#just the other day i probably talked more shit about my boss

[slaymitchabernathy]

Mr. Peacekeeper

Coriolanus hears her before he sees her. Or well, he hears the other guys and their jeers, alerting him of her presence on the base.

Becoming a Peacekeeper—involuntarily—has been a difficult adjustment for Coriolanus Snow who was used to the ways of the Capitol, to say the least. In that beautiful city, there was law and order, a natural hierarchy and he was so close to making his way to the top.

Snow lands on top after all.

But he fell, fell down the rabbit hole and here he was sitting on the edge of his bunk shining his black Peacekeeper boots. At least he was from the Capitol, he knew the rest of these men couldn’t say the same and that gave him an upper hand. At least in his mind, it did.

It’s empty in his barrack, everyone’s either down at the Hob or in the mess hall. He chose to forego either so he could have some time to himself, plan out his grand future. More like his grand escape. That’s why he’s really here, so see her, talk to her, learn from her.

They do things differently in the Districts. Without the Capitol here to direct and instate immediate order it’s become a bit of a wasteland. And who in the Capitol gives a shit about District Twelve?

The sound of the door creaking open pulls him from his thoughts and he looks up to see Soarynn wearing that sweet smile as she walks towards his bunk. She's put some effort into her appearance today which is a stark contrast to how he first met her, stumbling out of another barrack in the middle of the night, with no shoes, her hair a mess, her makeup slightly smudged and she reeked of sex.

A barracks bunny.

That's what she was. At least that's what Beanpole told him when Coriolanus asked about the messy-headed blonde girl the next morning at breakfast He'd gotten a few chuckles from the older Peacekeepers, "She's real wild in the sheets, you should meet her sometime," Smiley had told him. The idea of a girl willingly entering the Peacekeeper's base to provide...services was somewhat revolting to Coriolanus who was used to women being civilized. He certainly hadn't come across any prostitutes while roaming the streets of the Capitol after dark.

It instantly made Soarynn trash in his eyes. Lowlife, pathetic, District trash.

"Well, don't you look pretty?" He asks, looking her up and down. She's wearing a light pink dress that has lace detailing on the hem. It's probably the nicest thing she owns and she wore it just for him. Her hair is pulled back and there's probably a ribbon tying it up with a few pieces framing her face. Soarynn giggles and plops down next to him, her hand immediately taking his. He's still taken aback by it, her confidence. But Soarynn is more than used to being around dangerous men like him, it's second nature to her.

"Had to look good for my favorite Peacekeeper," she says sweetly, batting those blue-gray eyes up at him. Oh, how he'd love to see them roll back in pleasure. He smirks, "You look the prettiest when you're crying on my cock, but you know that already don't you?"

Soarynn hums, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, the same ones she loves lodged deep in her cunt until she's teary-eyed. “Saw y’all strung up someone else today,” she says, but she doesn’t sound mad like some other people in town. They’d hung a known criminal today after he attempted to attack one of the mine bosses. The crowd was outright aggressive and Coriolanus was honestly surprised shots hadn’t been fired.

He nods, “Yeah, didn’t see you in the crowd though.” Soarynn giggles and drops his hand, “I was asleep.” Well he’s not surprised there. Soarynn is a true night owl, sleeping during the day and wide awake during the night. A bit unusual but when your job is sleeping around with all sorts of men you tend to have an odd sleep schedule.

At first, Coriolanus had been slightly put off by her work. Sleeping around was one thing but selling yourself? He did his best to avoid her, not become another one of her customers. But she was hard to ignore with that smile and those eyes not to mention the moans she’d let out while she got fucked. He knew most men on this base couldn’t give her what she really wanted but it wasn’t really about her and she knew that. Still, she put on quite the show with her exaggerated gasps and moans.

All for a few crumpled up pieces of money.

Eventually he caved. Got her to give him a blowjob one night at the Hob. Soarynn’s services extended past the base into the greater area of District Twelve and she was more than happy to help him out. That’s when he got addicted to her.

Maybe it was because the base lacked a certain amount of feminine charm but Coriolanus was downright desperate for some female company. He didn’t always fuck her. Sometimes he’d finger her or she’d give him head, other times they’d just talk. She was seventeen, one year younger than him but well beyond her years in his opinion. She was funny, clever and so, so sweet.

And no matter how many times he fell asleep with her in his arms, he always woke up to an empty bed.

“Did you have sweet dreams?” He asks, frowning at the loss of physical contact. Soarynn shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter does it?” Well she has a point. And he didn’t ask her to come here for conversation this time. He needs to fuck. Let all his frustrations out on her. The worst part is that she’ll let him do whatever he wants to her. As long as he pays her for it.

It’s almost pitiful the way her eyes light up at the sight of a shiny coin when he pulls it from his pocket. She’s got siblings at home, lots of little ones to look after, mouths to feed. Her mom died when she was little and her dad works in the mines. He has no idea that his daughter’s a whore.

“You miss me?” He asks, placing the coin into her palm, her small fingers wrapping around it. Coriolanus leans in and presses a kiss to her neck, smirking when she whimpers, “Mhm, missed you a lot Coriolanus.” The way his name rolls off her tongue is a sweet symphony. He wants to hear it again and again and again. He slips a hand under he dress, his fingers dragging along her lace panties.

Her lingerie is probably the nicest thing she owns but when you make a living selling your body he supposed that you’d need to invest in a good lingerie selection. He sometimes imagines her in proper, expensive lingerie from the Capitol. Taking her there, giving her a leash and collar and teaching her how to be a good girl for him. Train her.

Soarynn asks him lots of questions about the Capitol, so curious about it all. He thinks it’s cute the way her eyes light up when he tells her a new fact about the city he used to call home. “Why don’t you lay on back for me then?” He asks, pulling his hand back out and earning him a whine. He shoots her a stern look and Soarynn is quick to lay down on his bunk. Thank goodness he chose the bottom bunk because he can’t imagine trying to conquer the top bunk while conquering her sweet cunt.

“How much to finish inside of you?” He grunts, grabbing her hips and tugging her under him. Soarynn gasps and sits up on her elbows, shooting him a nervous look, “I…I don’t know if I can let you finish inside me anymore,” she says quietly.

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows. It costs extra to finish inside that pretty little cunt of hers and not too many men can afford that luxury. Just another thing that sets him apart from these District folk. “Why not?” He asks, his tone far from kind. Usually he wouldn’t fight her on it but he’s had a long day and all he wants to do is bury himself inside her cunt.

Soarynn swallows and stares at the springs of the top bunk above her, “I um…I just don’t wanna do that anymore. With anyone, not just you I swear.” And that’s more than a reasonable answer but Coriolanus wants nothing more than to bury himself inside of her when he finishes and he just can’t take no for an answer. Not today. Not after the week he’s had.

Anger flashes through his eyes and he grabs her thigh, squeezing it so tight that he'll definitely leave behind bruises from where his fingers were, "A bit ironic huh? The District Twelve whore doesn't want to do her job anymore?" He knows he's being mean, cruel, and that Soarynn's just doing her best to provide for her siblings but this just might push him over the edge.

He can't stand it here. The heat, the bugs, the smell, and the people are the worst part of it all. Everyone has sunken faces and bony figures, he's surprised most of them can stand. Soarynn is no different, even at seventeen she could easily pass for fifteen the way her growth has been stunted. Coriolanus can count every single one of her ribs when she arches her back from pleasure and far from well-fed. Sometimes the guys on base will sneak her some food, a piece of bread, or some leftover bologna.

A small price to pay to fuck her senseless.

Soarynn's eyes slightly widen at his hurtful comments but she's got thick skin she shakes her head, "I can't afford another mouth to feed." He wants to roll his eyes at that line of defense because heaven knows Soarynn could never carry a child inside of her malnourished body but there has to be a better reason as to why she won't let him finish inside of her.

"I think you're lying," he says slowly, sliding his hand up to her inner thigh, "I think you're too scared to tell me the actual truth Soarynn." Soarynn presses her thighs together but his hand stays where he put it and she huffs, "What's it matter to you?" She snaps, a defiant look in her eyes, "Not like you wanna be around the likes of me for any longer than you have to." She's got him there. Coriolanus has spent one too many nights telling Soarynn about his grand plans once he gets the hell out of here. She'd sit wide-eyed and listen to him, hanging on every word he said.

"I'll go back to my penthouse," he'd say, "fix it up, get a new chandelier, then I'd go to the University, get a true education. Then it's off to the big leagues, running for President." Soarynn would be so attentive, so interested in his perfectly planned future. One night as they were drifting off to sleep she had mumbled some words that still stuck with him to this day, "Maybe I could come with you, just for a bit."

This little girl often believed in him more than he did and he'd be damned if he let all that go to waste. He shakes his head and sits back on his knees, "There's still something you're not telling me. What is it? Did your old boyfriend find out about your little job?" Soarynn turns a shade of pink at him mentioning her old flame, Billy Taupe. According to Soarynn, Billy Taupe had been her first time in everything. First kiss, first time having sex, and all of the in-between. Coriolanus hated him for that. Mainly because the man was the same age as Coriolanus, making him older than Soarynn. And yes, Coriolanus was no better than him in that regard, but, he wasn't dating Soarynn.

He was fucking her. There's a difference.

