping his nose against yours, a disarmingly tender show of affection.

“It means, I’m not done with you, honey.”

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @cw80831 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @dickarchivist

#commander fox x reader #commander fox #commander fox fic #coruscant guard #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fic

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dross-the-fish · 3 months

Text

I found myself thinking of Jekyll today and wondering if it causes him physical pain to have to fake a smile. To what extent is Henry Jekyll, pleasant doctor and sophisticated upperclass gentleman a painful mask he has to wear and does the discomfort ever feel physical?

I was at the local aquarium today (this is the perfect time of year to go because it's open but there are no tourists so it's never crowded and admission is cheap) hanging out and doodling on one of the benches while I watched the fish. I had on headphones to listen to an audio book and to provide a buffer between myself and anyone who might try to talk to me and I had been looking forward to relaxing for a couple of hours when a family walked up and the father waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. The minute they started asking me questions about what I was drawing I was filled with what I can only describe as intense dismay.

Obviously the family being present isn't in of itself an issue, it's a public aquarium, it's aimed at families and parts of the aquarium are geared specifically at children, but the family noticed me drawing and stopped to talk to me.

I reiterate that this was not something they did wrong, they were just being friendly, but I was really not prepared to have a conversation and I found the whole ordeal to be...well an ordeal. They were interested in what I was drawing (a sketch of Henry Jekyll because he's been on my mind off and on) and just the thought of having to explain who this character was, hoping they got it, and having to potentially explain why I was drawing him felt overwhelming.

And it was, they did not know who Henry Jekyll was, they were vaguely aware of Jekyll and Hyde but weren't the type of people to read classic literature and had never heard of the musical or actually seen for themselves any movies featuring the character. The mom commented that he looks like "a Disney villain from back in the 90s" which...fair assessment, I can't pretend I don't see why she would have thought that. The older kid was probably the most interested and wanted to see more of my drawings which made me really uncomfortable but I let him look through my sketchbook anyway because his parents kept saying he was interested in drawing and he loves art and I felt too anxious to say no.

I made small talk with the parents for a while, all the usual, "what's your name, where you from, what's your job?" (I hate those questions, they are usually the least interesting things about any people, myself included) and I wondered if this is what Henry does on a regular day. Has ordinary conversations with reasonably nice people and feel completely like a fish out of water the whole time. I felt pretty terrible about it too, I didn't have any hard feelings or resentment but the whole time I was thinking "Stop touching my things, go away, please fucking leave so I can get back to my audio book and my drawing. I just wanted to sit with the fish for a few hours because it's supposed to be quiet here this time of year."

No one ever seems to catch on that physically talking to people is an effort for me. I've gone my whole life and no one has ever noticed that I'm anxious or uncomfortable in situations where I have to speak out loud because I've gotten good at faking small talk and I know how to make my voice sound pleasant.

It's strange because I express myself easily enough in writing and I like messaging with people over text but the minute I have to be verbal with people I don't know I feel like I'm putting on an immense effort. I have to consciously choose a tone, figure out what words I want to say, be ready with an explanation in case I'm asked questions and I have to do all of it in real time on the spot. It feels like improve, like I'm constantly doing an improve routine and I know most people would say "Just be yourself!" But myself doesn't want to be doing this at all. Myself wants to be drawing and looking at fish. Even as a child I was never very social, I liked to doodle or daydream or build with my lego sets. I got reprimanded a lot for being too quiet. So I made myself more talkative and learned how to hold conversations. I learned to blend in but it's so tiring at times and I can swear when it's at its worst it feels almost physical. The discomfort becomes a suffocating "texture" on my skin and in my brain and I have to keep pretending like I don't notice it because every time I try to articulate how I feel people don't understand it. It's just not a thing they experience.

So I just keep "acting normal," and wonder if there's something wrong with me, like I'm operating on a different frequency from the people around me and I'm the only one on that frequency so other people don't even know it exists. It's...incredibly isolating at times. Even my partner doesn't seem to hear the world as loud as I do or experience the "texture" it's just a strange THING that I'm stuck with by myself. I wonder if it was the same for Henry Jekyll? Except instead being of too quiet he was too loud, too boisterous, threw tantrums, didn't know when to stop rambling about anatomy and weird gross medical facts. So he learned how to cover it and move through life pretending to be interested in everyone else but keenly aware they could never share his interests because his favorite subjects were too grisly and if he started talking about diseases he'd put everyone off. I head-canon Jekyll loves what he does, but he doesn't love it for reasons a doctor should, he doesn't care that much about healing the sick, he cares about conquering illnesses, he likes to learn about symptoms, he enjoys the disgusting viscera of his work. But he can't let on that this is what he enjoys about his work because that's not noble or heroic, it's something most people would find creepy of him. So he buries it and pretends he cares about curing the sick. He pretends he enjoys talking to people who don't know anything about who he is or what he does but they think they do because they are aware of doctors and understand that medicine exists. All the time he loathes it, it exhausts him and he can't even indulge in activities he enjoys to blow of steam because he enjoys things like brawling, doing drugs, and fucking. All things a man of his status shouldn't be seen doing. There's an image people associate with Henry Jekyll and it's an image he can't afford to tarnish...

but it's not really HIS image, it's just a buffer he keeps up to make himself more palatable. I wonder if that ever hurts him physically, if the mask ever feels like a "texture" muffling him.

there are times when I feel like it's no wonder he wasn't repulsed by Hyde when he first saw his reflection. Because I can only imagine by the time Hyde showed up he was already completely burnt out on being Jekyll.

#kind of a vent #kind of headcanon talk #jekyll and Hyde ponderings

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distantlaughter · 4 months

Text

Formel Vorne

Originally published June 2022 by Sven Michaelsen for DB MOBIL (x)

Always close to the racing line: this is how Nico Rosberg became Formula 1 world champion. But what does it take to lead start-ups to the top in Germany? In the cover interview with DB MOBIL, the tech investor talks about his flair for perfect green ideas, his speed-reading course and how he is trying to beat his cell phone addiction by making music.

The man seems impressively experienced in the media. When Nico Rosberg sees the first pictures taken by the photographer at the 25hours Hotel in Cologne, he asks: "Could I get more light from below?" At the beginning of the subsequent cover interview, the former Formula 1 professional wants to know: "How have you perceived me in the last hour?" Anyone in the public eye does a lot of Hollywood, says the 36-year-old, who will open the Greentech Festival, which he co-founded, in Berlin on June 22. New ideas for a sustainable lifestyle will be presented there. Nico Rosberg believes that image is work: "And I've always taken it very, very seriously."

Mr. Rosberg, you became Formula 1 world champion for the first time in 2016. Five days later, you announced your retirement from racing, much to everyone's astonishment. What was going through your mind?

I had meditated a lot and worked with a psychologist. At the start of the last race, I knew that if I didn't make any mistakes, I would be world champion. When I crossed the start line, I thought: Nico, this could be your last race ever, try to enjoy it a little. That gave me the calm I needed to win. When I crossed the finish line, I knew it was over! That's it for you and Formula 1.

Wife, parents, team boss: Who did you tell your decision to first?

In the evening, there was a party where we celebrated at full throttle. The morning after, my wife and I woke up totally hungover. In my bathrobe, I said to her: "By the way, I've decided to quit." It was a total surprise for her.

Did she react with enthusiasm or dismay?

She was completely neutral. On the one hand, she had been an enthusiastic supporter of my career, but on the other hand, she saw first-hand how racing had taken over me to such an extent that I often seemed absent at home. Her only comment was: "Follow your instinct."

Your father Keke Rosberg was Formula 1 world champion in 1982. How did he find out about your decision?

After I announced my departure, I wrote a WhatsApp message to my mother: "Mom, you never have to worry about me again. That was my last race. Please tell dad." If I had told my dad in advance, he would have said: "What are you doing? This is a huge mistake! You're giving up the top spot in Formula 1 without needing to and giving up 100 million euros in revenue over the next few years. That's stupid."

Did he make a scene for you?

No, but he was shocked and didn't understand at all at first. He was my biggest fan and was already looking forward to the next racing season. I then explained to him that I had reached my goal in life and was no longer prepared to give 110 percent every day for racing. That was a very nice moment.

What career options did you have?

None at all. We had our little daughter, and a few weeks after I left, my wife got pregnant again. It was clear that I didn't want to live off my savings in the long term and that my next job should be less ego-driven. In Formula 1, everything revolves around you. This extreme self-centeredness had made me unhappy and led to a disbalance within me. I wanted to become more positive and self-confident. For this reason, I made a promise to myself: In your next life, don't focus on your ego, but on dedicating yourself to projects that help others.

You are investing in sustainability and green mobility today. How many people work for you?

There are almost 20 of them, some of which are involved in investments in green start-ups, others in our annual Greentech Festival, where we bring together the most innovative minds. Then there are our partnerships with companies that are driving forward electromobility.

