#they break down on the side of the road and all fight over the right way to change the tire. home with pasta by 6.

[sl0t4matt]

Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls

m. guiu | into it

ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o

warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read

“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.

“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”

you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.

before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.

you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.

just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.

you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”

“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”

you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house

…

“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.

shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.

“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.

“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.

“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.

“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.

but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”

“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.

he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.

he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.

he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.

his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.

his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.

he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.

he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.

he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.

#barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #joao felix #fermin lopez #hector fort #marc guiu #pau cubarsi #marcgui

[moonshynecybin]

vr46 road trip they are not making it out of tavullia before the car breaks down (they forgot to get fuel), someone has been left behind(Mig was smart and didn't show up), they are on the side of the road arguing about running out of food, Bezz is having a meltdown that Vale left them for Marc(what does this mean for his future), Cele forgot to pack a bag, Luca and Pecco both brought the wrong maps, and Franky is regretting all his life choices the people of tavullia are watching them going great who's going to direct them back to the ranch and taking bets on how long it takes for them to realize they are still in tavullia

i know i said franky drives but they still absolutely leave him behind at least once he is a canonically chronically late king... cele not only forgot a bag but he wants to pee every three minutes... luca tries to put on a VERY dry podcast and has to contend with bezz micromanaging the vibe on aux with his sad girl italian indie music... pecco is absolutely that bitch with three different navigation apps trying to minmax the road trip even though his ass is not driving....

#truly they drive in a BIIIIIIIIIG circle. which to be fair is a low stakes version of their normal job... #they break down on the side of the road and all fight over the right way to change the tire. home with pasta by 6. #callie speaks #motogp #asks

[sim0nril3y]

I cannot get enough of ghost and his little civilian reader!!! I broke my arm today (boo do not recommend) but now I get to rest and fantasize about my favorite cod men lol. How do you think Simon would react if his girl broke her arm??

Note: oh my, I'm so sorry to hear that you broke your arm, honey. I hope that you are doing okay and that you are on the mend now. Please try to enjoy your time resting and fantising about the wonderful men of COD. I hope that this helped bring you some comfort. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, broken arm, talk of pain, talk of pain medication, hospital talk, canon-typical swearing.

Simon was cursing himself. If he had been quicker then he might have been able to catch you before you slipped onto that patch of ice. Maybe if he’d been more observant Simon might have been able to steer you around it and avoid the problem all together. Hell, if he hadn’t insisted on walking on the side of the pavement closer to the road then it would have been him slipping and you wouldn’t be in agony sitting on an uncomfortable hospital bed after hours of waiting in A&E.

Not long after you’d been admitted they had taken you away for an x-ray to confirm that you had broken the bone, but that was something that Simon could have told them with utmost certainty considering he had heard the sickening crack of the bone breaking. It was a sound that was going to haunt his dreams for months, along with the sounds of your sobs and cries of pain, they had been imbedded into his mind and even now were echoing.

After you had been returned to him Simon kept a strong hand planted on you at all times, as if you were something that could be lost easily. It seemed to deescalate his anxiety just being able to hold you, that was something you even noticed through the haze of the pain relief they’d given you that hadn’t seemed to kick in entirely yet as your arm still throbbed in agony.

“Oi…” You said gently, gaining his attention as it focused in on your arm. Reaching over with your good hand to gently pinch Simon’s chin and force his gaze up into your eyes. “Will you stop it with that face?” You requested in a gentle voice. “What face?” Simon replied as if unaware that he looked like he had been kicked in the stomach over and over. “That face.” You whispered, gazing deeply into his eyes and gifting him a delicate smile, even if it didn’t quite reach your eyes from the pain you were fighting. “Yes, it’s broken but accidents happen-”

In a sharp tone Simon replied. “Not with me.” His brows pinched together, as if internally scolding himself for his short tone. “Not… not with me.” He said again, his voice lower and softer. “Accidents don’t happen with me and especially not to you.” You pat his hand that was gripping your knee tight and leaned back into the pillows finally feeling the pain relief beginning to take some effect. It was just in time too because the nurse had arrived to begin to cast your arm into an uncomfortable position to ensure that it would set right.