She looks down at her dress and he sees something he's never seen in her eyes before, shame. Soarynn is a lot of things, she's quick on her feet, witty, and confident. She's never had any shame for her chosen profession but it's written clear as day on her face.

"My dad," she finally says, "he came home early the other night, must've caught wind of what I've been up to. We argued for a long while before...before he kicked me out. Won't let me see my siblings, won't let me back in the house, nothin' is gonna change his mind." She's crying now and Coriolanus is beginning to feel uncomfortable because all he had wanted was a quick fuck and maybe to get the local scoop on what was happening in town. He doesn't need a sob story but he can play this to his advantage.

He wastes no time in wrapping his strong arms around her, embracing her small, shaking frame, "Oh, Soarynn I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you." He doesn't mention how he has literally been kicked out of his home and the Capitol because that's not going to get him where he needs to go.

He's got to play his cards right.

So he lets her cry, the poor thing sounds devastated as she sobs into his white Peacekeeper shirt. He rubs her back in soothing circles, figuring she might as well get it all out now while she can. When she finally pulls away her eyes are puffy and her face is stained with tears, "I don't know what to do Coriolanus," she whispers, her fingers playing with his dog tags, "I'm staying' with a cousin of mine but I can't stay there forever."

For some reason, his mind drifts to the Officer's test he took the other day. Only those who were Capitol-born could qualify to take the test and Commander Hoff had basically told Coriolanus that he'd get the position considering most of the men on base can't read. He might even get transferred to a higher-ranking District, like District Two. Which was still a District nonetheless but for once, Coriolanus couldn't be picky.

Once he got to Two he'd climb up the ranks until he would be able to get back to the Capitol. He'd make it work somehow, he was sure of it. Too bad he'd have to leave Soarynn and all her troubles behind though. He'd miss the feeling of her sweet cunt wrapped around his cock.

Coriolanus perks up. "Soarynn?" She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand, "Yeah?" It's a crazy and stupid idea but it just might work if he plays his cards right, "I um...I'm going to leave Twelve soon, very soon actually once my Officer's test results come back," he starts, and Soarynn's face drops. She looks even sadder if that's possible, "Oh, oh, well that's real exciting Coriolanus," she mumbles. He bites the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to propose his idea to her. But Soarynn's harmless for the most part, and dispensable but she doesn't need to know that.

"Yes it is and I was thinking maybe I could take you with me."

Soarynn drops his dog tags and stares down at her lap for a moment, his words sinking in. She looks up at him and she looks like she doesn't believe a word he's saying, "Take me with you?" She repeats, tilting her head like a sweet little puppy. Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck because it does sound a bit crazy when you say it out loud but Soarynn could be the stepping stone he needs to climb up the ranks. It's a shot in the dark but it's a risk he's willing to take for her.

He nods, "Yeah. Um, you could come with me, I'm sure I could make it work, convince Hoff to let you leave Twelve, and that way you could kind of start over." He's overselling it but Soarynn doesn't pick up on it. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears and bites her lip the way she always does when she can't make a decision. Sometimes they play a game where he'll put a coin in one of his hands and tell her to pick which hand it's in. If she picks the right hand, she gets to keep the coin. Right now, she has to pick the correct hand.

"I'd have to leave my family," she finally says. There's pain and sadness in her voice but Coriolanus can't afford that, not when he already has this entire thing formulated in his mind, "They already left you," he tells her, cupping her face with his hand, "they all turned their backs on you when all you wanted was to provide for them."

More hurt flashes in her eyes but he is right to a certain extent. Sure, sleeping around with half the District wasn't the best way to make money and it sure as hell isn't legal but at least she was using her assets.

"How would you get me out?" She asks and he knows right then and there that he's got her. Coriolanus presses a kiss to her forehead, "Don't you worry about a thing."

꧁ ꧂

It's a bit nerve-racking to willingly walking into Commander Hoff's office but no one has gotten anywhere without a little bit of courage. So Coriolanus musters up all the courage he has before entering the office, his head held high.

He's greeted with a curt nod and Hoff gestures for him to take a seat, "You've impressed me, Snow," Hoff starts, "haven't had a man like you in a long time." Coriolanus swallows, "Thank you, sir." He has to keep it strictly business until the last moment. Hoff nods and holds up a file, "Your test scores came back. Passed with flying colors, as expected of course. We'll be sad to see you go." Coriolanus feels a small smile tug on his lips, "I'm leaving the base?" He asks, feigning surprise.

Hoff grunts and reaches for his glass of what looks like whiskey and takes a drink, "You are. District Two has a much better program than we do down here. Say, you wouldn't happen to be Crassus Snow's boy would you?" The painful reminder of his overachieving father stabs Coriolanus right in his ego but he nods, "Yes sir, he's my father." Hoff nods, seemingly impressed, "Now that was a real man. Always willing to do whatever was needed for us to succeed. These other men on this base, they don't have that, have the guts, the gaul. You have it though Private, I can see it."

Those words do nothing but inflate his previously stabbed ego. To be praised to the same degree as his father is something Coriolanus isn't used to but he's beginning to like it. Hoff waves his hand in the air, "But that's not what you're here for. You leave at the end of the week, make sure to say your goodbyes and get your affairs in order. tie up any loose ends."

Coriolanus only has one loose end and he plans on taking her with him whether he reaches to top or the bottom. He clears his throat before leaning forward in his chair, "That's what I was hoping to talk to you about sir." Hoff raises his eyebrow, Coriolanus is sure that the man doesn't get a lot of requests from his men but Coriolanus is willing to be the first. "Is there something you need Private?"

Coriolanus laces his fingers, "There is sir. You see, there's this girl here and I can't find it in myself to cut things off with her." Hoff lets out a laugh, it's so loud and unexpected that Coriolanus jumps in his seat. He watches the Commander laugh, laugh so hard that he has a tear running down his face, "Well give her one more slap on the ass before you go Private," he chuckles, wiping his tear, "can't stay here from some District lowlife."

Coriolanus glances at the closed door that leads outside before inching even closer to the edge of his seat, "You know the girl who comes here at night? The barracks bunny?"

"The blonde one?"

"That's her."

"What about her Snow?"

"That's the girl. The girl I can't leave. I need to take her with me to Two. She won't cause any trouble I swear."

Hoff manages to win the dumbstruck look off of his face in under a minute but Coriolanus is still nervous about what he's going to say. He could dismiss him, strip away all titles and achievements and Coriolanus could spend the rest of his miserable life in Twelve. "This girl of yours, she's a crowd favorite isn't she?" It pains Coriolanus to think of all the men Soarynn has been with. She hasn't slept with anyone else since he proposed the idea to her per his request. He'll have to get her properly tested for any diseases.

He nods, "She is sir." Hoff strokes his chin and leans back in his chair, lost in thought, "You know, I've seen her running around my base. Never chased her off though, it's good for the men to have something to motivate them you know. But after all these years I've never spoken to her, never run into her myself."

Coriolanus can't stop the grin from spreading across his face, "What if I could make that happen for you sir?"

꧁ ꧂

Thirty minutes later Coriolanus is walking out of Hoff's office with a skip in his step. They'd reached a wonderful agreement. He finds Soarynn right where he left her, sitting outside with her back against the wall. She's wearing her cleanest dress and he scrubbed her down in the shower until her skin turned pink. He wanted her spotless. Her hair is brushed and braided and she managed to get some makeup from her cousin when she went to get her things the other day to move out.

Soarynn looks up at him and she looks nervous, he knows why though. She's never met Commander Hoff, didn't want to risk getting arrested. He offers her a hand and she gingerly takes it, her small fingers wrapping around his larger ones, she glances at the open door before looking back up at him.

Coriolanus leans down until his lips ghost the shell of her ear, "Go in there and make him happy."

And Soarynn does, because she's his good girl and his favorite little toy to share when need be.

They'll both be leaving on the next train should things go well tonight.

For her sake, he hopes they do.

꧁ ꧂

"I've never seen mountains like that before." Coriolanus looks up from his book and looks out the train window. He can see the icy peaks of District Two's mountains jutting into the sky, "The biggest mountain is called 'The Nut' and there's a base inside of it," he tells her, directly reading from the book in his hands. Hoff had given him the book as they got onto the train so he could brush up on his District Two knowledge. Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks up at him, "You're lyin', no way there's a base inside of that." He chuckles and closes the book, "You'll see it soon."

Getting Soarynn on this train hadn't been easy but he did it. After she spent the night with Commander Hoff she came back to his bunk covered in bruises with blood dripping down her leg. Coriolanus hadn't known what to say when she collapsed in his arms and sobbed until she passed out. The next day he was told that both of them would be traveling to District Two together where she would be his responsibility.

All Officers were given private sleep quarters which included a single twin bed, a dresser, and a small bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower. There was one window and one door in and out of the small shack but it was much better than sharing with several other men.

Soarynn had been so excited when he told her about it. She didn't even care that she would be thousands of miles away from her family. She'd gone to say her goodbyes to her siblings the morning the left. Coriolanus had accompanied her to the sorry excuse they considered a house. All her siblings looked just like her, blonde hair and blue eyes and they were all so young. Soarynn had kissed all their heads and whispered words of devotion and encouragement before giving her dad a more than awkward hug goodbye.

The man stared Coriolanus down the entire time as if this was all his fault.

Now they were almost to the station where they'd be driven directly to the base. Coriolanus had been more than pleased with the accommodations they'd been met with so far. First-class train tickets, a private escort to the station in Twelve. Things were already looking up for him.