How many companies have you invested money in?

About 20, with another 100 through investments in funds.

How many start-ups are pipe failures?

50 out of 100. 30 float along so-so, 10 are better off, 10 become really successful.

Your biggest scoop?

Our early investment in the e-scooter company "TIER".

Your most spectacular failure?

A financial services provider in Sweden. Our money was gone.

How high is the proportion of women among founders?

Under 20 percent. The entire tech scene is still a male domain. We can only hope that this will change very quickly.

A founder wants money from you: Do you look at the person or their idea?

First of all, I look at the person: are they driven by an intrinsic passion or is someone just trying to make as much money as possible in as short a time as possible? I need to sense passion in a founder and an incredible fighting spirit, which I recognize immediately because of my past as a professional sportsman. You can modify ideas, but not people.

Two years ago, you predicted in an interview: "The first commercial flights with air cabs will take place in 2022."

It will probably take a few more years after all. We have invested in the German air cab companies Lilium and Volocopter. Commercial flights are due to start in 2025. I predict that a decade later there will be a kind of Netflix for mobility. For a monthly flat rate, you will be provided with all the means of transportation you need to travel within Europe: E-scooter, self-driving cab, hydrogen-powered air cab that lands on the roof of your train station, high-speed train.

CEOs today are supposed to be moderate, approachable, inclusive and politically correct. Successful people like Mark Zuckerberg or Jeff Bezos, on the other hand, are polarizing and egocentric. How do you explain this contradiction?

Many former employees of Elon Musk complain that it is a horror to work for him. I assume he has people on his management team who balance out his stubbornness and ensure empathy. Otherwise, every company will blow up in your face at some point. It is probably extremely rare for visionary founders to also be nice team players. Being uncompromising is part of every great career.

The controversial, billionaire investor Peter Thiel writes in his book "Zero To One": "Of the six men who founded PayPal, four made bombs as schoolboys." Do founders have to be out of the ordinary, have to have a chip on their shoulder?

Genius founders are extreme characters. They focus their lives on implementing their ideas with extreme dedication and tenacity. With some of them, you might think that their successes are revenge on the people who humiliated them in their youth. Toto Wolff, my team boss at Mercedes, said that every great success is compensation for a painful childhood trauma. The appreciation you didn't get as a child is supposed to bring you success in your career.

Peter Thiel asks people who apply to him: "Which of your beliefs would few people share with you?" How would you answer him?

I would so fail this question. Six years ago, I would have come up with an answer: Electromobility. I'm an investor and shareholder in Formula E. When my father heard about it, he said: "You're completely crazy!" He now sets his alarm clock for every race. But wait, I just thought of an answer to Thiel's question: I'm convinced that a psychologist can help each of us enormously in becoming more successful, happier and a better relationship partner. During my time in Formula 1, I worked with a qualified psychologist for two hours every other day. That was more intense than any driver training course.

What did the man do to you?

He helped me to understand myself better: Why am I nervous? Why am I afraid? Why am I jealous when my wife looks after another man without any deeper intention? When it comes to our emotions, we are all so in the dark. They guide our behavior without us understanding how and why. With the help of a mental coach, you can control your reactions much better because you learn to react rationally instead of emotionally. This triggers a snowball effect that changes your whole life for the better. In addition, the psychologist taught me to proactively train my brain with meditation, visualization and repetition.

An example, please.

If I visit a person 100 days in a row and tell them they are an idiot every time, they will eventually believe me at least a little. We often do the same with ourselves. We make the same assumptions about ourselves over and over again until we end up mistakenly believing them to be facts. If I visualize this mechanism again and again in meditation, I can break through it and achieve a more positive self-image.

You also had a coach for speed reading.

Because I don't read enough, I wanted to learn to read faster. Bill Gates reads 100 pages per hour thanks to a coach. A simple trick is to follow along with your finger while reading. This helps the eye to recognize the words and increases reading speed.

A world-famous father, a childhood in the decadent, affluent paradise of Monaco: you could just as easily have become a spoiled good-for-nothing with a drug problem.

I don't believe that children from wealthy families need to have a problem with their ambition. My best friends in Monaco grew up with money. One of them now manages 300 million euros, the other two are among the luminaries of their profession as a lawyer and dentist. All three decided early on that they didn't want to live off their parents' money. Their incentive was to achieve something similar. I was ambitious and thrifty from an early age and never thought about my parents' money. I wanted to do my own thing.

You are bringing up two daughters, aged four and six. Can children's ambition be fueled, or is ambition a kind of natural destiny, as natural as a birthmark?

I think 70 percent is genetics, 30 percent can be influenced by the parents. For me, this 30 percent is the biggest challenge there is in the world. My wife and I attend parenting seminars to develop our parenting skills. Of course we want to encourage our children's motivation, but above all we want them to be happy.

What about your gift for happiness?

My mother is naturally happy and motivated. I find that more difficult. Without rationality and discipline, for example, I would look at my cell phone for twelve hours a day and be knocked out after two days. I have to manage my life with a lot of energy and thought. Otherwise I would make myself and others unhappy.

What are you like when you lose?

My nature makes it extremely difficult for me to lose. When I played tennis against my father when I was young, I left the court crying almost every time. I cried when I lost and I cried when I won because I thought he had let me win. We didn't speak to each other again until the next day. This extreme in me was really bad. In Formula 1, my psychologist then taught me that defeats don't just hurt, but are an opportunity to grow.

What can we learn from you?

Dedication, persistence, not letting go. I recently wanted to meet Richard Branson - which is not easy. I wrote to his secretary, called her and had a friend write an email recommending him. And so it went on and on until I finally got the acceptance.

Have you had any Formula 1 freak-outs like tennis stars hitting the umpire's chair with their rackets?

I'm not the impulsive type. I tend to be very thoughtful, sometimes too much so. I've never shouted at anyone in my life. I'm practising this with my children because they seem to expect it from me. But it's not my nature. I have to force myself to do it.

How do you teach your children ecological awareness?

There is a series of children's books with stories about famous people who are committed to nature. Last night I read the book about Greta Thunberg at home. We also explain why we drive an electric car and try to avoid plastic.

What have you learned from your children?

I bought myself a guitalele, a miniature guitar, so that I don't have to reach for my smartphone every free second. It's in my hotel room. It was my children who inspired me to play an instrument. I'm fascinated by how motivated they are to learn new things. Then I think: Nico, you've become so lazy! Because I'm ambitious, I'm even taking guitar lessons now. I want to become good.

Charlie Chaplin said about the Christmases of his childhood: "I only got one orange - in good years." How do you deal with the lack of scarcity when raising your children?

My wife and I try to exemplify certain values because mere theory is not convincing for children. When we return from an expensive family vacation, I say: "Be careful in your stories not to hurt anyone who can't afford this kind of vacation." Only at Christmas do we break the dams. That's when we overdo it with presents. You can't do everything pedagogically right. And who should stop grandma and grandpa from giving presents?

#nico rosberg #nicology

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reqxxyt · 11 months

Text

mission

pairings: oscar p. x f!reader

summary: mission: make oscar piastri your friend

warning: ngl reader is kind of annoying-

masterlist requests are open!

[uedited] 1.9k

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Oscar is coming in today, try to make him feel welcome?” the text sent in by one of your coworkers read. You felt excitement run through you over the news of the driver coming in for the first time before the season would start. You were media manager of the two drivers, ensuring that everything between the two were good in terms and everything that the public sees was appropriate.

You were practically friends with the entire crew, Lando being the closest to you. It was always the easiest to make friends with someone, and you planned to be friends with the upcoming driver just like you did with the rest of the crew. So you ensured you looked your best today, putting on a bright smile as you walked past everyone.

“Met Oscar yet?” Lando came up to you, walking beside you now as you two entered the media room.

“Nope, supposed to introduce myself later after hes gotten the tour” you explained seeing Lando frown a bit, “whats up?”

“Hes a bit quiet so don’t make him feel too overwhelmed. I know how far you can go to make someone your friend” he said reminding you on how past workers just wanted you to stay 20 feet from them and no less. It hurt your feelings but you understood that not everyone wanted to be your friend and let them be themselves still exchanging a simple smile.

“Maybe you just don’t know how to make friends like I do” you confidently stated while Lando gave you a blank stare, not amused at all already thinking about the different ways you'll try to get the driver to be your friend.

“And this is the media room” one of the workers announced and you immediately turned your head to see Oscar trying to stand as confident as possible. The two walked up to you and you shined your infamous welcoming smile, “This is y/n, i’ll leave you to her. I’m sure you’ll like her”

Oscar just gave you a nod of acknowledgment with a small smile, a bit shy but you could work with that. Just need a little crack of the shell.

“Hello newbie” you said, you could tell Oscar was already cringing at the nickname as he raised an eyebrow and you began to cringe at yourself apoligizing, “Terrible start, i’m y/n your media manager. So I basically deal with anything that goes out to the public so please don’t give me too much of a headache because thats landos job”

He chuckled at that. Great start, you thought to yourself.