After that they sent you away with Simon, some instructions for the pain pills and a sling to help relieve the pressure on your broken arm.

Arriving home Simon helped you through the front door, stepped inside behind you and carefully prying your coat from your wounded body. Then he knelt down and began to fight the knots from the laces on your boots. “I could do that, you know?” You informed him. “I know.” Simon answered before tilting his head up to look into your eyes. “But you’re gonna let me help you anyway.”

Gently you tugged your fingers through his hair and nodded in agreement. Simon helped you remove your boots and then rose up to his full height, glancing down at you as he cupped your cheek lovingly. “Let me get you settled, alright?” Coaxing you to walk in front and upstairs, Simon never took his hands from your body, keeping you clasped so that you didn’t stumble or injure yourself further. “Good girl…” He muttered softly as you entered your bedroom, Simon held you from behind and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your head. “Let me get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

A tired scoff fell from your lips. “I broke my arm and you’re gonna help fix it with your-” “Behave.” Simon smirked. “Fuckin’ brat…” Then shaking his head as he crossed the room to gather some loose fitting clothes for you. They were his clothes. Simon loved seeing you dressed up in his clothes, but seeing you comforted by them after your injury hit him on a whole new level. “C’mere… We’ll get you into something comfortable and then you can rest. Okay?”

Gently nodding your head, you responded with an almost teasing tone. “Yes, sir~” Which earned a tested look from Simon before he carefully began to undress you. It was fine until he removed your shirt, trying to move your arm as little as possible. The movement earned a noise of discomfort from you, eyes squeezing closed and not a moment later Simon’s lips pressed against your forehead. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” He assured you gentle. “Not gonna let anything hurt you. Okay?”

You trusted him. In that single moment you knew you trusted Simon to protect you from any danger that would come your way. There was so much certainty to his voice. There was so much need to make sure that you were never going to be in pain again. “C’mon… bed…”

Now that you were dressed up in some of his clothes Simon lead you to your bed, pulling back the covers and placing you under them, tucking you in tight and ensuring that your arm was raised by a couple pillows. “Here.” He placed the remotes to the TV within you reach but knew that whatever you were going to put on you wouldn’t even last a couple minutes watching considering the way that your eyes were drooping closed now.

“Try and get some rest and I’ll make some food-” “Can you stay for a little while?” You questioned; your tone practically slurred from the exhaustion that was beginning to sweep through your body. “Course…” Simon agreed, moving to carefully slot in beside you, rubbing his fingers over your face, carefully drawing slow lines over your forehead, down your nose, coaxing you further into tiredness. “Can’t… can’t promise I’ll be… be good conversation…”

Simon chuckled quietly, kissing the hinge of your jaw tenderly and then requesting. “Sleep, babe. Get some rest for me.” He heard the way your breathing changed. He felt the way your body sank and your muscles relax and finally he whispered into your ear. “I will never let you fill this way again; I will never let anything or anyone hurt you.” He observing your peaceful slumbering face, knowing it was safe. “I love you.”

Masterlist | Ask | 09-12-2023

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost smut #ghost fluff #1k

[foli-vora]

radio static

pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this gif is a fucking mess but i refuse to fight with photoshop any longer otherwise i will literally throw my computer out of the fucking window. anyway. ep 1 got me all kinds of fucked up. enjoy some porn with very minimal plot.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: very brief mention of something happening but no details and no spoilers. swearing, domestic softness, couples banter, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, brief handjob, nipple biting, creampie

It’s a hazy roll of pleasure, the bliss swimming through your bloodstream and stretching out along your limbs in waves upon waves of static heat.

He’s taking you nowhere fast, instead choosing to take his time, bouncing between leisurely working at your clit with firm, wide strokes of his tongue and dipping lower to force the muscle into your cunt and taste you deeper.