He places a hand on Soarynn's thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, "Remember, manners, no talking unless spoken to and do-"

"Don't tell anyone how we really met," Soarynn finishes for him, "I know. I'm not dumb." She kind of was but he just kisses her temple, "It'll be good for us to start over," he decides."

As they pulled into the station he felt better than he had in a long, long time. Snow lands on top once again.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#slaymitchabernathy #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #wattpad #coriolanus smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ao3 fanfic #soarynn snow #staywithmealways #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x soarynn #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #original character #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus oneshot #oneshot #oc #tbosas #coryo snow #tbosas smut #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas fic

[mygwenchan]

At this point the hate campaign against Build has really become somewhat of a weekly occasion, huh? They always come for him when something good is happening, like the magazine sales that are doing really well, the current donation event and his nice Japan trip. They really need to ruin the mood every time... Well, I can only laugh about these pitiful attempts to destroy his career and his life. It's just narcissist and stalker behavior from his ex, quite pathetic tbh. She and her minions can't even get creative about it. Like come on, at least leak the s** tape or something! lol But nope, it's always just chats that are either fake or should've stayed private or some irrelevant pictures. Nothing new here. Next!

#yes i read the chat translations (which might not even be accurate i might add) #still don't care 🤷‍♀️🥱 #just the other day i probably talked more shit about my boss #than build ever did about all his ex-colleagues combined lol #guess i must be a horrible person as well #or just really stupid cause i'll continue to be his fan #or somehow a 14 years old who is fawning over a cute boy #oh well 😂 #best thing everyone can do is look at the big picture here #and ask themselves why these chats and pictures are still getting released after more than 6 months #why there is one scandal after the other #build isn't creating these scandals #he is not the one who leaks private information about others #he is not the one who spreads false rumors #he just wants to live his life in peace #it's the other party that can't move on #like i said #stalker behavior nothing else #at this point he should just get a restraining order against her or something #and get her minions accounts deleted while he's at it #midnight thoughts #build jakapan #build jakapan puttha

[mrfoox]

Ok i think im getting a crush on my work colleague and I am tired

The suprise is that the one I'm crushing on ISN'T the giant, kind older brother type that is super considerate

#miranda talking shit #Hes so much my type its hilarious but its not him im .... Yeah. #One reason as to why is probably bc we dont spend much time during work togheter so we don't talk much #Its usually before work starts we talk for 20m or so #But no... The one that i feel myself falling for is an girl 7 yrs older than me... #Its probably bc she seem to actually listen to me talk? She asks me questions... Im used to being that person #So i naturally talk more easy with her since she shows interest #She's very calm and evenly tempered and im just 😳 #Doesnt help she told ME first about an thing/idea she camr up with to make production better #She came up with it the day before when i wasnt there. But instead of telling our boss or the others #She excitedly told me the next day as soon as she saw me. Her face was so intense and excited i ♥️ #I have a thing for anyone whos rather calm collected and even with their expression. #Showing extra emotion. When i saw that face of hers last week i was like. Shit. Ok. This is making my chest stirr uh oh #Shes probably straight tho and I'd like to try to find out before i actually am in too deep

[pizzapizzadickz]

I'm having a very weird time lately. Like. Yeah I'm working, being productive, all that jazz. But now im thinking about what to do with the money I make and am considering if I could just give it to my parents or something bc using it stresses me out far too much and honesty I just can't.

#that was me. that basically still is me #diary #personal #this... is probably not a good thing? like. i just dont care rn. im tired. #ah. i also havent been sleeping regularly so that is probably doing a something. #but just. im so tired. as always. just so tired. #ugh. my boss was talking about her son's friends and how some of them are just living in their parents basements or something. #and she was saying how shes glad that at university hes making better ones. #and im just thinking like #no matter what i do i cant escape this shit. im so tired. i hate working #i was thinking in the washroom how if my parents died i probably wouldnt be able to care for myself. #if i ended up on the street. im not sure if id really do anything? bc besides pain coming from not eating. i dont care #its not like id want to die or anything. its just. i cant care for myself. and it keeps. getting. worse #...idk if im scared or just. i dont care. #there was something i was thinking bout the other day. and im pretty sure ive always been like this. utterly incapable of most things. #idk. i rememebr i used to do more. but now i cant do anythng. #im tired. so tired. i give up really. #i wish i could quit. bc this sort of tiredness cant be cured. i. am. so. tired. #haaah. i domt care i dont care i dont care i dont care i dont care

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.

He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."

"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.

"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."

Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."

Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 

"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.

"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."

"Okay, but-"

"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"

You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 

Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."

You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 

"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."

"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.

"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."

"Bradley, I don't want that one either."

He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"

"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."

He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."

You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."

He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.

"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"

"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 

"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

"I'm pregnant!" 

"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"

He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.

Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 

He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."

You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."

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

You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."

Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."

He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"

"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 

"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 

You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."

"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."

"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"

You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"

With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."

And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.

"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"

"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."

"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."

"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.

"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."

"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"

Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."

You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 

Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."

"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."

Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."

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

Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 

But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 

"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."

You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."

"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"

You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.

"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."

Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."

"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."

"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."

You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 

"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?

He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."

"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."

"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."

You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."

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

"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"

He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."

You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.

As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."

"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."

You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."

He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."

You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 

"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."

You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 

"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 

He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 

"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"

You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."

Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 

"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 

It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.

You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.

He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"

You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 

"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 

You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."

He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"

"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.

"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."

"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."

He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 

"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."

"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 

You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.

It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."

Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."

You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 

"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 

When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 

He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.

"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."

You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 

He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"

"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."

"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."

A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.

"You can't stop touching me, can you?"

"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."

"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 

"What?"

Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 

"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.

If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 

"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.

"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."

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

A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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[lovebugism]

Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended. 

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.  

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day. 

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.) 

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of. 

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes. 

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade. 

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour. 

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high. 

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part. 

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that. 

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater. 

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start. 

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer. 

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right? 

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his. 

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night. 

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth. 

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust. 

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

[vroomvroomcircuit]

You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #x reader #reader insert #charles leclerc x female!reader #x female!reader

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Bad Boys Get More

I had been working my office job for years now, at least 3. I talked my way up and had been happily ready to be promoted. But last time someone got it over me, no big deal. I wasn't concerned. I mean he was here longer than even I was! So of course he did! And then this month I had applied and interviewed again for a manager spot. Even higher than I got before. Unfortunately... I had been passed up again.

This time was different though. This time was much much worse. It was some guy with tats all over his body. That wasn't the only problem either. Devin, the new "manager" and guy in question, just didn't show up to work some days. So I decided enough was enough and I tried to confront my boss about it. It was his decision ultimately.

"Hey." I said a bit annoyed, but trying to conceal it. "Mind if I have a piece of your time, Henry."

My boss looked at me, he was also a bit younger... not as young as me but not old old? Probably just about 40. "Yeah sure, what's it about." He said a bit plainly as he walked back into his office, me following.

"It's about Devin." He nodded, knowing what I was going to say. "Why was he chosen over me? I mean... he has such shit attendance! He barely even did his job!"

By now Henry was a bit upset, I had been talking about this for the past week to other co-workers and he had overheard it. This was his decision and now he'd let me know why. "You wanna know why Devin got the job instead of you? One simple reason. He's chill."

"What?"

He continued as if I hadn't said a word. "Devin's a cool guy, he's been here a little less than you, sure, but he won't complain when someone else gets the job instead of him." He looked at me and nodded, as if knowing something.

"But he hardly looks professional!" I blurted out.

"Neither do you, Colt." Colt? Who's Colt? "But don't worry, we don't discriminate here against what's on someone's body. Which by the way, what are all of yours about?" He pointed to my arm... what was happening to it?! Black writing was going down it and ink filled it up. Making images, Henry came over and looked at my arm.

"Oh that? That's a meaning between someone and... wait... no..." I tried to resist.

"No need... dang, what gym do you go to? I would ask the next question on our interview but you've worked here for a while and I do know you can lift more than 50 pounds now." I looked at my bulking up physique. I tried to stop it but it just looked like I was flexing more. I held back a chuckle.

"Well... I think the interview might be done. You have the job, unless you have questions for me."

"I-I... What did you do to me?!" I stood up and looked at my body. My clothes clung to every bit of me, an outline in my pants and pecs obvious.

"Why Colt, I just made you able to get the job you wanted. Trust me. We were going to give it to you anyways but with how you were acting? Devin put in a good word at least. Said all you needed to do was be more like him. So... there ya go." He stood up and shook my hand.

"You'll get used to your new life during your shift with Dev tonight, shouldn't take long. Tons of changes... hopefully you find them all for the better." Henry smirked as he walked out. Devin came into the room.

"Glad to see you finally got 'your' Position dude. We're gonna have fun tonight..."

#bulky #alpha jock #jock #jock bulge #jock tf #muscle #handsome #alpha male tf #alpha muscle #alpha man #alpha #mtm tf #male tf #muscle tf #male body swap #male body possession #male transformation #male to male #bad boy tf #bad boy #mental transformation #transformation #transform

[partycatty]

older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

[sunny44]

All these years (Part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: bad words, fights and maybe more things

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was a long journey to Monaco.

My mother wanted me to stay at home and I really didn't want to, so I just arrived at the hotel I was going to stay at.