“How was your last media manager because i'll make sure to treat you 10 times better” you confidently said with a proud smile as you started walking around the building with him following still getting the general premise of the layout.

“I never got much of a chance to talk to her, mostly kept to herself” he said, crossign his arms in front of his chest. You thought about how sad that was, not knowing who your drivers were that you wouldn’t have been able to talk to them. You two neared the patio as you said with a delighted voice,

“Well i’ll make sure to talk to you” his nervous presence didn’t go unnoticed by you. You just needed to crack his shell is all, you keep telling yourself.

The next day you greeted him and he only smiled at you. Nothing wrong with that, people are tired in the mornings. You called the two drivers in later that day to discuss how to out the news of Oscars arrival and while you made (amazing in your opinion) jokes, Lando would be the one to respond to them while Oscar stayed quiet nearly the entire meeting.

Okay we all have our off days.

But it would routinely be the same. Some days you wouldn’t even spot him or get a chance to talk to him.

“I don’t think he likes me” you slumped into Landos bed as he was playing on his computer, listening to your rant for the past hour as a background noise.

“Not everyone wants to be your friend, y/n” he reminded you and you only groaned against the pillows muffling your sounds at the reminder.

“I know that but” you paused, thinking about it for a moment “he barely even acknowledges me anymore. Its somehow gotten worse” you slumped to yourself trying to think of a possible (good enough) reason as to why he mightve changed.

“Just give him space-”

“I have a plan” you interrupted him making Lando sigh tiredly, now being the one to lose his patience. “Mission: Make Oscar my friend” you grabbed a random piece of sticky note paper and began scrambling for ideas.

Step 1: be generous

Easy enough, you thought. Who doesn’t like cookies? You’ll just make cookies and offer them to him. You spent the entire night making cookies for the entire crew so it wouldn’t look too suspicious, put them into pretty bags and offer them to people as they enter.

“Trying to get someone to be your friend?” oen of the coworkers passed as you handed them a bag, you gave them furrowed eyebrows. He only laughed, explaining “you always do this when you're trying to make a friend”

You thought about it, cursing to yourself remembering this was how you got the photographer to be your friend last time. Thinking too much, Oscar had passed you without saying anything. You caught up to him with a bag in your hand. Oscar didn’t seem too surprised, growing used to your bursts of greeting.

“I made cookies for the team, here” You handed it to him, and with a hesitant look he took them in your hand whispering a small thank you before walking at a faster rate hoping you would get the message. You did, but you refused to accept it as you began to increase your pace with him.

Step 2: ask about their day

“How was your day?” your joyful voice made him stiffen.

“It's been well” he responded in a quick manner, he wondered why you were still following him as he thought you would have much more important things to do instead of trying to connect with him. You did but its not like you finish your work on time on the regular anyways.

“That's great-”

“y/n, need you to look at these” someone behind called out and you hesitated before sighing to yourself and waving with a simple smile before leaving, leaving Oscar to finally be able to breathe and settle down his rapid heart.

“Didn’t work too well?” Lando asked, sitting down on the couch of the media room as the photographer began to show you the pictures.

“No, something is wrong with me” Your hands ran through your hair as if you had really lost your spark in people. “He seems to be enjoying everyone else but me”

“That's because you're simply too much” he displayed his cheeky grin making you playfully hit him before you started examining the pictures.

“You want to come with us for a photoshoot?” the photographer asked you and you eagerly nodded thinking this would be perfect chance to talk to Oscar more.

Step 3: be an assistant. Practically help him with anything and everything he may need. Does he need water? You will personally go on a hunt to find the nearest water. Food? Give him yours, don’t feed it to him though. That’s weird. Jacket because it gets too cold? Fine, you’ll give him yours.

“Stop acting so weird” Lando judged you as you practically jumped out of the car since he offered you a ride to the place. “And try to” he paused pretending to think before finishing “not be yourself so much”

You shook your head as he laughed to himself feeling a little too proud of his joke. You spotted the photographer and Oscar chatting, he seemed more comfortable with her and you sighed to yourself before running up to them with a bright smile. Oscar immediately stopped talking, backing up a bit causing you to feel conscious of your aura.

Lando gives you a look and your smile falters a bit to a much smaller one before facing back to the photographer, “when are you getting started?” you asked.

“In a little, just need to get my bag. Be back” she leaves, being followed by Lando not too long after. Your eyes narrowed, now a bit confused as to why the two had to walk off considering it was just a bag until realization hit you.

“Oh, they are so together” your smile beamed covering your mouth, heart picking up already being so happy for them. You faced Oscar who looked like he couldn’t care less, but seeing your smile made the corner of his lips curve up a bit “You know what this means?”

“The press are going to have a field day with the news?” he guessed and you only nodded suddenly your smile dropping, realizing you may have gotten too excited, going back on your heels to contain yourself from jumping around.

“Shh don’t mention anything” you couldn’t help the smile though, as you giggled to yourself. It got quiet as you broke the silence facing him suddenly a bit nervous, “Hey, Piastri?”

He hummed, allowing you to continue a bit interested as to your quiet demeener.

“How come you don’t like me?” you were a bit embarrassed to ask, seeing as you’ve never questioned someone so much. Usually leaving them alone after a while, so why was he different?

“Who said I didn’t like you?” his eyebrows furrowed at you, somehow gathering enough courage to look at you properly for the first time, you now being the one to be looking down. The question brought your head up though, a bit surprised. You thought it was obvious.

“You talk to practically everyone but me” your voice got quieter, something that rarely ever happens.

“I’m talking to you now” he commented on and you only rolled your eyes,

“Thats because I initiated the conversation” you couldn’t help the frustrated voice being let out.

“Well, you're different. In a good way at least” you could tell he was getting nervous, some pink lingering on his cheeks and whether that was caused by you or the sun you didn’t want to know in the moment. His smile largened by just an inch but you weren’t one to not notice, “You want to be my friend so badly?”

You nodded eagerly earning a small chuckle from him. Why did your heart leap at the sound?

“Let me do it my way” he picked up one of your hands. “Allow me to take you out to a quiet place somewhere and I promise you’ll learn about me by the end of the night”

His suggestion made your heart flip, a weird heat rush going to your cheeks as you realized his suggestion, tilting your head asking “like a date?”

The official term made Oscars cheeks now a bit more rosy, but you found it to be adorable. “If you agree to it” was all he said.

You thought about it for a minute, allowing a small “sure, why not” shrugging with a small smile hiding your large one.

After only about a month, he asked you out officially and you had finally succeeded in your mission.

You got Oscar Piastri to be your (boy)friend.

#oscar piastri #f1 #f1 x you #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #reader insert #formula 1 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #fluff

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

warning : mentions of smut and cursing

sypnosis : can harrington resist his best friends younger sister?

steve harrington x bestfriends!sister!y/n

"Why do you need me to pick her up?" Steve sighed into the phone as his best friend tells him he needs him to pick up his younger sister from the high school.

"But she's a senior, she should be driving already." He annoyingly said.

He hadn't seen you in five years due to you living in another state for most of your life but he knew you from when you guys were kids.

You were a year younger and were practically a baby.

He remembered you being a complete brat and always pulling on his hair.

Why did he always have to be the babysitter?

And he was mad that his best friend couldn't pick his own sister up and he was left with the job of doing it.

It was only his one day off.

"Fine, fine." Steve said, hanging up and going outside of his humble abode to get to the high school.

As he drove, he couldn't stop mentally cursing his friend and his entire being.

'Always the babysitter!' He thought, driving up to the school entrance.

He was waiting for you about ten minutes after the school got it. He was visibly and mentally annoyed that he hadn't spotted you yet.

But then he did,

You were wearing the prettiest flower dress that had lilac flowers all detailed into every crevice. The dress made your curves more noticeable. Even he had to admit that you were fucking beautiful.

You were the hottest thing he had seen for a long while, so innocent.

You had definitely grown and weren’t a little girl anymore.

He was stepped out of his thoughts once you spotted him and quickly said a goodbye to your friends.

You were smiling so brightly near him that he couldn't believe the sight he was seeing.

No, you were probably gonna be a brat and still annoying. Personality doesn't tend to change through all that time even though his did.

He heard a knock on his window to see you smiling and waving for him to unlock the door.

He quickly unlocked the door in pure embarrassment as you sat in the passenger seat, lightly putting your backpack in the front of you.

"Hey Steve." You sweetly said.

You saying his name was music to his ears.

"Hey." He said swiftly, clearly nervous in the back of his voice.

You looked at him, "Thank you for picking me up, I really appreciate it." You smiled lightly.

"Ha no problem, just here to help." He smiled back as you put on your seatbelt.

He couldn’t help but notice your plush thighs squeezing together as you sat down.

He didn’t want to objectify you as he looked back down into his lap.