The threat of the climb lingers in the pit of your stomach, curdling low in your core and twisting further with every slick hot swipe and circle over your swollen clit. He’s doing it on purpose, dragging out your pleasure and intent on making you beg for it.

Soon—the words are already building in your throat.

A small part of you, the very small part of your mind that stays aware of what’s going on beyond Joel’s mouth, picks up on the sudden halt to the soft music that had been falling from the speaker next to your head, but it’s not enough to pry your attention away completely, not until the words destruction and mass incident suddenly break through the fog of lazy ecstasy hanging over your mind.

Would that explain the increase of emergency vehicles you’d seen on the roads lately? Is something happening? The reporter didn’t seem to be too panicked, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. It was their job to keep the calm forced into their voices. Mass incident? Destruction? What could it all mean? Were you all in danger?

“Can you turn that up?” You ask quietly, now distracted from the lips that break away from your cunt and press along the heated skin of your thigh. “The news—”

“Jesus,” Joel mutters against you before pulling away and looking up at you, “I’m out here with my head between your thighs, and you’re listenin’ to the fuckin’ news? You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, honey?”

“No, it just sounds important is all. Just for a minute, baby—please?”

He huffs quietly against you. 

Chuckling softly, you jerk away from the blunt edges of teeth that gently dig into your flesh with a startled cry and swat at him. His tell tale smile curls against your skin before he lifts himself up with a low groan, bracing his arms on either side of your torso and reaching over to turn the dial on his alarm radio.

You ache at the loss of his mouth, your clit throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. The desperate clench of your core is almost enough to shove him back down there and forget the whole fucking thing.

He couldn’t seem to care less about what they were saying, returning to licking and nipping at your skin, planting kiss after kiss along your collarbone and trying very hard to pry your attention away from the story falling from the speaker.

He succeeds for the most part, your eyes fluttering when a hot mouth encloses over a nipple and sucks at the stiffened peak firmly, his large calloused hand wrapping around the other and squeezing the supple flesh greedily.

The news… focus. What was that about injuries? God, who cares—

“Joel,” you sigh softly, winding your fingers through his ruffled hair and tugging at the dark tresses, “I’m trying to listen—”

“And I was tryin’ t’have a nice meal, but someone had other plans—the goddamn news,” he rumbles in rough amusement, grinning against your tit before tracing his way to the other side. “You just let me know when you’re done and I’ll get right back to borin’ you.”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you groan, unable to keep the growing smile from tugging at your lips and back arching from the teeth that pluck at your nipple, your features briefly creasing from the shock of delicious pain. “Oh fu—again—”

He does. He nips and bites until you’re squirming under him, your hands clawing at his shoulders. His next bite is sharper than the last and enough to tear a whine from your throat from the harsh force of it. The sharp sting shoots straight to your core, the muscles of your cunt tightening as heat continues to curdle in the pit of your stomach. 

A slick swipe of tongue soothes the leftover ache, the muscle winding round and round the abused bud and all thoughts of listening to the stupid news leave your mind.

Your fingers tighten in his hair and pull, tearing him away from your skin and diving forward to meld your mouth against his. It’s messy the instant his lips part, the kiss full of tongue and teeth with the taste of your cunt still lingering and now melting into your tastebuds.

“Careful,” he murmurs into your mouth, grinding the thick, hardened feel of his covered cock against your core, “don’t want to miss the weather report.”

“Dick,” you moan softly, feeling the soft cotton of his sweats dampen as they drag against your folds, “you know damn well you weren’t boring me.”

His chuckle is low, merely a rumble in his chest, but it sticks in his throat when you slip a hand beneath his waistband and wrap your fingers firmly around his hard cock, the thick length of it swelling in your hold. His hips jolt, briefly thrusting into your grip, and you’re the one chuckling now, your lips curled up against the brush of his facial hair.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

You tighten your hold, brushing the pad of your thumb over the weeping tip, smearing precum over his smooth skin before starting a steady pace up and down his length.