"What do you mean there's a problem with my accommodation?"

"I'm sorry Miss Y/l/n but your reservation was canceled two days ago."

"I didn't fucking cancel it."

"I did." I turned and saw my mother standing there. "Come on, Y/n."

"I'm sorry." said the receptionist who agreed and I followed my mother outside. "What's wrong with you? I said I didn't want to stay at your house."

"And I said I don't care what you want or don't want."

"So you called the hotel impersonating me and canceled my reservation? How did you know I'd be staying at this hotel?"

"It was obvious that you'd be staying in the hotel closest to us." I rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

"Then stop acting like you're the boss of me."

"But I am."

"No, you're not, the moment I moved out of your house and started supporting myself you lost that right and in case you can't count it's been years."

"Get in the car."

"I'm not going home, I told you."

"And I've told you that none of the other hotels will accept you there, so you either stay at home or sleep on the street. Now get in the car."

"I came by car so I don't need your ride."

I got into the car and slammed the door, driving off as fast as I could.

This was another reason why I hated coming here.

My mother.

Ever since Charles and I split up, she turned into this completely cold person, said I'd ruined everything and that I should have said no to the promotion and stayed here.

But her vision of a woman with the perfect life was to be married to a guy who worked to support his wife and kids.

That's what her mother, my grandmother, taught her, and that's why she's always been like that, so she thought I'd fall for it too.

I got home and after parking I saw my father coming out of the house and he smiled when he saw me.

"Hi my love, I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Dad." I hugged him tightly and he kissed my forehead.

"Where's your mom?"

"She’s probably coming, I drove here."

"She said she'd pick you up."

"She did, but I drove from Milan so...”

"You had a fight, didn't you?" I agreed. "Love, you have to make things right with her."

"No, she's the one who has to apologize to me." I looked at him. "Since when is a mother disappointed by her daughter's success?"

"She wasn't disappointed in you."

"Yes, she was and you know it, her dream was for me to marry him, get pregnant and live the life of a madam who doesn't do anything the way she does."

"Darling, your mother was raised like that.”

"So was I, but I took different paths, so it's her fault. We decided our own future and she decided hers and I decided mine." he agrees quietly. "Can you believe she canceled my hotel reservation and even called others so they wouldn't accept me just so I'd stay here?"

"Did you do this Jessica?" He asks and I turn around to see my mother standing there.

"You're barely home and you're already causing friction between me and your father, aren't you?"

"There wouldn't be any friction if you didn't do shit like that."

"Look at the way you talk to me in my house," she says angrily.

"I didn't even want to be here, you brought me here so take the consequences."

I picked up my suitcases and took them to my old room. It was completely different, but since I'd taken most of the things that made up my room, it ended up becoming a guest room.

"Y/n." Knocks on the door and enters. "We are having dinner later at the Leclerc's, okay?"

"I don't think I'm going."

"Why not?"

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" I say and he laughs.

That's what I liked most about my father, he understood my jokes and ironies and was always in a good mood.

"Well, it's up to you, but Arthur asked me to tell you that if you didn't show up he’d come and pick you up."

"Then he'll have to come." My father laughs and leaves.

tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamers @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld

The names with a line above were because I couldn't tag them

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc story #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc lockscreens #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc wallpaper #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc icons #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x max verstappen #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc edit #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc avatars #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc ferrari

[boydepartment]

Hi hi can you write something along the lines of enha showing up to your job cuz they know you're stressed?? Or something? I hope that makes sense 🙂

“i’m sorry baby.” - enha reactions when you have a rough day at work

a/n: OF COURSE :3 i’m sorry this took a million years

warnings- none just fluff

MASTERLIST

🍊jungwon… he definitely notices that your text messages were getting kinda weird and off. you weren’t texting a lot either, so it kinda freaked him out a bit. which led him to make the impulse decision of showing up to your work with flowers. what he didn’t expect was to see your car on and you crying in the car. he accidentally scares the shit out of you but you let him in your car and you both talked it out.

“i’m sorry my love… work sounds really rough and i wish i could help more, i can show up more surprising you or take you out after…”

🥭heeseung… you called him ranting about some gross guy that showed up to your job trying to talk to you. it was someone who was about to be trained to work with you so it stressed you out really bad. as you’re on the phone with him you didn’t even hear the car sounds and the next thing you knew he was bringing you your favorite drink and walking up to your establishment. he sits outside with you on your lunch hour too.

“so which fuck was it? that guy? pshhhh he looks like a loser, let me know if you want me to rough him up.”

🌽jay… the SECOND he hears your voice whimpering into the phone he’s sprinting to your work. he’s probably breaking speed laws too. when you see him parked outside your job you walked over there real quick to tell him your lunch hour is about to start. when it does you walk out there and spend time with you. luckily he dropped you off too so if you’re having a rough day and he’s your ride, he will stay in the vicinity of your job until you get off work. because he wants to go somewhere after to cheer you up.

“i’m sorry darling, you didn’t deserve any of that… would it help if we got your favorite snack?”

🍒jake… he would at first set up a movie night for you both, so when he picks you up, with flowers and a teddy bear, he had a fail safe at home too. which he didn’t even necessarily need. jake already picked you up walking into your place of work to spoil you in front of your coworkers. you were his everything and everyone needed to know, especially your coworkers who had been giving you backhanded compliments all day. when you got home you both cuddled as he reassured you that you’re everything to him.

“darling you work hard everyday, and you deserve to be respected… please don’t listen to their backhanded compliments.”

🍯sunghoon… he would tell you to pretend to get sick in the bathroom to get you off early. and you listen to him, normally you would feel guilty however all day you were practically get harassed by this one coworker and even though your other colleagues were comforting you, they never stood up for you. so on your break you called your boyfriend and he sprung into action immediately. he tells you to get the rest of the day off, and brings an extra pair of clothes for you in his car. when he scoops you up he takes you out to get food and you guys would watch the skyline as the sunsets. he knew you needed to look at something and talk.

“baby i told you, you can quit. i will pay for everything you’d never have to worry ever…”

🍋sunoo… ooooooo boy if he found out you were having a rough day to the point where you were going to put in your two weeks immediately after this shift he shows up. sunoo is ruthless when he requests to see your boss and rips him a new one for disrespecting you AND your colleagues. he goes full on overprotective boyfriend and will take legal action if needed. let’s just say your boss was definitely more understanding of you and your colleagues. you had no idea sunoo did this, and he would never tell you either.

“baby i’m so glad work is getting better! i guess your boss just had a change of heart :)”

🍓riki… you had a part time job while you did school. it wasn’t anything serious but some days it did get stressful. you texted riki that you ended up crying in the bathroom because of the stress and riki rushed to the store. he picked up your favorite flowers, snacks, and he grabbed the gift he was going to give you for valentine’s day. which is fine because he’ll just buy you another gift for valentine’s. he shows up to your work and showers you with these gifts. everyone was a little jealous of you but that was riki’s point. to make you know you’re his favorite and they should be envious of your relationship.

“i picked these up for you, kiss on the cheek please!”

#enhypen #kpop #enha #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #jay park imagines #jay park x reader #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong x reader #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon x reader #kim sunoo imagines #kim sunoo x reader #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #enhypen comfort #enha comfort #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon enhypen #jake sim #lee heeseung fluff

[houseofripley]

Hotel Hell - Part Two

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Part One Pinterest

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Fighting, Shoving, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, MAKEUP SEX

WORD COUNT: 3,812

A/N: omg i am sorry this took me years to finish, life has been busy but it should calm down soon. i got such a good request the other day and i haven't gotten it off my mind so i will start that tmrw if i have time. also i proofread this at 2am so please ignore any mistakes lol

“The Brutalization Chamber? You want to know what The Brutalization Chamber is?” The Irish man laughed out, his eyebrows raising once you turned your gaze towards him. 

An expression of curiosity displayed on your face as you repeated the name of the supposed ‘chamber’. It was obvious to the man that you wanted to know more.

The man began making his way down the stairs, “No offense sweetheart…but I don’t really think this is the place for a girl li-” He tried to speak before being cut off.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“I don’t really care what you think sir, I want you to show me what's down there.” You chirped out, following the male down the flight of stairs, your hand hovering over your aching ribs.

“Well shit, if you insist,” The guy chuckled out, “Feisty, she’ll like you.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door. 

She’ll like you…was he talking about the same ‘she’ you had spent your night with? The same woman who just got done unleashing pure cruelty onto you? The same woman who disappeared into this exact building moments ago?

“Name’s Finn by the way,” He mentioned, “It’s just us, the big boss is probably around here somewhere as well.” Finn spoke as you scanned the room looking for ‘the big boss’.

Grimy was the only way to portray the room. Rope lights scattered across the ceiling, some were dim while others flickered. There were freezing concrete walls with cracks littered all over. A red neon sign displaying the letters ‘TBC’. A blood stained ring sat taking up a quarter of the room. Various pieces of gym equipment and punching bags were compressed into a room off to the side. 

“So…just a gym?” You questioned the man, there was no sign of Rhea.

“Nah, it’s a little more than just a gym love…think of it as a fight club. A fight club with a fuck ton of money involved.” Finn stated leading into a room the size of a walk-in closet, the room seemingly being a pathetic excuse of a nurses office. 