He started the car, "How have you been?" You asked, starting a conversation.

"Good good, still working at the video store. Taking a gap year just to relax and relish in Hawkins." He tapped on the wheel nervously.

"That's cool." You nodded, "It's good to relax after all those years of highschool."

"Yeah." He said then noticing it was rude, "W-What about you?" He asked, looking at you quickly then back to the road.

"Trying to figure out what college to go to. I mean I have a few ideas but just trying to enjoy the year.” You explained.

You spoke so lightly and calmly that he couldn’t help but admire you fully.

“Yeah, you just have to be careful about relaitionships, long distance is hard.” He said, trying to see your reaction through his peripheral vision.

He just wanted to know.

“Oh, I am not too worried about that. I promised myself no boyfriends until I get my life together.” You said.

He mentally cheered, “Good good.”

You guys finally hit your destination as he stopped the car. You smiled, “Thanks for the ride Steve.”

“No problem Y/N.” He grinned as you opened the door and got out of the car.

He could see your dress hiking up, almost seeing your ass which made him stiffen in his pants.

You grabbed your backpack as you muttered another thank you and closed the passenger door.

He watched you until you had went inside. He couldn’t believe how beautiful his best friends younger sister was.

You were unlike anything he had seen.

So sweet, so innocent.

You reeked of it and he couldn’t escape it even if he moved miles.

No.

These thoughts are wrong, he is supposed to be the adult even if you are eighteen.

This was a one time thing and nothing like this would ever happen again.

Well that’s what he thought.

Steve was in the middle of spending another day off of work when he heard the phone ring. It was his best friend again asking him to pick you up.

He wasn’t that mad about it.

In fact, he could feel a tingling sensation in his pants.

But then he asked for a bigger favor.

For you to stay the night.

He wasn’t able to make it back home since he has to commute each day and he had asked Steve to let his sister sleep over at his house.

Your parents didn’t want you to stay home alone and preferred if there was someone with you to make sure everything was okay.

He reluctantly agreed.

He knew this was the biggest mistake he would ever make because he could hardly resist you as it was.

Time felt as if it was flying as he was already in front of the school.

You were laughing with some basketball guys and cheerleaders. He wanted you to stay away from those type of people, you weren’t like them.

You were wearing the prettiest skirt with a tank top. Why did you always have to be so goddamn beautiful?

You spotted him almost immediately, rushing over to him.

You opened the door, “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting, I just saw you.” You frowned, looking at him.

‘So fucking cute.’ He thought.

“It’s really no problem, I just got here.” He gave a sincere smile as you returned it.

You stepped inside as he started the car, putting your backpack in the front of you.

He started driving as you peered out the window, watching the trees.

“Uh how was school?” He asked awkwardly.

He wanted to punch himself.

You didn’t seem to notice it, “It was okay, I got a lot of assignments done so it should be a stress free night.” You fiddled with your fingers.

“Glad to hear.” He replied.

“I’m sorry that I have to stay with you. I told my brother that it would be intrusive and I told him I could try to find someone else but he didn’t trust anyone else with all the stuff that goes on in Hawkins.” You explained, “I promise I won’t be a bother.”

Steve was surprised.

He wished he could tell you how happy he was to be spending an entire night with you and how he would love for you to be at his house.

But he couldn’t.

“I really don’t mind, it gets lonely anyways and you don’t seem like you would steal anything so believe me, I am totally okay with it.” He replied.

You giggled, “Thank you again for like everything.”

“You really don’t have to say thank you, I’m happy to do this.” He said.

��I just want you to know how appreciate I am because my parents are on a trip and you have been a huge help.” You said.

“It’s really no problem.” He said, shrugging it off, “Just happy to help.”

You nodded lightly and continued looking out the window until you approached Steve’s apartment.

He stopped the engine as you both exited the car. You walked in front of him, giving him a full face of your panties.

White lace.

He definitely couldn’t help the shift in his pants there. You allowed him to walk in front when you approached the elevator.

You both sat there in silence, listening to the music in the elevator. You followed his lead as you approached the door to his apartment and went inside.

He could tell there was a certain glint in your eyes as you looked around.

He ran his hand through his hair, “There isn’t a lot to do-“ He started.

“Can we watch a movie?“ You asked, “Unless there is something else you need to do.” You smiled, moving towards the couch.

“No no, I mean of course we can.” Steve nervously said.

You giggled a little, “Rad.”

You sat down on the couch as you let Steve personally choose which movie for you too to watch.

He chose some classic movie that basically copies Back To The Future.

He sat next to you but far enough to not look suspicious. You just laid a little with your feet inwards so you weren’t kicking him.

He could definitely see your panties but tried his best to focus on the movie. It was getting harder and harder each minute to focus.

“Actually,” He stood as you looked up at him, “I’m gonna hit the hay, it’s been a long night.”

You sat up, “Oh, I’ll go to, I didn’t consider how late it was.” You grabbed the remote to turn off the movie.

He mentally cursed you for daring to do this.

“Yeah Yeah, okay.” Was all he could say due to how you were making him feel.

You went towards him, “I didn’t bring any pajamas as well so is there a chance I could borrow a shirt? Last minute.” You said.

You in his shirt.

He could fucking relish it already.

He muttered a sure no problem before you both headed over to the guest room in the very spacious condo.

“This is your room, I’ll get you that shirt.” He said before zooming off to choose a shirt. He sprayed some cologne on the striped shirt just so it smelled like him.

He went back to see you sitting on the bed, looking off into space.

He coughed as you looked up at him and he handed you the shirt, “Hope this will do.”

“It does, thank you.” You gave him a slight grin.

He looked at you for a few seconds, admiring you, before saying, “I-I’m right down the hall if you need anything and the bathroom is right next to my room.”

“Okay thanks.” You said, waiting for him to exit the room so you could change.

He exited quickly after that, not wanting to invade your privacy any longer.

He changed into some boxers, getting ready to sleep. He drifted off to sleep quite quickly, not realizing how tired he was in the first.

About what felt like hours into his sleep, he heard someone saying his name, a sweet whisper.

He opened his eyes to see you in front of him with only his shirt and panties on. You were shivering practically.

He then heard the thunder crackling outside suddenly, shocking him. You were visibly uncomfortable by the thunder before he looked back at you.

“I really hate thunder, can I sleep next to you?” The question sounded like music to his ears. You looked as if you were the brink of tears, “I know it might seem inappropriate but I always do this with my parents.”

Steve looked at you as if he was making the most vital decision of his life, “Yeah of course.” He ran his hand through his hair, flipping up the blanket.

You tried not to invade Steve’s space. You were shivering more than you ever could.

Your teeth were chittering, “S-Steve.” You whispered.

“Mhm?” He hummed.

“Can you cuddle me?” You asked shyly, “I am really cold.” His eyes widened at this.

“Y/N, I really don’t-“

“Please.” You sounded like you were about to cry.

Steve was hesitant, “Yeah okay.” He slowly wrapped your body with his.

He tried not to grind up against you or do anything out of the ordinary although this was far from that.

“T-Thank you.” You cuddled more up into him.

He felt as if he was committing an act of sin due to the feeling he got from all of this.

His pants felt tight and he didn’t want you to feel anything that you could tell his best friend AKA your brother.

Suddenly you turned around to face him, looking into his eyes. His heart stopped entirely there as you looked at his lips then to his eyes.

His hand was on your waist as you reached closer to him, kissing him.

He held onto your waist tighter, reciprocating the kiss. You moaned into his mouth as you gripped on his hair and he let you.

His other hand on your head, deepening the kiss.

No, this is wrong.

He suddenly got up quickly and covered his bulge, “Y/N, this isn’t right.” He said quickly.

You looked at him with a comforting smile, “It’s okay Steve, I am an adult-“ You convinced, sitting up.

His face turned stern, “No, this is really fucking inappropriate and I am not taking it this far with you. Go back to your room and we can talk about this in the morning.”

“Steve seriously, we don’t have to tell my brother-“ You tried.

“Y/N, I am very fucking serious, get the fuck out!” He yelled at you which caused you to tear up.

You stood up quickly, tears streaming down your face as you exited to the guest room.

Steve held his index finger and his thumb to his temples. It’s not that he didn’t want to be with you but it wouldn’t be right. You are still in high school and you haven’t dealt with the real world yet.

He didn’t want to be a dick to you and seeing you tear up broke his heart entirely.

But he knew this was right.

Or was he entirely wrong?

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carolmunson · 2 years

Text

smoke signals (steddie x reader)

prompt was along the lines of ‘reader wants to go out with the girls, but the boys say no so she can get her sleep schedule back on track and she sneaks out anyway. definitely gets caught. everything is bad.’