“Fuck—” his face crumbles, eyes slamming shut as the little dent between his brows deepens. “Move your hand out of the way, pretty girl, m-move—”

His fingers shake as they bat your hand out of the way, the long digits quickly wrapping around his cock and giving it one firm pump before lining up with your entrance and pushing forward. You hide your face in his shoulder, muffling your moan against his hot skin as his balls press tight against your ass.

“So fuckin’ warm,” he rasps into your throat, bracing himself on his elbows and encasing you into the mattress. “So—fuck, honey—”

He gives another thrust, pulling halfway out before rocking back forward, soon finding a steady rhythm that has you clutching at his back. The sounds falling your lips are caught on skin, the remaining sound of the muted cocktail of whines and groans dampened by the music now playing again.

“Joel, baby—” you breathe, running a hand along his throat and brushing a thumb over his lips as he works your body higher, his pubic bone rubbing and pushing against your aching clit with every upwards thrust, “—I love you.”

He physically shudders at your words, the cage of his arms hot and familiar. He nods, mouth hungry and messy as it tries to claim yours and you’re desperate to match his energy. The bed starts to give a creak with every steady plunge of his hips, and his hand flies up to clutch at the headboard, his biceps tensing with the effort he puts into silencing the bed. 

“I—s-shit—I love you,” he pants, the hot breath of his sharp exhales washing over your mouth. “I’m not—I can’t—fuck, play with yourself, honey—p-please. Make yourself cum, show me—”

His thighs roll up beneath yours and soon he’s rising away from you to kneel, keeping a hand locked around the top of the headboard and using it as leverage to thrust up harder into your cunt. It’s takes every bit of energy to not fucking wail, one hand flying up to brace yourself and the other falling to where your clit throbs.

He watches, frown heavy and focused, as you press the pads of your fingertips to the swollen nerve, the muscles in your thighs twitching and tensing with the delicious attention. 

It takes only a few circles of your deft fingers to send you over the long built up edge Joel had lazily built in your core, your face turning to hide in your outstretched arm to quieten your sounds of pure fucking bliss. He soon follows after you, urged on by the flutter and tightening of your hot walls around him.

The muscles along his jaw tighten with the effort he uses to keep quiet, his face creased and lost in his own waves of ecstasy as he fills you. Your cunt tightens around him one final time, the warmth of his cum soon seeping out from where his cock disappears into you.

He drops onto his back next to you, automatically raising his arm to welcome you into his side and you press into his body heat, pressing a wet kiss to his chest and trying to calm your breathing.

“Shit, were we too loud?”

You chuckle quietly, rest your chin over the hand splayed over his chest. “She sleeps like her daddy—she wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That you guys are heavy sleepers, and it’s a surprise your alarm clock actually wakes you most of the time,” you grin, the curl of it widening when he rolls his eyes.

The steady blink of his clock catches your eye and you soften, stretching to press a sweet kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling them twitch at your feather light touch. He sighs calmly under your affection, his dark eyes openly searching yours and warming when you catch him.

“Oh, would you look at that,” you murmur softly, “happy birthday, handsome.”

-

i was gonna start all diff tags but i really cbf right now. i’ve just used my everything pp one - if you’re not interested soz x

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16​, @iceclaw101​, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard​, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @timpletance​, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx​, @dnxgma​, @astronomeoww​, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin​, @mando-amando​, @mx-ferelden​, @trinkets01​, @jxvipike​, @thesmutslut​, @thereisaplaceintheheart​, @scentedthingtidalwave​, @mwltwo​, @loveslide​, @artsymaddie​, @untitledarea​, @sukunababe​, @emiemiemiii​, @your-slutty-gf​, @wisecolornight​

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

[moonstruckme]

could you do a poly!marauders with fem reader where reader doesn’t swear at all (or like REALLY rarely) and the boys are with her and something happens and she just starts cussing like a sailor and the boys are like O: ??where??did??that??come??from??