You leaned against the door frame while Finn babbled on as he started unpacking his bag, “People come to us in desperate need for money. They’re entered into our roster, put in the ring and bet on. If they win their match they get fifty percent of all bets placed. Bunch of sick wealthy men love wasting their fortune on this shit.”

“Don’t you think this is just a tad bit illegal?” You chuckled, sending a small wave of pain to your ribs.

“Eh I don’t worry about that too often,” Finn shrugged, digging around his duffle. “Rhea’s not too worried about the legalities when there's this much money involved, she can pay her way out of damn near anything.”

Rhea.

Despite your pain you perked up at the mention of Rhea’s name although you stayed silent.

“Rhea would like you, you’re quiet but there's just something about you, like there’s a fire inside you.” Finn mentioned, pointing at you. “I would introduce you to her but earlier this afternoon one of her top guys lost her like seven thousand. She stormed off to god knows where. Another one of her main guys has a big match in about half an hour. Going up against some new kid we’ve never seen so I’m sure she’s busy worrying her ass off.”

You heard a scoff echo from the main room as footsteps approached. “Jesus fucking christ Finn! Do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” You heard Rhea sarcastically laugh trying to cover her anger.

You slowly turned to face Rhea, examining her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Reality had finally washed over you. The weight of Rhea’s actions flooded into your brain. You couldn’t figure out if you felt more betrayal or anger in the moment.

“Ah! Rhea mate!” Finn exclaimed, trying to divert from Rhea’s critiques. “I was just telling this young lady how much you’d like her…I never caught her name though.” 

Your face turned to the ground as you tried to mutter out your name. “We’ve met.” Rhea butted in, her voice was fully flat-devoid of any sign of emotion. That’s when the regret hit you. 

You shouldn't have come here.

“I should leave…it seems you guys have a busy night.” You muttered quietly. Rhea took a firm grasp on your forearm, “That can wait, let’s go have a chat.” Rhea said as her head motioned towards what you assumed to be her office.

“No, I-I can come back another time, I really don’t want to be a bother.” You barely managed to stutter out while Rhea’s middle and pointer finger of her opposite hand guided your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “I said let’s go have a chat.” Rhea commanded, her grip on your arm tightening. 

You reluctantly followed the woman as she dragged you in the direction of her office. You knew you were in for it big time.

“You are a fucking insane bitch! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to fucking show up to this place?!” Rhea lashed out at you the moment the latches of her door clicked together. She dropped your arm before shoving you towards the other side of the room. You had been lucky enough to catch your balance as you were just inches away from barreling into the concrete walls.

“I just wanted to learn more! I wanted to figure you out Rhea! Can you blame me for wanting to figure out why you’re so angry and cruel every time I see you?” You said loudly, your voice filled with hurt.

“That doesn't give you the goddamn right to follow me to where I work! You don’t fucking get it, these people I work with are dangerous and I don’t want you getting caught up in this bullshit!” Rhea retorted out as her breaths began picking up speed.

“What makes you think I’m so incompetent that I’m incapable of being around danger?! You put me in danger nearly every fucking time I see you! ” Your hands flew around as you yelled at the woman, tears accumulating in your eyes. 

Rhea began inching towards you, a look of irritation covering her face. “I don’t fucking put you in danger!”

“Yes you fucking do! You have no idea how many bruises you’ve left me with. The other month you choked me till I passed out, yet you didn’t stop fucking me to check if I was okay! For fucks sake Rhea, an hour ago you left me bleeding and collapsed to the floor!!” All hell had broken loose between the two of you as your tears started escaping from you.

“You told me you could take it! I don’t get why you’re bitching and moaning all of the sudden.” Rhea continued arguing.

Your fist crashed down onto Rhea’s nearby desk, “I can take it rough, but you can’t keep disappearing after being borderline torturous! You’re so damn immature!!” Your screaming matched showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“I’m immature? You’re the one that followed me to my job and is throwing a tantrum right now!” Rhea’s voice thundered around the room. 

“You don’t get it Rhea! I’m a fucking person and you dont give a shit about me! Why don’t you fucking care?!” You yelled through broken sobs as you started unleashing your sadness and anger onto Rhea, pushing and beating on her chest. 

Rhea made no attempt to stop you. She made no moves, just allowing you to inflict your pain onto her. 

Once your hands had dropped to your sides in exhaustion and your breaths became heavier as you tried calming yourself down Rhea quietly mumbled, “I do care…”

“But you don’t…” You looked up at her with wide eyes, lifting your shirt. You exposed your aching torso displaying your cut up skin, dried blood pooled around your laceration and the letters of Rhea’s name carved into your skin. “Someone who cares doesn't do this and run away.” You quietly said, your voice strained from the screaming match.

The regret in her eyes was apparent as she darted her eyes away from you. The realization she had gone too far had hit her hard, feeling as if she was being crashed into by an eighteen-wheeler. 

Her vulnerability was short lived, Rhea quickly repressed her display of emotion, replacing it with her regular cold and emotionless stare. She had to put on her tough guy attitude. It was her only safety blanket. Emotions are for the weak, Rhea could never be weak.

“You get worse every time I see you, something has to change Rhea…” You breathed out, trying to articulate your speech as you lowered your shirt back down. “If you can’t fix this behavior I’m done.” 

“You know you don’t mean that.” Rhea sighed as she ran her hand through her black hair. She didn’t want to lose you but she could never admit that. “I need to think about…everything. Just give me a some t-” 

Rhea was cut off by a deep voice from outside the door. “Ten minutes till the bell Rhea.” Rhea rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, “Just give me some fucking time Damian! And go get a roll of gauze from Finn. Quickly.” Rhea demanded after opening the door just a sliver. 

You clenched your jaw as you sensed Rhea’s levels of anger were once again rising. The last thing you wanted was to end up back at square one with her. You couldn’t handle another argument with her. Not tonight at least. 

The pair of you stood in silence as you waited for the man to return. Once he had arrived he opened the door, handing Rhea the roll of fabric. His eyes curiously examining you through the crack in the door. 

“I’ll be out in a minute…” Rhea aggressively muttered before closing the door. She mumbled your name under her breath before walking to her desk.

 “You’re lucky Finn showed up early, only God knows what could have happened to you if one of the other guys showed up before him.” Rhea grunted as she unlocked a drawer and began rummaging through the mess inside. 

What is it about her?

“Why such a dark line of work? What made you choose this of all things?” You questioned, you were terrified to set her off but on the other hand you wanted to push for answers from her. It was the only way to get your foot into the door of her life.

Rhea stumbled her way towards you avoiding eye contact, a tube of antibacterial gel in her hand as she shrugged. “Not something you choose. You’re born into it and can’t escape it, you just have to accept it and make the best out of it.” She mumbled while she lifted your shirt up. 

Rhea applied a small glob of the antibacterial gel to her finger while she lowered herself to her knees, becoming face to face with your shredded skin. The woman began dabbing the gel onto your skin causing  you to let out a small hiss from the pain.

Once she finished applying all of the gel she wiped the residue from her fingers onto her pant leg and grabbed the roll of gauze. Rhea cleared her throat before speaking up, “Just stay in here for a while, I can take you home after this match.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself, Rhea.” You stated, watching Rhea carefully wrap the gauze around your waist.

“I’m walking you home and that’s final.” Rhea stood her ground, “Seriously though, just stay in here. I’ll be back.”

You weren’t planning on fighting about this with her, deciding to keep your mouth shut you let her take the win. “Fine, whatever.” You gave in as Rhea tied a knot in the gauze to hold it in place. 

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.” Was all Rhea had said as she stood up. Nothing else left her lips as she exited the room. 

No apology?

You groaned as you sat down in Rhea’s large chair. You blankly stared at the wall for several minutes before your mind started to wander. Exploring anything that popped into your head. Places, things, people, Rhea. 

If you were being honest with yourself you were doubting the woman's ability to change her ways. You assumed she would most likely be this way her whole life, although you prayed she had it in herself to change. She had the potential to be great if she would put her pride aside.

It wasn't long until the cheers of the crowd on the opposite side of the door had started drowning out your thoughts. 

You wanted to catch a glimpse of the madness. You stood up from the large chair, your feet scuffing the ground as you strolled to the door

You cracked the door open, taking a peek of the ring surrounded by a flock of rowdy men that were yelling. The large man you made eye contact with earlier was in the ring brutalizing a much smaller guy who couldn’t even be older than twenty-five. He was putting on one hell of a fight but it was clear he stood no chance.

Rhea was the only woman there, she was stood right against the ring watching intensely. She had caught your image in the corner of her eyes. Her face turned in your direction, she tilted her head as if she was asking you what the hell you were doing.

You mouthed the word sorry to her before quickly closing the door. 

Fifteen excruciatingly boring minutes had passed, the cheers had dispersed into muffled conversations. Rhea had finally arrived back in her office. She seemed content which you enjoyed. 

“You ready to go?” Rhea asked, you answered with a simple nod.

As the two of you made your way out of the building Rhea exchanged goodbyes with some of the strange men.

The entire walk was silent, the both of you reflecting on the weird night you had been through together. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost peaceful. Having Rhea in your presence when she was somewhat calm was pleasant. You wanted to hold onto this peacefulness for the rest of your life.

It took you by surprise when Rhea insisted on taking you directly to your door instead of just dropping you off in the front of the large building and ditching. 

“You didn’t need to take me all the way up here.” You quietly mumbled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. “Lot’s of bad people around this time of night.” Rhea muttered as your door swung open. 