This is a Mean!Eddie focus fic. Part of me isn’t sure how I feel about this one shot, but I think it’s because I’ve been reading and re-reading it for the past month. Steve does his best to hold back as this takes place AFTER Good Cop x Bad Cop. warnings as follows: minors dni 18+, d/s lifestyle dynamics, use of sir in a sexual way, use of daddy in a sexual way, fingering (female receiving), oral (female and male receiving), spanking, branding/burning, back handing, slapping, hair pulling, degradation, humiliation, name calling

“You said yes, yesterday!”

“I know I did, but look, you’re practically falling asleep watching TV!”

You and Eddie had been arguing for ten minutes. You told Nancy and Robin you’d go out with them tonight, it’d been some time since all the girls had a night to themselves. While you didn’t necessarily have to, you asked the boys if it was okay just in case they had any plans. Maybe it was because Robin couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was for it at work, but Steve was quick to say yes. Eddie, on the other hand, stiffened when you asked. Normally he’s always saying yes to a good party and inviting himself, you were surprised at his resistance. He had blamed his lack of enthusiasm on how late you’d been staying up and how early you’d been going into work. Ever since the promotion, you barely took time for yourself. You’d stroll in at eight at night after getting to the office at six in the morning for board meeting preps and taking down minutes, filling out payroll paperwork. The job was endless. Now that things were calming down a little, Eddie thought it would be better if you spent the weekend getting back on a regular sleep schedule. You’d probably be a little nicer after developing ‘the world’s worst fuckin’ attitude’, according to him.

“Going out and having a good time is a part of resting, Ed! I’m not gonna be up late doing work, I’m going out late to have fun,” you explained from your cozied up spot on the couch, “It’s different.”

“I don’t know, honey, maybe he’s right. You might just need a night in, you can go out tomorrow,” Steve said from his arm chair with a beer in hand, looking at the TV.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! You said I deserved to enjoy myself after this week! Plus, Robin closes tomorrow,” you shrilled, now fully sitting up. Your fuse was getting shorter by the minute – now you were genuinely annoyed.

“See, look at all this attitude, sweet thing,” Eddie cooed, “You should just stay in and get some sleep.” That fucking voice. His little lilt where he made you feel small and stupid, it drove you crazy (in the bad way).

“You just want me to stay in so you can have sex tonight,” you accused under your breath, laying back down and turning on your side towards the TV.

Eddie shrugged, “So? Sue me. Scoot over.” He tapped your calf, waiting for you to pull your knees to your chest so he could sit down. You glared up at him with a bratty pout, your hands covered in a blanket under your chin. “There’s another chair you can sit in on the other side of the room,” you huffed, casting your eyes over the the empty recliner in the corner. “Hey,” Steve’s voice was stern as turned his head to look at you, “Is that how you act when you don’t get what you want?” You rolled your eyes, moving your legs up just enough that Eddie could sit on the edge of the couch up against the arm. He tutted and crossed his arms, tossing a look over to Steve. “You wanna be over my knee, instead?” he warned, starting to get up from the chair. “No, no,” you squeaked out, pulling your legs all the way up to your chest while Eddie plopped down. Steve sat back in the recliner, bringing his eyes back to the TV. “You’re not going out tonight,” he said, “Not with that attitude.” “You don’t really get to say what I’m allowed and not allowed to do, Steve,” you said, sitting up and criss-crossing your legs under your blanket. Steve exhaled and shook his head, Eddie turned his head to you with knitted brows. “That’s enough. C’mere,” Eddie growled, pulling you by the arm over his lap. He tossed the blanket covering you to the floor, tugging your sweatpants down to your thighs. Revving up his hand to come down hard on your ass. “No, wait!” you whined, kicking your legs, squirming in his grasp, “No, please, I’ll stop. I won’t go, I’m sorry.” His hand skitters over your skin, giving one cheek a firm grab before pulling your pants back up, “Go give Nancy and Robin a call and let them know you’re not coming, okay?” You nodded, albeit a little glumly, and went upstairs to use the phone in the boys room. “This is ‘cause you’re not spanking her enough anymore,” you heard Eddie say to Steve, “She’s all out of line now. You should’ve dealt with your shit before you went and ruined it for all of us.” “Shut up, Munson,” Steve said, “Before I put you in line.” “I wish you’d put me in line, Stevie,” Ed flirted back. You rolled your eyes at their banter, getting to the top of the stairs and turning the corner into their room. You shut the door behind you and sat at the desk, picking up the phone – except you didn’t dial Nancy or Robin. You had no intentions of calling at all. You were going out tonight – fuck whatever they had to say. — You asked Nancy to drop you a few houses down so that the boys wouldn’t hear the car door shut, hiding under the guise of ‘They’re probably sleeping, I don’t wanna wake them up.’ Your heart raced while you approached the house, but at least all the lights were off. That had to mean your high school trick of hiding pillows under a blanket was enough to convince them that you’d fallen asleep on the couch in the second bedroom where the boys hung out. Right? Right? You were a little wobbly on your feet from dancing and kareoke, but the two drinks you had wore off a while ago. You reeked of bar air and cigarettes, but a shower could fix that and since you do the laundry anyway the boys would be none the wiser. You slowly unlocked the door, the click of the lock sounding much louder than you anticipated. You winced, tip-toeing into the dark hall way and shutting the door behind you. Sleepiness coated your body once you made it inside, sliding your shoes off next to Steve’s Nikes. Good, good, it was just take a shower, replace the pillows on the couch with yourself, go to bed. Done. You hung your jacket on the coat rack and got up the first couple of steps upstairs, and then you heard it – “You don’t wanna join us in the living room?” Eddie’s voice was dark and stern, coming from across the hall way. You could see him and Steve’s sillouhettes on the couch in the dark. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you thought – but you hadn’t thought it, you said it outloud. Even worse, you whined it. Your blood ran cold. You heard Eddie get up, his steps slow and deliberate. You could have just run up the stairs and locked yourself in the bathroom but you couldn’t will yourself to move. Eddie was behind you, his hand around your elbow. His voice was low and gravelly in your ear, “Such a dirty fucking mouth.” “I’m sorry, sir,” your voice was breathless, you were already sweating, “I didn’t mean to say it out loud.” “Shouldn’t think it either,” he said, “But it looks like thinking’s been a little hard for you these days. Sneaking out of the fuckin’ house? Are you stupid?” “No, no, I just wanted to have fun,” you whined. He pulled on your arm to get you down the stairs, stopping to fish through your coat pocket on the way. He found what he was looking for quickly, nodding to himself. “Of course,” he said, a pack of his Camels appearing out of your coat, “So fucking predictable.” “I’m sorry,” your voice was just a choked rasp. You were desperate not to cry. You didn’t dare look at Steve who had turned the side table lamps on in the living room. Now sitting, man spread, on the right side of the couch, head perched on his finger tips on the arm of it. Eddie pulled you in, stopping at the entry way by the credenza, working quickly on your jeans. “Hanging out at The Hideout tonight?” he asked, as he kept undressing you, “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You shook your head no, whimpering. He pulled his cuffs out of his back pocket and you huffed at the sight of them. “I don’t–” the look he gave you shut you up before you even bothered protesting futher. You heard them click into place with your writsts behind you. “You got a lot of nerve, kid,” he muttered, “You smell like a fucking bar floor. C’mon.”

He tossed the box of Camels on the side table, taking a seat on the couch in the center cushion. His legs spread wide. He supported your balance while you kneeled between his knees on the carpet. You hung your head, this was beyond your regular trouble. You swore, you snuck out, and even worse, you lied. Eddie hates a liar. “I’m so disappointed in you, princess,” Steve’s voice was like honey, but the sentiment burned. Tears welled up in your eyes, “Smoking Ed’s cigarettes, too? You know that’s not good for you, baby.” “M’sorry, Stevie, I’m sor–ow!” you yelped as Eddie’s hand gripped roughly at your chin. He rarely handled you like this, you could feel his anger buzzing off of him – he was wild. You looked up at him, hoping that if you rounded your eyes just enough he’d let you off a little easier.

“I’m tired, Eddie, please,” you whimpered, “Can we do this tomorrow? I wanna go to bed.”

“Oh, you’re tired now? Do you think you’d still be tired if you stayed home tonight?” he asked, his grip tightening on your cheeks, getting nose to nose with you.

“I was right, wasn’t I, baby? You needed a night in,” he asked, his voice falling into that mocking baby voice he loved to use to upset you. There was nothing more frustrating than being a grown woman, with a better job than both of them, being talked down to like that.

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding as quickly as you could with his hand on your face.

“Need me to wake you up a little?” he asked, a darkness shining in his brown eyes. You braced yourself when the hand on your face dropped to your neck, his ringed hand winding up to deliver a sharp and biting back hand to your cheek. You yelped at the impact, but your back arched slightly, a little mewl leaving your lips.

Steve gave a stern look at Eddie, “Watch yourself, Munson.”

“She’s fine,” he said, letting his hand caress your face while you purred into it, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“Right? Knew you’d like that, filthy girl,” he smirked, the bright pink of your cheek rousing something in his chest, “You love getting hit, don’t you?”