Thanks for requesting my love! This is not based at all on anything that's ever happened to me ofc (I've never cursed even once in my life and am a very attentive driver) but it was fun to write!!

cw: near-miss car accident

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 820 words

“I can’t believe you keep the seat so far back,” you say, squinting into the rear view mirror. 

“Right?” James backs you up from where he’s gently massaging Remus’ knee in the backseat. “Moony, your height is an injustice to us all.” 

Sirius smirks out the passenger window. “I don’t mind it.” 

You laugh, glancing into the mirror to assess Remus’ countenance. He’s usually the one to drive the four of you around, but he’d woken up this morning with his knee aching and none of you had wanted to chance him getting a cramp or tweaking a muscle while he had his foot on the gas. He claims the pain isn’t bad and the rest of you are playing along, but his promises do little to reassure you. Remus’ tolerance is crazy high from years of aches, pains, and injuries, so him saying it doesn’t hurt very much is like when Sirius says he’ll be over in five minutes; he probably believes it to be true, but everyone else knows better. 

Remus’ lips are twisted slightly upward at your bantering, though, and when you scan his face for signs of tension or discomfort you don’t find any. He starts to lean onto James’ shoulder, then shoots back up, eyes widening. 

Sirius’ sharp inhale has you whipping your attention back out the windshield, where another car is trying to butt into the small space between your car and the one in front.

“Fucking fuck!” You hit the brakes and slam the butt of your hand into the horn, letting it blare until the intruding car swerves back into their lane. If you’d hit them, it would have been Sirius’ side colliding with the driver’s door. Your blood pounds in your ears. “What the hell, jackass? Stay in your own fucking lane!” You start to pass them, and the driver hastily puts down his phone, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, how about we stay off our goddamn phones while we’re on the road? Fucking dumbass.” 

You blow out a harsh breath, refocusing on the traffic around you now that the danger has passed. The car has gone completely silent. “Oh no, Remus, did it hurt your knee when I braked, honey? I’m so sorry.” 

A beat, and then Remus clears his throat. “Uh, no.”

The tension doesn’t break. You wouldn’t blame the boys if they were still in shock from your near-miss, but the quiet is a bit unnerving. You’re fighting the urge to look over at Sirius or glance at Remus and James in the rear view mirror, not wanting to take your eyes off the road again. 

You jump when James asks, “What just happened?” at the same time as Sirius shouts “Fucking yeah, baby!” and holds up his hand for you to high-five. 

You barely brush it with your fingertips, hesitant and a bit wary. “What?”

“Dove,” Remus says hoarsely, “I’ve never heard that kind of language from you.” 

“Oh.” Your ears burn. “Yeah, sorry.” 

Sirius makes a sound that’s half startlement, half something else. You chance a look his way, and he’s grinning at you, mouth hanging slightly open. You think those might be stars in his eyes. “Don’t fucking apologize,” he laughs, sounding downright giddy. “That was great! Fantastic! I didn’t know you had this side to you, gorgeous.”

You shrink a bit in your seat, but there’s nowhere to go. You know if you check your mirror, you’ll find two more pairs of eyes staring at you from the backseat. “I don’t usually…well, you guys haven’t been around me while I’m driving before.” 

James guffaws. Sirius has begun to shake with silent laughter beside you. “Do you mean to tell me this happens every time you drive?” James asks.

“Not every time,” you say defensively. “They spooked me.” 

“They spooked you?” Sirius hoots from beside you, and now you can hear even Remus’ quiet chuckling. “Baby, I didn’t know you knew half those words! If that’s what happens when you drive, I want you behind the wheel every time.” 

“Oi,” Remus objects, but there’s no offense to be found in his tone. “It’s not like I don’t cuss.” 

“No,” James replies, reaching up to squeeze at your shoulders playfully, “but with you it’s not usually such a performance. That was a spectacle!” 