You turned around to face the woman, her eyes peering over your head, scanning the entry of your apartment. “There’s bad people around all times of the day. I’m used to it.” You said quietly, her eyes returning to you.

An awkward silence filled the air as the both of you gazed upon each other. Rhea began rubbing her neck, “Uh…I should go. I’m gonna go.” She feebly stated before turning away from you, quickly walking down the hall. She had stormed off before you could even speak up.

Still no apology?

—

Multiple days had passed. Rhea had made no contact yet. You spent a concerning amount of time just staring at Rhea’s contact in your phone, debating if you should press the call button. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

She’d call if she cared enough.

It felt as if life had paused, your days seemed empty. The busy streets of New York City felt devoid of any livelihood. The live music that took place at work sounded muffled. The flavor of your favorite foods had been stripped away. Once colorful flowers sold down at the street market now sat dull.

Days just painfully repeated. 

Tonight you had the night off, your only plans were to stare out the window of your bedroom and pray for a text from Rhea. 

You sat criss-cross at the edge of your bed twiddling your thumbs, your mind seemingly empty as you stared into the windows of the skyscraper across the street when the sound of a knock echoed down your short hall.

Groaning in annoyance as you got up you began making your way to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as your feet shuffled below you. 

You weren't sure who you were expecting to be in the hall but it completely caught you by surprise when you swung the door open to see the dark haired woman waiting for you.

Without a word Rhea launched herself onto your lips, the force causing you to be pushed back a few inches.

Jesus Christ.

This felt like more than just a kiss, it had an intense amount of passion intertwined into it. Rhea’s hands gripped onto your waist as you backed into the apartment, her foot kicking the door behind her closed.

She had never kissed you in this way before. Before tonight you had only received measly pecks while the two of you had sex. It was never emotional.

Rhea slowly pulled away from your lips, both of your breaths were heavy as she finally spoke, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally.

“God, I’ve treated you like shit and I have been such a dick. It’s been the only thing on my mind. You don’t deserve that, It’s not okay.” Rhea began rambling as you stared into each other's eyes. “I get it if you never want to see me again but please just give me a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get my temperament under control, I’ll go to therapy, whatever you say I will do it.”

“Rhea-” You whispered, trying to calm her down but she continued her rant. 

“I want to know you, more than just your body. I wanna know everything, The good, the bad, the boring…I wanna know what pisses you off and what makes you cry. I don’t know why I kept you a stranger for so long and I’m sorry for that.”

You led Rhea into your small living room as you listened to her rambling. You took a seat in your chaiser lounge and ushered her to sit in front of you as her speech continued on. “I don’t know why I ran away…I think it's cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I did hurt you, so badly. I don’t want to run away anymore, I had no right to ever hurt you the way I did, just for me to leave you alone right after. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It’s just that I-”

“Rhea!” You slightly raised your voice causing Rhea to finally close her mouth. You leaned closer to her, placing a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re okay, don’t worry.” You comforted the woman, softly chuckling.

“I didn’t interrupt your night did I?” Rhea asked, slightly nervous as she scootched up closer to you. You shook your head no as a smile creeped on your face.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to end up in a heated makeout session, your hands roaming over one another's clothing. Rhea groaned your name against your lips before pulling back just a few centimeters. 

“Please let me show you how sorry I am.” She practically pleaded, her eyes full of desperation, “Yes please” you quietly giggled, your eyes adoring the woman's face. The second Rhea heard the word yes echo from your mouth her lips went straight for your neck, causing a whimper to escape from you. 

Rhea took her time as she kissed upon your neck, carefully leaving soft love bites every so often, marking the skin a flushed pink shade. Her lips only leaving your skin as she pulled off your sweater before she began peckering kisses against your collarbones.

Her hands crept behind your back, unclasping your bra and pulling it from your chest. Your fingers grazed upon Rhea’s tense shoulders as she left a path of kisses down your torso.

As Rhea’s face reached the base of your stomach, her eyes fixated on your face as if she was asking for your blessing. You gave her a nod before lifting your hips into the air, allowing her to slide your sweatpants off your legs. 

 “Rhea, please,” You whined out while Rhea’s fingers toyed with the seam of your panties. Rhea grinned to herself as she slowly shed the final layer of clothing off your body. 

The woman wasted no time connecting her mouth to your heat, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “So fucking beautiful…” Rhea praised against your skin.

Truthfully, her tongue felt like heaven as it worked its way around your wetness. Rhea didn't want to rush you. This wasn't for her, she just wanted to make sure you knew she had the ability in her to change for the better.

Your breaths picked up their pace as Rhea’s hand inched its way closer to your core. Her ring and middle finger traced a circle around the perimeter of your entrance before slowly being pushed into you.

“Shit,” You whined out, your back arching as both Rhea’s tongue and digits worked their magic on you. Although you enjoyed roughhousing with the woman, you undoubtedly appreciated the amount of care Rhea was putting into you.

You were a whimpering mess under Rhea’s touch, and she loved every small sound that escaped from your mouth.

“More! Please, I can take it!” You begged for more of her. Rhea obliged, sliding her pointer finger into your tightness causing you to roll your eyes back as her fingers filled your insides.

“That’s it baby,” Rhea preached quietly when your hips began to rock against her fingers, your moans filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” She added on before her tongue got back to sailing over your clit, her fingers picking up their pace.

Your legs tightened around Rhea’s head as your orgasm quickly approached. “C’mon sweet girl, let go.” Rhea’s encouraging words were muffled, your walls clenched around her curling fingers. 

“Fuck Rhea!” You squealed out as the knot that filled your stomach released onto Rhea’s fingers. Your hips twitched into the air as the fingers inside of you helped you ride out your climax. 

Rhea was grinning ear-to-ear as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your hole. She groaned in pleasure, licking her fingers clean. 

She soon brought her face to meet yours, her plumped lips giving your jaw a kiss before whispering in your ear.

“How’s that for an apology, hm?”

Chapter Taglist: @babybatlover @whiteleoqueen @luvvleah @lovingperson1

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe smut #rhea ripley fanfiction

[pr3ttyb0ym2g]

MANAGER ꒰VEES 𝘅 gn! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳꒱ PART 1: Velvette's Favoritism

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Platonic. In which you're the Vees/VVV's very valued manager, a collection. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I just love their dynamic smm oml. I can't stop myself. Will write SO MUCH more and add onto this collection!!

☆ You applied on a whim, applying for Velvette's social media team, and unexpectedly landed the job. A job you were probably the least qualified for compared to the other applications ☆ And you weren't the only member of Velvette's team of course, there were several others, but as weeks went by, many were fired for either pissing off Velvette or just not living up to her expectations ☆ You kept your job as you never talked back or shit-talked her, doing your workload and pleasing the young overlord ☆ Velvette continued to fire employees overtime, narrowing her attention onto you, one of her now-experienced employees ☆ She came to you more and yet you never scrambled under all the pressure; you remained calm and did your job ☆ Even jobs you never signed up for, like getting her coffee and such. (Those were her assistant's tasks) ☆ Or bat-shit crazy tasks, again, never complaining and just holding back your disgusted expressions ☆ You never noticed, but many other employees began to dislike your presence ☆ Velvette favored you too much now ☆ She began calling you by name and addressing you properly, compared to everyone else, this was a new level ☆ Her other employees were just "somebody", but you were "[name]" ★ "Bloody hell! Somebody get [name] right now!" ☆ Being Velvette's favorite did come with perks and pet names, she called you "darling" more often than anyone else, and treated you with more care than others ★ "Oh lovely, you did just what I asked. Now go rest, kisses darling." ☆ All the attention increased ten fold after her assistant was fired for sleeping with one of Velvette's best selling models, somehow getting an STD and giving Velvette a PR nightmare ☆ You were immediately promoted as her assistant ☆ But becoming her assistant just made your work load much heavier, now you're covering everything she needed you to ☆ Assisting several departments, handling scheduling and shoots of everyone (from the models to Velvette's), guiding the current media staff, and so much more ☆ You followed her like a shadow, you noted everything she said while simultaneously doing every other task that had to be done ☆ Because you did a huge bundle of work and held a great matter of importance, Velvette gave you her phone number as well as access to higher floors of the Vee tower, something extremely personal ☆ But one day you overheard an exchange between Velvette and Valentino, one you realized you shouldn't be listening to, after only trying to speak with your boss about a drop in views

★ "Don't look at [name], Valentino! Don't even think about it." ✦ "What? I didn't do anything yet." ★ "I know what you're thinking, [name] will not become one of your porn stars." ✦ "Shame, they have the body and face for it." ★ "Do not fuck with me. They're one of the only employees I give any shits about." ✦ "Okay, okay amorcito, I understand." ☆ Velvette openly expressed her favoritism with the other Vee, given that they were close ☆ And Valentino was quick to surrender his plan on recruiting you, seeing as Velvette genuinely liked you (more than her favorite models that he ripped up the week prior) ☆ You weren't really sure how to react to that and you never did, pretending you never heard a peep ☆ So you left before you heard any more, not wanting to hear what other unexpected topics would be brought up ☆ Velvette has since never been seen without you ☆ She spoke to you about whatever was on her mind, no longer just asking for something to be done ☆ She would order you to sit with her on some couch and just talk ☆ You felt as though you got indirectly promoted to Velvette's personal therapist ★ "Ugh, and I can't believe that bitch has the nerve to insult my outfit when she's wearing fucking plaid!" ☆ Velvette also wore plaid. ☆ But her defense was: she wasn't dressing like an "old hag", so she could actually pull it off ☆ You sat and listened for endless hours, never taking your eyes off her