You nodded, containing yourself with short, shallow breaths. Mean as he was like this, he hated seeing you too stressed out.

“Deep breaths, pretty girl,” he said against your temple, “Take a deep breath, you’re doing so good.”

“Can we take the cuffs off? They hurt,” you whined into his cheek.

“I know they hurt, princess. I’ve been meaning to get you some new ones,” he said, he couldn’t resist you when your voice got soft and small like that. He fished for the key in his back pocket, his tongue jutting out while he felt for it. Eddie leaned over you, your head resting on the cushion between his thighs, closing your eyes while his hands snaked over your forearms to unlock the cuffs.

You heard the faint click and immediate relief as he gingerly slipped them off you, rubbing his thumb gently over the reddened skin, “Sorry baby, we’ll get some leather cuffs soon.”

He loved soothing you in little ways between changes in punishment, soft little check ins without words. Leaving little kisses on your shoulder, brushing your hair out of your face, a wink or an eyebrow raise to check how you’re doing, a squeeze here and there to let you know that he’s still there with you – just playing with you. He always triple scanned your body language when he thought he might get particularly rough, he could spot your tells from a mile away. One off kilter whine in your breath and he’d know you had to take a break or stop altogether.

Steve didn’t miss a beat, getting up and sliding his belt off, getting on his knees behind you. His hands were gentle on your wrists, opting to wrap his belt around your forearms instead. It kept your arms farther back, but also wouldn’t aid in anymore irritation. You whined while he did it, thinking you were being given at least a tiny break from being restrained. When he was done he gathered your hair so it laid down your back neatly, out of your face and chest, his warm hands resting on your shoulders behind you, “That’s better, isn’t it, baby?"

“Yes, daddy,” you answered softly.

“What else do you say?” Eddie asked, tapping your reddening cheek.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered at the contact on your face.

“You need another one?” he asked, “Think it’ll help you remember your manners?”

“One was enough, Ed,” Steve’s voice vibrated against your spine.

“Let her decide. Do you need another one, sweetheart?” Eddie cooed, not losing eye contact with you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, knowing it would be painful but ultimately worth it. There was something so indulgent about Eddie taking control like this, hurting you just enough to bring you under. He hummed with a smile, pulling you in for a hungry kiss, pulling your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. He brought the back of his ringed hand across your face again, the metal making harsh contact with your jaw. You couldn’t help but start crying at the sting, but you were throbbing between your knees. “Ed,” Steve warned again, smoothing his hand over your cheek protectively, “She can’t handle that.” “You sure?” he asked, reaching down between your legs, letting his fingers slide delicately into your slickness and coming back out to meet his lips. “Looks like she’s handling it just fine. Aren’t you, tiger?” he said with a wink, tasting your wetness on his fingers. “Yes sir, I can handle it,” you said, your voice small, craggled, and sleepy. You leaned into Steve’s hand, looking back at him, “I can handle it, daddy.” You hear Steve let out a sharp exhale through his nose, letting his hands fall back on your shoulders. He squeezed them gently, leaving a kiss on the skin by his thumb. Eddie reached over to the side table where his Camel’s were, fishing one out and putting it between his lips to light it. He took a long drag, looking down the slope of his nose at you.

“Open, princess,” he said, letting the smoke blow out into your face with his words, “Tongue all the way out — that’s it, that’s my good girl.”

“Tilt her head back Stevie,” his dark eyes meeting Steve’s amber ones. You felt Steve’s hand reach to the nape of your neck, ensnaring into your hair and pulling you back a little. His other hand cupped just under your chin. You could feel his bicep against your chest, his chest against your back — you wanted to settle back into him, let him lull you to sleep.

“You wanna have a filthy mouth, huh?” Eddie asked, cigarette dangling between the corner of his lips. He put it between his fingers, leaning his elbows on his knees so his hands hung over your face.

“Let’s see how filthy we can get it,” he said, his voice low and gravely, “That sound good, baby?”

You nodded, keeping your mouth open, waiting for him to reach for his jeans. But he didn’t. Instead, he held the cigarette over your tongue and flicked the end, the ash falling delicately on your taste buds. The acrid taste melted into your mouth, filling your nostrils, and making your eyes water. You instinctively swallowed the spit that collected in your mouth to wash away the ash. Eddie looked down at you like you were a science project, testing his limits. He waited for your tongue to come back out of your mouth to speak again. “Did you think I was gonna let that mouth touch my dick, tonight?” he asked, a dark laugh falling with his words, “Is that what you thought I meant?” “Yes master,” you said, Steve’s hands readjusting around you. “You’re not gonna get that dirty mouth anywhere near this cock, do you understand?” he glowered, his nose almost touching yours. He watched your eyes pool with tears, and he was satisfied with that response. “I understand, sir,” you cried. “Get that tongue back out,” he said, back to his original posture. You obeyed immediately, watching him take another drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke in your face, ashing in your mouth again. He did his best to avoid getting smoke in Steve’s eyes, running his hand through his hair in apology each time. “It doesn’t taste good, huh?” he mocked while you sputtered, more spit that tasted like charcoal and burnt tobacco slid down your throat. Your esophagus burned. “No, sir,” you responded, trying to find a way to charm him out of this. “But I deserve every punishment my master gives me,” you said breathily, a little gulp following suit. You looked up at him innocently through your lashes, leaning forward into Steve’s hold to get closer to Eddie’s knee. “Don’t,” Steve said, pulling you back towards his chest and putting you back in position. You whined in his grasp, struggling against him. “Aw, were you gonna try and seduce me out of this?” Eddie asked, his hand caressing your cheek, “That’s cute. Are you all done being my little ash tray?” You nodded at him, his thumb sliding over your cheek bone, “No problem, baby. I should cut back anyway.” He kept his eyes locked on yours while the cigarette in his fingers escaped your line of vision – but it wasn’t long before you knew where it was. The pain was a searing cold/hot, you could feel his fingertips against your skin while he pushed the embers into your thigh – branding you. The room was so quiet you could hear the sizzle of your skin where the cigarette met you. You gasped, a pained whine pouring out of your chest while the cool heat turned to a stinging burn before fading out. “Ooh, that hurt, didn’t it?” he said, his voice still mocking and cold. He tossed the cigarette butt into the actual ash tray on the coffee table behind Steve. You nodded, blubbering in Steve’s arms, looking down at the pink circular shining burn on your thigh. “Yes, sir, that hurt really bad,” you whispered, choking on the pain. Eddie tilted your head up gently to look at him, his demeanor a little softer but still dominant. He looked at you, your wet eyes, your pouty lips, the way your breath caught in your throat when he made eye contact with you. He couldn’t help but smile, his weak little woman, desperate to please him after such a big offense. He left a gentle kiss on your cheek, “I’m sorry, princess. Why don’t I give you a little break? Daddy can help clean you up while I get things ready upstairs.” “So we can go to bed?” your voice was so precious, he almost wanted to say yes. “Oh, no, baby. You’re not done being punished,” he said it like it was obvious. You pouted while Steve stood you up and took off your restraints, pulling you into him while he brought you into the half bath attached to the living room. Steve’s hands were soft and gentle while he sat you down on the the toilet seat, going into the medicine cabinet and taking out the Neosporin to treat your burn. He wet a wash cloth with cool water, crouching down next to you to hold it on your thigh. “You okay, princess? We can stop,” he said when you winced at the cloth on your skin. He pulled it away, putting a small dab of the treatment down and putting a band aid over the little burn. His hand smoothed over the mass of your thigh. “I’m okay,” you assured, “I can take it.” “That burn looked like it really hurt,” he said, kneeling between your knees, “Want me to kiss it better?” “Please, daddy,” you said, your fingers snaking into his hair. He gave you a wink, spreading your legs apart, hooking your legs over his shoulders. His nose bumped your puffed lips before his tongue could slip between them, making you shiver. Your breath ragged by the time his tongue made its first stripe along your dripping slit, capturing your clit in its wake. Your back arched into his mouth instantly, the slickness of his tongue inside you was already getting you close to the edge. “So close, already?” he asked, letting his fingers trail up and down between your folds, “You like how Ed’s been putting you in your place?” “Yes, daddy,” you panted, squirming underneath his touch, “I don’t think you’re s’posed to be making me feel good.” “Daddy can do what he wants,” he said, his eyes meeting yours while his middle finger started sliding into you slowly. Your mouth gaped open at the feeling, “Tell me how much you like that.” “I like that so much,” you whispered breathily, your head falling back to the wall. “You know what I meant, princess. Say it,” he said, sitting back on his heels while his ring finger met with his middle, his thumb searching for your clit. You blushed. Steve knew how embarrassed it made you to be asked to say what you liked out loud. He loved seeing you cover your face and mumble it out, only to ask you to say it louder. He was ‘just trying to get you to be more confident’ — you should always know to ask for exactly what you want. “I like when you…unh, I like — mm! oh! — God,” you choked out while he curved his fingers up inside of you, his thumb slid quickly back and forth over your hood, massaging your clit without making it too sensitive. “Say it, baby. Say it for daddy,” he said, getting breathless himself. His cock painfully hard in his boxer briefs, aching to be let out of his jeans. “Oh, are we making her tell us what she likes?” Eddie said, appearing at the door frame. He looked at you with hungry eyes and a dimpled smirk, shirt discarded — now just in boxers hung low at his waist. You drooled instantly at the sight of him leaning on his arm against the frame, the flex of his bicep, the soft definition in his chest. “Come on, sweet thing — you had such a dirty mouth earlier,” he said, slinking closer to you, his hand gently holding your throat, “Tell daddy how much you like his fingers inside you. You wouldn’t wanna hurt his feelings, would you?” Your face burned with embarrassment but you didn’t want Steve to slow down anytime soon. If you could at least cum once before your next punishment upstairs, it might all be worth it. “I love when Daddy has his fingers inside me,” you blurted out, your thighs clamping down on Steve’s wrist. “Fingers inside where, baby?” Eddie coaxed, raising his brows slightly. “I love when — ah! — when Daddy has his - has, shit!, has his fingers in my – mm – in my pussy,” you mewled, your hand reaching down to hold Steve’s wrist while his other hand wrenched your knees apart. “Good girl,” Steve praised, feeling your walls pulse around his fingers, “Ooh yeah, fuck — fucking cum for me princess. Such a good girl.” “‘I’m such a good girl,” you parroted back. The sentence sounded stupid falling out of your mouth, Eddie tutted at your fucked out voice. “For who, baby?” Steve asked, standing up. “’M such a good girl for- for daddy,” you sighed, planting your feet back on the floor gingerly. Eddie let go of your throat and both boys admired you for a moment — your naked frame with a film of sweat, sitting on the toilet seat cover. Steve smoothed your hair out of your face, pushing the tendrils sticking to your cheeks behind your ears. You got up slowly, both of them walking you to the stairs, Steve letting you follow after Eddie and him following close behind.