“I don’t know why you’re all so surprised,” you say, but you’re giggling now too, worse when Sirius joins in on James’ teasing, pinching at your side. “You all curse like sailors, you were bound to rub off on me eventually.” 

“It’s not like you’re not allowed to curse, dovey,” Remus says. “It’s just that we weren’t expecting it from you.” 

“And what, you’re gonna act like it’s our fault?” Sirius scoffs, poking you in the ribs and grinning when you squirm away. “As if any of us would ever say ‘fucking fuck.’ That’s an amateur's work, gorgeous. Can’t blame us for that one.” 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders x fem!reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[honourdoesart]

Actions have consequences. Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN Civilian! Spouse! Reader) Part 2

( A very quick authors note before the fic- HOLY GODAMN CHRIST. I did not expect part 1 to reach so many likes- Ya'll are absolutely amazing ^^) @v1x3n

Summary: You still haven't woken up after that fateful day, and it's tearing him apart.

CW: Simon being an absolute wreck, Price giving hugs, swearing, emotional hurt, heavy angst, hospital visits, in-accurate military stuff, character death (?)

These past three weeks have been nothing but pure torture for Simon.

You still haven't woken up after all this time, and it was tearing him apart. Whenever he couldn't be by your side, he sat at home, silently crying to himself as guilt crushed him on the inside. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, and he couldn't pretend that everything was normal while you were fighting for your life.

Because of him, he kept reminding himself.

The longer it took, the worse Simon got. He started to make mistakes on the field. Ghost, a well-respected man in his field, was acting like a rookie who just got out of basic training. His head wasn't with the 141; it was always stuck on you. The team had begun to notice as well. Price was the first, of course, knowing Simon as well as he did.

The captain had noticed it the first day he had come back to base. There was something unknown lingering in the lieutenant's eyes, and it was coming to bite him in the ass. After Simon made a mistake that could've caused multiple casualties, Price had enough. "Ghost. My office, now." He spoke sternly after the four of them got back. The lieutenant obeyed automatically, following the price mindlessly. Once the office door clicked behind them, Price turned around to face him.

"Now, you are going to tell me what the hell has been going through that bloody brain of yours." The captain crossed his arms, his form burning with authority as he stared at his lieutenant with hard eyes. "Every since 3 weeks ago, you have been making mistakes left and right." The captain huffed as he ran a hand over his face. His eyes had somewhat softened as he placed a hand on Simon's shoulder.

"Simon, whatever is bothering you, I need you to tell me. As your captain, it is my responsibility that you can do your job properly and keep you safe, no matter if it is physical or mental." It was then that Simon finally broke. He dropped to his knees with an agonizing cry, hot tears streaming down his face as he pounded his fist into the floor. "ITS ALL MY FAULT!" He yelled between harsh sobs.

"ITS ALL MY FUCKING FAULT PRICE! IF I HADN'T SAID ANYTHING-" Strong arms wrapped around Simon as he reached his breaking point, pulling him close as the comforting voice of Price filled his ears. "I got you, son. I got you." Simon's breath hitched as he let himself cry into his captain's shoulder. He didn't care about being professional right now; he just needed comfort.

And right now, Price was the one to give him that.

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

After letting his heart out to Price, he allowed Simon to take the week off. 'You need it more than ever, Simon.' Price had said as he escorted him outside of the base. 'Just make sure to screw your head back on before you get back?' Simon couldn't help but let out a forced chuckle at his captain's last statement, leaving to go back to you shortly after. He had the steering wheel in an iron grip, his knuckles turning white as he drove down the road.

The same road leads to your shared house.

The same road you drove on before-

The booming horn of a truck came from Simon's left, snapping him out of his thoughts as he swung just in time to avoid the crash. His eyes were wide, and his palms were sweating as he looked back at the truck that was speeding off into the distance. Simon shook his head firmly as he focused back on the road, the agonizing voice in his head screaming at him that, in an alternate scenario, you would've been able to come back home safe.