☆ Velvette highly appreciated this since Vox and Valentino both had their own jobs they were busy with ★ "But at least you listen to me, don't you [name]?" ☆ You only nodded in agreement, reassuring her

#gn reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #vivzieverse #vivziepop #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon

[peachesofteal]

ok i have a question- for the dead disco fics, if there was a situation where ghost had to choose between reader and soap, who would he choose? idk why im thinking abt this LOL

Hey babe, what is wrong with you? (I love this so much it scratches my angst brain just right) Why do you want to feel this pain? (I too, want to feel this pain...let’s indulge)

Ghost x Soap x female reader Dead Disco - verse AU - not canon to the actual story. Warnings-tags: Angst. Inferred character death. Darling's usual (eating issues, depression, anxiety, despair, self destructive behaviors)

The bed is too big, as it always has been. As it always was before, and during. And as it always will be for now on, too. Your legs spread across it, kicking and swishing across pristine sheets like you're swimming in them, like you're drowning. Drowning, is more apt. Drowning is more akin to these feelings that swimming, certainly. Drowning is how you feel right now, smothered in your loss, lungs full of water, burning from the salt of your own tears. You're at the bottom of the ocean, lost beneath where the sunlight doesn't reach, far beyond the swell of the waves. Drowning is what it feels like, when your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach heaves it's bile free. Drowning is how you would describe this black, bottomless hole that's developed soul, the one that pulls you deeper and deeper with every breath. Drowning. You've drowned. And no one was there to pull you to shore. To safety. No one was there to save you.

"I'm home!" Your bag falls to the floor with a thud as you toss your keys on the island, loosening your jacket and heading towards the dining area of the flat. "Holy shit, wait until I tell you about my day. My boss was on one today, she was being a crazy a-" the words die on your tongue when you finally look up and see the expression on Johnny's face. At first glance, one might call it grim, but for those who know him, who know to look closer, you see the red ting to his eye lids, the rub of drier skin around his nose. He's been crying. "What's going on?" you ask, looking from him to where Simon sits, stone faced. Immobile. Neither of them answer you at first. "Hello?" The knot that's been loosely tied in your stomach tightens. Simon nods at the free chair next to him. "Sit, darling."

There are two boxes, in your bathroom. They sit, full of things, clothing, items, trinkets, pieces of memories, pieces of love. They idle next to your bathtub, waiting, watching you, every time you drag yourself towards the toilet to vomit, or whenever you muster up the strength to look at your toothbrush. The boxes have sharpie scrawled across them, big loopy letters that almost look like mouths, almost look like they could grow teeth and talk to you, or eat you alive with what's inside of them. You supposed, they could. If you were to open them, and actually look at the things inside, they would consume you. Chew you up. Spit you out.

"I- I don't understand." You take a half step towards Johnny, who visibly flinches, face torn fractured with despair, while Simon's lips press into a hard line before he speaks. "We will make sure you're taken care of, we-" His voice is cold. So, so cold it scratches at your heart, pin pricks of icicles working their way beneath your ribs. "Stop." you shake your head, willing yourself to focus. What is he saying? What does he mean? "Simon, what... wh-what does that mean?" "Darling we're so, so sorry." Johnny's voice, is the opposite of cold. It's molten. Hot, and burning red with orange, thick with something you think is sadness. "You are sorry." You repeat it, numbly. You're not crying, which is a surprise to yourself and probably the two of them too. Your brain is really working now, hard. It's compartmentalizing and organizing and shoving little things away, burying others beneath mountains of sand and locking memories into boxes that you'll never be able to open. "You can't. You can't just leave me... you... you promised." Simon stands completely still, while Johnny shifts his weight nervously, fingers tangling with one another as he watches you like a hawk. Like a solider. "This will be better... for everyone." He tries to soothe you, tries to calm you, even from where he lurks, five feet away. Simon offers you nothing. "I don't understand, everything was fine. I thought... we were okay." Simon finally moves, shaking his head with a no while you watch, mouth ajar.

The boxes have been ripped into tatters now. They lay in shreds across the things in the bathtub, covering two t shirts of Johnny's, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of Simon's. Your silk bathrobe, and giant fleece blanket from the couch. There's also a book, a collection of photographs, a few pieces of jewelry. Worn index cards with recipes on them, Johnny's mum's, and a comic book, that Simon used to keep in his drawer of the bedside table. The final touch is the secret pack of cigarettes, the ones Simon used to keep in the closet, sans the one in your mouth. You inhale it slowly, breathing in the tobacco and the nicotine and the fumes of the lighter fluid, the entire contained dumped onto of the collection of things in the tub, waiting for your final flick. When it comes, you stay perched on the edge on the bath, barely interested, unmoving, as the fire rages. As it consumes.

"You fucking promised!" You scream. You scream it over and over until your throat is hoarse and Johnny looks panicked. Simon grips him roughly, sliding him half behind his body, as if to protect him from you. As if he thinks you'd hurt him. They both watch you with stricken faces, hunters tracking a wounded animal, and your breaths come in short bursts as tears track down your face. "You said you love me." It's barely a whisper, mournful and slow, and they both hear it. "We do." Johnny croaks. "We did." Simon counters, and you flinch. "But this is what's best, for all of us. It was always going to be him, darling. You've known this." It was always going to be him. It was always... going to be Johnny and Simon, over you. It was always going to be them, and not you. The truth stings, burns, bites. It twists it's wicked claws around your heart and tugs and tears until there's nothing left. You've known this. You idiot. How could you possibly believe, in the end, you'd still be in this equation? You'd still be a part of this? How could you possibly believe, that after everything, they'd still love you? Still want you? Simon's mouth moves, but you hear no sound. You hear nothing, as you turn on your heel and barricade yourself in the bedroom. You hear nothing, as they knock, and knock, you hear nothing, until the wood stops vibrating, and the front door open and closes with a final thud. It was always going to be them. You've known this.

"Bloody hell." Gaz whistles, eyes locked on the screen. Johnny wipes a towel across the back of his neck, mopping up the sheen of sweat that lingers there while Simon saunters through the rec room doors. "Christ. Didn't ya two live near there?" "Live where?" Johnny frowns, looking up. There's a heli eye view of a burning building on the news, it's entire structure engulfed in flames, firemen barely making a dent. The camera switches to a ground reporter, a pretty woman with a serious face, who's explaining that arson investigators believe the fire started on the ninth floor, where there's still a single person trapped, unable to be rescued so far by exhaustive efforts. Something glitches in Johnny's brain, something short circuiting while he blinks, and breathes, and blinks, trying to wrap his mind around what he's seeing. The ninth floor. Someone trapped. Didn't ya two live near there? The ninth- It's almost unrecognizable, but he knows. Of course he knows. The ninth floor, the ninth floor- His heart stops in his chest, and he turns frantically to Simon, who stands like a statue in the doorway, eyes wide and frozen. "No. Nonononono-" Johnny whispers. He stumbles, away from Simon, away from Gaz, eyes not leaving the television while he drops to his knees. "She- Simon." Simon doesn't answer, just stands, broken. Empty. Like a ghost. He has no words. He has nothing. And neither does Johnny.

#ghost x soap x reader #dead disco #peaches asks #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x ghost x reader

[maddogofshimano]

The Fist of Reason: Majima Boss Rush

Happy 5th anniversary to rggo! hard to believe it’s been this long already

look at our festival boys! anyways lets get into this because I’m very excited

summary:

sometime after the events of Y1, Kiryu gets a call that Haruka has a fever. On his way to pick her up, he bumps into someone familiar...

[One day, some time after the strife caused by the Tojo Clan's stolen 10 billion yen was settled...]

Kiryu: Hello. ...Thank you for calling.

Kiryu: ...Huh? Haruka's got a fever? ...I understand, I'll be there right away. <scene change to outside> Kiryu: .....

<he bumps into someone> Kiryu: Oh, sorry. ???: Sorry? If sorry was enough to cut it, there wouldn't be yakuza! Majima: Ain't that right? Kiryu-chaaan!

Kiryu: Majima no nii-san!? What are you doing at a place like this... Majima: What's so weird about that? If Kiryu-chan's somewhere, then Majima is too! Majima: Outside of that, the spot where ya just rammed into me hurts like hell... Majima: Shit, ya probably broke the bone... Hehe, what're ya gonna do? Kiryu: People with broken bones don't laugh about it. Sorry, but I'm in a rush right now. Majima: Why ya bein' so cold~? We ain't seen each other in ages.

Kiryu: We can talk more next time. Like I said, I'm in a rush. Majima: Too bad! No matter what ya say, ya gotta beat me if ya wanna go!! Hehehe! Kiryu: Tch...! Kiryu: Give it a damn rest already! Haruka has a fever! Majima: ! ........ Majima: What the hell... I didn't know that. Majima: I'm sorry for this. Go on, hurry up 'n' get gone.

Kiryu: .....Damn. <he runs off>

[And then, 3 months later...]

Kiryu: ...I haven't seen Majima no nii-san around here since then.