You got into the bedroom, still shaky from your orgasm, to see the bed made. On it, the roughest rope Eddie owned, the new leather strap the boys bought recently, and a handful of change. “Come here, pretty girl,” Eddie whispered. He could see you fading, either from being tired or from finishing, or because your mind had gone somewhere else, somewhere he loved taking you. He pulled you close to him, his hands sliding from the top of your back to your waist, down to your ass. He gave your cheeks a soft squeeze and pressed a gentle kiss between your eyebrows, “Gonna tie you up, okay?” “Yes, sir,” you said, looking up at him through heavy lids.

“You with me?” he asked. “Yeah, Ed, I’m with you,” you mumbled. He turned you around, Steve holding your forearms together behind your back while Eddie wrapped the uncomfortable rope around you. “What do you say when you’re all done?” Steve asked. “Sabbath,” you said. You felt the pull of Eddie tightening the rope. “What do you say when you’re all done?” Eddie repeated. “Sabbath,” you said again. “That’s my girl,” Steve said, giving you a little tap on the ass. Eddie guided you close to the wall, so just the tips of your toes were touching it, your nose almost brushing the wall paper. He held a quarter in front of your face, the ridge touching your nose, “Let’s play a game, huh? Think you can hold this to the wall for five minutes?” You huffed, “Probably not.” His lips brushed your ear, his low gravely voice sliding from your eardrum to your chest, “Such a defeatist, princess. If you can, I’ll let you use that mouth on me.” “What if I can’t?” your voice was sharp. Desperate to have them untie you and put you to bed. You were getting irritated, sleep was pulling at your eyelashes, begging you to shut your eyes. “It’ll hurt,” he said, his little grin still glinting in the low light. He pressed his lips on your neck, just below your ear. Just how you like it. “You should get that strap ready for her, Stevie – I don’t think she’s gonna make the cut.” “I don’t wanna play your stupid game, Ed,” you said, you could see Steve’s hands turn to fists at your tone. “So you forfeit?” Eddie asked, a michevious look dacing over his features, “Don’t wanna try for the big prize?” “Pfft. You call sucking your dick a prize?” you brat out, you just wanted to go to bed. Your normally aching desire to please them no longer over riding how tired you were. A tired that was tumbling quickly into deeply annoyed.

“‘S’cuse me?” Steve’s voice was gruff while he grabbed your face to look at him, “Why don’t you watch that mouth, hm?”

“No, no, Stevie,” Eddie said calmly, his voice lilted again, “That’s exactly the response she wants. Sometimes it’s better to just ignore her little attitude. She wouldn’t act out like this if she didn’t want attention. Isn’t that right, sweet thing?”

Steve let go of your face and shoved it roughly back towards the wall, a glimmer of his old self coming through. In any other case, that kind of handling would’ve sent you straight back to obedience. However, Eddie’s soft mocking coo was making you see red. You hated this voice.

“You just want a spanking, don’t you?” he mocked, “Yeah? Need to be punished?”