Kiryu: (I thought he was the kind of person to come back the next day for a fight, but...) Kiryu: ........... Kiryu: (Even if I was in a rush at the time, did I speak too harshly to him...?) Kiryu: (Of course I don't think a guy like him would be dejected from that... Well, it is possible...) ???: Kiryu no ojiki (tl note: ojiki is an honorific that's literally "dad's younger brother" which is used for patriarchs less senior than your own. Nishida usually uses it) Kiryu: ...Hm? Kiryu: You're that Majima Family guy...

Nishida: About that... My boss is going to be put in jail. Kiryu: What...!? Nishida: It happened yesterday... Our family is supposed to be running a festival... Nishida: In the middle of it some thugs started acting up, and they got into a fight with our family members. Nishida: So now they've issued a warrant for my boss, since he was the one in charge... Kiryu: What is Majima no nii-san going to do? Nishida: He thinks it would be futile to resist, so he's waiting at the festival site for the police to arrive. Kiryu: What? Nishida: My boss has been acting oddly for the past 3 months or so. He doesn't have any energy, and seems pretty depressed. Kiryu: 3 months... it can't be. Nishida: And so, my boss really wants to see you before he goes to jail... Kiryu: Me...? Nishida: Yes. He said he has something to tell you, so... Kiryu: ...Got it. Lead the way. Nishida: Y-Yes sir! <they leave> Majima: ......... (tl note: I'm sorry the image of him just holding that pose in that outfit while waiting for the cops to show is so funny to me)

Kiryu: ...Majima no nii-san. Majima: ...Oh, Kiryu-chan, ya showed.

Majima: Excuse my appearance. I was up on a float till now. Kiryu: ...I just spoke with Nishida. Are you really going to jail? Majima: ...Yeah. Orders from on high, can't be helped. I'll be awfully lonely during those years... Majima: That said, I won't be botherin' ya any more, Kiryu-chan. Kiryu: ...... Majima: I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused ya. ...I wanted to at least say that, before I went to jail. Kiryu: ...That's not like you. Kiryu: Are you really going to let your underlings see you leave the outside world with such a pathetic display? Majima: ...I don't really care either way. Kiryu: ........... Kiryu: ...Good grief. You acting this way is completely infuriating to me. Kiryu: It can't be helped, this is a big favor. ...I'll get you all fired up again.

Majima: Hah...? Kiryu: You know the best way I can cheer you up? ...Come at me, Majima. Majima: ...!

Majima: Is this... are you pickin' a fight with me?

Kiryu: Heh, isn't that what I just said? Majima: ........Hee, hehehe! Majima: Kiryu-chan, you're always the best! Majima: Let's get started...! Kiryu-chan!!!!

<event happens, Receive and Bite You is the theme>

Majima: Hehe... As always, Kiryu-chan... you're tough as nails...

Kiryu: Heh... You are too. (tl note: RARE KIRYU SMILING SPRITE)

Majima: Oi oi, you're sayin' somethin' nice? Kiryu: Majima no nii-san... I'm sorry. Majima: Ah? Kiryu: For what happened 3 months ago. Kiryu: I was flustered, and I snapped at you. Majima: ........As always, Kiryu-chan, you're soft as a marshmallow~. I'm astounded. Kiryu: ....? Nishida: E-Excuse me! Kiryu no ojiki!

Nishida: The truth is... My boss going to jail was a lie in order to get you to show up... Kiryu: What? Then... was him being depressed also a lie... Majima: It was aaaaall an act! Majima: I was pretendin' to be put off by how ya talked to me so ya'd feel sympathetic, then after worryin' ya for long enough-- Majima: I'd reveal it was all a ruse, 'n' you'd get pissed off enough to throw down! That was the plan! Majima: It played out a little differently than intended, but, we still had a fight so it's all good. Kiryu: .....Heh, you're such an ass. (tl note: TWO smiles!! unprecedented.)

Majima: What, you're not mad? Kiryu: I had a feeling that something like this was going on. Majima: Then why'd'ya fight me? Kiryu: ...When it's with you, I can go all out in a fight. Kiryu: ...If I really think on it, I guess I enjoy fighting with you. Just a bit. (tl note: THIRD smile!!!)

Majima: !!..... Hehehehehe!! Heeey~! I knew it!!

Majima: C'mon, let's go another round! Hearin' ya say that's gotten me all worked up again! Kiryu: ...Heh, sure. It's a festival, after all. It's a good excuse to really cut loose. Majima: Hell yes!! Let's do this... Kiryu-chaaaaaa~n!!!! Nishida: A-Ah... This won't end until the sun comes up...

<END>

bonus stuff:

oh wow. oh man. that was pretty gay. between this and like a dragon: gaiden: the man who erased his name (lad gai man) thank you ryu ga gotoku studios for sending me birthday presents

obligatory boss rush pic

also a bonus shot of Kiryu’s apartment

the two new cards for this are “Mad Dog of the Festival Stage” and “Dragon of the Festival Band”

and since it was a festival I also put together a very special team to repeatedly kick Majima’s ass 

#rggo #Ryu ga Gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #yakuza online #yakuza #like a dragon #Majima #Kiryu #Nishida #Majima Goro #Kiryu Kazuma

[weebsinstash]

Ok but fuck the people who mentioned abo stuff and omega Miguel to me specifically because I'm over here trying to think of-of- of other ideas that have some meat in them and now I'm just thinking about him becoming absolutely baby crazy in the freaky primal way only omegaverse shit can provide

-normal ass Reader meeting ABO people in the Spider Society and you have no idea what the actual hell any of them are talking about half the time but wouldn't it suck if you still felt some sort of effects from them and affected them too. But. Alpha Miguel obviously 🤌 somehow you make him purr however briefly bc he'd probably get embarrassed and be a dork but you just hear that motor kick in and it's like '👀 oh yall ain't HUMAN human? Idk that's kinda scary but... hot too'. Next thing you know you're finding out about Alphas having knots and you're having inappropriate thoughts about your boss. Also, what if scenting isn't just rubbing necks and such, what if it could be done from smaller touches too, so, suddenly you're sitting there "oh was he scenting me when he touched me on the shoulder" and you may or may not remember how people would often be nervous or avoid you on those days, or be polite but servile, one could day non-threatening, no competition

Alpha Miguel hearing you don't want kids like "I can fix them uwu". One day you realize "oh is he like, courting me" and you're confronted with the terrifying mortality of "holy shit does he want to date/have babies, idk if im ready for something that serious 😳" and also just, him having all these biological advantages over you like he eventually figures out how to tell your emotions by your scent and things like that, you hug the wrong person and suddenly he's in a foul mood and "wanting to speak to them" because their scent transferred onto you

-normal Miguel finding out about an Omega Reader and "no, I'm just studying them for science though--" *suddenly has terabytes of notes about you, your biological aspects, info from your home dimension about Omegas, plenty of personally written 'research notes'* he's just utterly obsessed and fascinated. He learns you're just basically a guaranteed baby machine amd suddenly he's astral projecting himself into another reality, man reads a factoid on how Omega typically have 3 or even more babies and he's sitting there thinking about the two of you with four daughters. Maaaaybe one son but, he loves the idea of all girls, he's just baby crazy for a daughter specifically and he's like "but wait, I could have multiple". But papi, four quinces sounds expensive lmao, lucky he's got that CEO money

-But of course, I'm growing especially fonder of female Alpha Reader and Omega Miguel and like. You're both kind of socially awkward and feel 'out of place', and being atrracted to each other is weird because you both lowkey hate yourselves and aren't sure how you two would work out. What does it mean for you to be an Alpha? Isn't he more dominant than you? Should he... act more submsisive towards you, like, you're both so confused and not sure how to act and also kind of being social recluses. One day you have your whole aha moment where you realize it's kind of a perspective thing and suddenly you cant thinking about him holding a chunky little newborn or having a tea party with his daughters and how, oh wouldn't he be so cute with a baby on his hip

Alpha Reader "I want to see him holding my babies and i wanna love n support him" vs Omega Miguel "I want to cuddle and kiss her while she carries our babies and protect her and love her 🥰" like fjfjff the nuance is THERE

-then there's the juicy idea or "alpha Miguel from a dimension without really any Omegas meeting an Omega Reader for the first time" and he's just kind of head over heels for you (and so is everyone else really). He starts realizing how powerful your "abilities" are when one day you're called into his office to see him throwing things around and shouting about "another hole in the multiverse" and Peter B is like silently begging for you to try and calm him down and you just. Panic and hug him! And you're hugging him and he can get a whiff of your scent and you hit him with the boo boo eyes "It'll be ok, please don't be so stressed 🥺 I'm sure we can figure something out. You're strong, you'll get through this"

Peter B and Jess just like exchanging knowing glances as you get him to settle into a chair and he's still grumbling and irritated but like significantly calmer now and you're just rubbing his shoulders and offering to get him a coffee and giving him a little pep talk amd being very, you know, gentle and nurturing :) totally disarms him and calms him right down, he goes from a red faced screaming mess to purring in a chair as you force idle chit chat about "are you hungry? When did you eat last? Or sleep?" And suddenly he's imagining being at the breakfast table with you and the pups he can easily see you two having together and from then on, Peter B knows to keep you nearby at all times to help calm the big bad Alpha down next time he's about to get an ulcer from stress

#yandere spiderverse #Miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #sinprompts #yandere stuff #ugh ive got it bad