“I just want to go to bed,” you hissed. “I know, baby, I know,” Ed cooed, tucking your hair behind your ear. He knew his tamber was getting under your skin, “You should’ve thought about that before you snuck out.” “You know something? Watching you get all fussy is really doing it for me,” he said, pulling at the rope on your forearms. He walked you backward toward the end of the bed and helped you kneel down. You sat back on your heels and you saw Steve bite back the need to tell you to ‘get your ass up’ or ‘kneel at attention’. Eddie sat at the edge of the bed, your head just an inch from his knee. He turned to you and put a hand to your cheek, “All this attitude you’re slinging is makin’ me need my dick sucked somethin’ awful, but since your mouth is still a fucking ashtray – I’m gonna have to use an outside source,” he explained. The warmth of his hand made your eyelids close, a soft hum leaving your lips as his let his thumb slide over your cheek. The gentleness ended with a loud clap to the side of your face, “Wake the fuck up and watch.” You winced at Eddie’s words, they somehow hurt worse than the slap. “Hey Stevie,” Ed’s voice was gentle now, “C’mere handsome.” Steve didn’t have to think twice, he stood between Ed’s open legs, crouching down to pull him into a kiss. You immediately whined watching the way Steve kissed Eddie, hungry but delicate. Like he didn’t want to hurt him, like he was trying to impress him – and he was. It was unspoken how much power Eddie had over Steve when they were together, something you never aknowledged for your own sake. Eddie gasped when Steve got to his neck who was leaving love bites and bruises where his record store customers wouldn’t see them. (Not that Eddie ever really cared.) Steve’s hand was expertly palming him over his boxers, Eddie’s hand over his, grinding in rhythm with the feeling. Eddie tossed a look over to you and tutted at how pathetic and needy you got so quickly, it was so hard for you not to be the center of their attention. Eddie pulled his cock out of his boxers while Steve kept his lips focused on the tattoo on his chest. But at the sight of his dick in his hands, Steve moved quickly – getting down on his knees. He batted Ed’s hand away to replace it with his own, stroking him diligently while looking up at Eddie. Steve’s glassy amber eyes begging for his approval. “Look at you, pretty boy, waiting for me to say it’s okay,” Eddie mused, running a hand through Steve’s hair, “Go ahead.” Steve looked like a puppy who was just given a treat, immediately dipping his head down over Ed’s cock. His strong jaw flexing with every dip down his shaft. Unlike you, Steve could take Ed down to the hilt, gripping Ed’s hairy thighs with his strong hands – grunting while he did it. “You could really learn a thing or two from him, sweetheart,” Eddie winked over at you. You pouted, wondering if every ‘You’re so pretty when you gag on my cock,’ was an offhand plea to learn how to take all of him without protest. Steve smiled while he came back up, wiping his mouth with one hand, the other working Eddie’s shaft closer to the base. He let his tongue slide over the tip, gathering precum and swallowing, keeping eye contact with Eddie the whole time. It was clear that eye contact was something Ed had trained him to do, you wondered how Ed punished him when Steve didn’t do what he was told. “You feeling left out, princess?” Eddie asked, his hips bucking while Steve continued to go to work on him. You nodded, resting your chin on his knee. “Can I have a turn?” you asked gently, your mouth pooling with drool as you watched Steve’s lips leave Eddie’s cock. Strings of saliva connecting the two. “No baby, you forfeited, remember?” Eddie said, patting your head. His other hand gripping Steve’s hair, guiding him back to his cock. His voice back to mocking you, babying you, punishing you. “But since you’ve been a good girl sitting there, I’ll let you suck on my fingers,” He slid his hand from the top of your head to resting the pads of his fingers over your lips. You whined behind a closed mouth, but Eddie didn’t care about your protests. He shoved his ringed fingers past your lips and teeth anyway, his middle finger reaching the back of your throat so that your mouth filled with spit. “Oh fuck, Stevie, that’s it,” Eddie gasped out again, “Just like that, such a good boy for me.” He was fucking Steve’s mouth at this point, not that Steve noticed, he looked completely blissed out. His eyes fluttered closed, his cheeks flushed, sweat building in his gorgeous hairline. You did your best to match Steve’s pace on Eddie’s fingers, but with the rings in the way you were coming up short. Spit slid out of the corners of your mouth, he was unrelenting with his movements on purpose. “Steve – oh fuck Stevie, baby, I’m gonna – M’so close,” Eddie hissed, “God, fuck oh god – Jesus, Steve.” Ed came hard and nearly choked you with the spasms his hand had in your mouth. You watched Steve swallow neatly. Everything about Steve was so proper all the time, he was never sloppy – he wasn’t like you. Your heart ached thinking that maybe Eddie liked that better. They came down, Eddie’s fingers still in your mouth. The way they looked at eachother, they might as well have forgotten you were there. You watched them give each other a few final kisses while their breath slowed. “I’ll take good care of you later, okay sweet boy?” Eddie muttered, their lips still touching, “Make you fucking scream.” Steve smiled, eyes still closed. “Not too loud though,” Steve mumbled with a little snicker. “Oh you’re right,” Ed’s voice reanimated and he leaned back looking at you, “Wouldn’t wanna wake the baby.” Eddie took his fingers out of your mouth, drenched in your spit, and rubbed it all over your face. You could smell the ash on your breath still. “Messy girl,” Eddie said, seeing tears start to pool in your eyes. He tucked himself back into his boxers and stood up with Steve, their attention back on you. For a moment, you wished it wasn’t. Steve hoisted you by the hair to your feet, quick to re-establish dominance after such a show. His hands were rough with you while he put you on the bed, face down in your pillows, back perfectly arched with your ass in the air. Your arms ached from being tied up, but you knew they’d be numb soon - no use in complaining about it. You heard Eddie pick up the leather strap from under you. You turned your face to the side do you could breathe. “Didn’t think we’d forget, did you?” Eddie asked. “No, sir,” you croaked out. “Can’t deny Daddy his chance to shine,” Eddie laughed to himself. You heard a shuffle of hands – fuck – he was gonna let Steve do it. “But I didn’t say he cou–” you started. “Shh, shh, shh,” Steve hushed you, you felt his hand on your back, his face appearing soon after. “Do you want Eddie to do it, or do you want me to do it?” he asked. You saw the strap in his hands, his forearms strong and unforgiving, his watch on his wrist that in some way oozed more authority. You could tell he wanted to, he’d been holding back all night, all week, ever since that night in November. You took a deep breath and looked up at him with glassy eyes, “You can do it, Daddy.” “That’s a good girl,” he said, clapping his hand down on your ass before he walked around the mattress. He didn’t warn you before he started, another notch in his tally – something he was supposed to do now. The first spank made you cry out instantly, the strap left a stinging pain. Different from being belted, more weighted, more intention. Your chest was already heaving at the second one – your arms were numb, you were so so tired. “Learning your lesson, baby?” Steve asked, the strap coming down hard again over your thighs. “Yes daddy,” you cried, “I’m learning my lesson.” “Not gonna sneak out anymore, huh?” Eddie asked. “No sir – AH–Ow, ouch! – I won’t sneak out eh-ever ag-again,” your voice was back to whiny and pathetic. Just how Ed liked it. Steve was back to business as usual, no waiting in between, just relentless smack after smack. He was taking his frustration out on you, his embarrassment of being watched while he serviced Ed, he needed you to know he was still in charge. “Let up a little, Stevie, it’s too much,” you heard Ed say, but your mind was starting to slip. Just the jostle in your body while the strap came down on you, Steve’s ragged grunts while he did it, the way Eddie spoke to you. So so tired. Crying wasn’t just coming from the beating now, you wanted them to leave you alone. “Too much? You fuckin’ branded her,” Steve argued back. The frustration he felt being called out again made every slap harder than the next. You were shaking in pain. “Sabbath,” you choked out, “Sabbath, sabbath, sabbath.” You heard the strap drop the the ground and Eddie picking up his switch blade off one of the dressers. Their hands immediately making contact with you. You could feel Eddie cutting through the rope to get you free quicker, your arms falling limply to your side. “Baby, I’m so sorry – that was too much,” Eddie whispered, crawling on to the mattress and pulling you into his arms. He pressed your head into the crook of his neck, “We were playing for too long, huh?” You nodded, half crying, half falling asleep in this position. “I told you that was too much, Steve,” Eddie said, his voice vibrating and low against your own chest. “I’m sorry,” Steve said, crawling up the other side of you, “Got too ahead of myself, angel.” You felt the cool aloe gel on the backs of your thighs and your behind, Steve’s strong hands gently massaging it into your skin, “I’m sorry, princess.” “It’s okay,” you mumbled into Eddie’s neck, “You’re trying your best.” “I’ll deal with him later,” you heard Eddie say in your ear, the smile prominent in his tone, “You wanna go to bed, huh?” You simply nodded. “Lets clean you up a little first, and then I’ll put you to bed, okay?” Eddie asked. Eddie helped you out of bed, your body heavy and weighted with sleep. Steve got up to follow you, but Eddie motioned him to the second bedroom. “Said I’d deal with you later,” Eddie mumbled to him. Steve frowned and went into the other room, disappointed with himself for going overboard again. You could hear his little tantrum when he shut the door behind him. “Okay, sweet thing,” Eddie breathed out while getting you in the bathroom. He took your face wash out from the shower and rinsed a face cloth he grabbed from under the sink. “I won’t do that again, I can tell you didn’t like it,” Eddie said, gently wiping your face off. “No, no it’s okay,” you said, “Just not after you put cigarettes in my mouth. Don’t do it after that, please.” “Okay, I won’t,” he agreed with a soft smile, “Rinse, baby.” You leaned over the sink gathering water in your hands, splashing it against your face. It felt good on your cheeks, still smarting from Eddie’s two back hands and slap from earlier. He passed you a hand towel to pat your face dry and when you looked up your tooth brush was already in his hands, prepped for use. He examined you while you brushed your teeth, sucking his teeth at the dark red marks on your face. “I’ll take my rings off next time,” he noted to himself. “You don’t have to,” you said, spitting and then reaching for the Listerine in the medicine cabinet. He took it from your hands to open it for you, pouring it out into the cup. He watch you swish, holding your hair back while you spit again into the sink. “Why do you do that?” he asked, putting your face in his hands, “Why do you say ‘It’s okay’ and ‘You don’t have to’ when I can tell it’s too much and you’re only tolerating it? Why’d you let Steve use the strap when you knew you wanted me to do it?” “I wanna be good,” you said, your eyes wide and glassy, “I don’t want you to be upset with me if it’s something you like.” “It doesn’t matter if it’s something I like, or Steve likes,” he said, his eyes full of loving concern, “It matters that you like it. That you feel safe. We talked about this.” “I don’t wanna disappoint you,” you whispered. “Hey,” he said, kissing you soft and gentle, “You could never disappoint me.” “What about Steve?” you asked, you could have sworn you saw his face fall for a second. He let a breath out of his nose. “I’ll take care of Steve,” he said, “I’ll take care of everything.” “That’s not your job,” you said. He held you close to his chest, his lips capturing yours again, tongue brushing your lips. You let him take the lead, as always, his tongue dancing with yours. One hand fell to the middle of your back, he wanted to push you inside of him. He was desperate to make you feel his love through his kiss. “I’m making it my job, fuck the record store,” he mumbled against your mouth, “Capiche?” You giggled into another kiss, “Capiche.” “Let’s get you to bed,” he said, “Sleepy girl.” He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his torso while he walked you half way down the hallway into the bedroom. Eddie sat you on the bed, pulled out one of his t-shirts and a pair of your underwear from the dresser and slowly got to work getting you dressed. “Arms up,” he said, gathering the fabric in his hands. You lazily put your hands up, muscles still aching from being tied behind your back. The cool softness of his shirt slipped cozily over you, reminding you of Eddie’s own softness. The love he offers always feeling like the cool side of the pillow. You slide your underwear on while he turns down the bed and crawl over under the covers. “Hope you rest, cause I’m taking you to breakfast tomorrow,” Eddie said, tucking the covers up to your chin. “Just us?” you asked, your voice is tired but excited. You see his cheeks flush red at the sound. “Just us,” he said, leaving a kiss on your temple. He got up, you watched him through heavy lids walk to the door, looking back at you from the door frame. “Probably gonna fuck you raw in the van, too,” he added before flicking the light off, “Night, sweet thing.” You laughed through your nose, exhaustion taking over. You could hear the boys in the next room talking, something along the lines of ‘Get back on those knees, handsome.’ You settled onto your side, your muscles fully relaxing, sleep came easy — like Steve when he was really pent up. You thought for a moment, just a breif moment, about how you’ll go about it differently when you sneak out again next time.

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