Simon pressed the gas, surely going over the speed limit as he came closer and closer to his destination. He bolted out of the car and towards the front desk as soon as the tired came to a stop, scaring the shit out of the elder lady who was just enjoying a cup of tea. Her wide eyes softened once she recognized the man who had come here every day to visit you.

She didn't even need to say anything as she nodded toward the left, allowing him to proceed further without writing anything down. Gratitude flashed in Simon's eyes as he ran down the halls, up the stairs, to the 4th floor.

He almost stumbled over his own feet as he reached your room, swiftly opening the door as the beeping of a heart monitor met his ears. There you were, still lying in bed with an oxygen mask over your face. Most of your wounds have healed up; only parts of your body are being bandaged up now. Simon's feet guided him towards the bed, tears welling up in his eyes as he once again sat down on the chair next to your bedside.

"Hey, love." He spoke softly while taking your hand in his. "Sorry for taking so long this time." Simon swallowed thickly. "The captain has given me some time off, which means I get to spend more time with you." His body began to shake as his bottom lip trembled.

"I'd love to treat you to lunch. We could go to your favorite place. With the silly black cat, you love so much." Simon's voice began to crack, hot tears streaming down his face as he held onto your hand. "I miss you so much, baby. Please… come back to me." He pleaded between sobs. You, however, remained unresponsive, the soft sounds of your breathing being the only thing to answer him.

Simon stayed by your bedside for the next 5 hours, talking to you and even telling some of his awful jokes to keep the one-sided conversation going. A part of him hoped that somehow you'd be able to hear him. Around 7 p.m., the same elderly nurse who had greeted and helped Simon whenever he came to visit you came into the room.

"It's time to go home, Mr. Riley." She spoke softly. Simon swallowed as he nodded. He stood up from the chair as he bent down to press a kiss on your forehead. "I'll be here again tomorrow, love." Simon moved himself away from the bed, passing the elderly nurse as he made his way towards the door.

"…Simon?"

Simon froze.

His hand hovered over the doorknob as his eyes widened. He heard the elderly nurse gasp, accompanied by a pair of quick footsteps going towards the bed. Your bed. Simon turned around agonizingly slowly, his own eyes filled with shock, as he was met with the sight that he had longed for ever since you ended up here.

You were looking at him, those big eyes he came to love filling with tears as you reached out to him.

It was then that Simon's heart started to beat again.

#simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #cod x reader #HonourDoesWriting

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Panic

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Prompt: Rafe has been clean for months but a call from your boyfriend has you both worried he will relapse.

Warning: Mention of drugs, anger, negative self-talk, Ward

The trees pass me in a blur as I speed down the road to the Cameron’s estate. Rafe’s choked up voice plays on repeat in my ear and I pray I get there in time. His dad is showing once again that Sarah is the preferred child and that no matter what Rafe does that will never change. All that boy wants is to make his father proud and he can’t get so much of a “good job” from him. Nothing else can make my blood boil faster than that man’s negligence toward his only son.

               Rafe called and I could tell that something was wrong immediately. His voice was strained, showing that it is taking all his effort to not break. It didn’t take long for it to. Rafe could never keep anything from me, like the fact he’s worried about relapsing right now. Him being upset is more than enough to have me coming over, but my urgency is from the possibility of him falling to cocaine. I need to get there before he gives up the fight and heads over the Barry’s. He has been 6 months clean, and neither of us want him to throw it away.

               My car barely stops before I grab the key and race inside. I don’t mind the weird glances from Rose and Ward in the kitchen. A little extra furry races through my veins before being replaced once again with concern. If I had more time, and wasn’t warned by Rafe against it, I would be fighting Ward right now in his own home. But my main priority is my boy that is hopefully still upstairs in his bedroom.

               I knock twice but don’t wait for a response before opening the door. My eyes quickly trace each corner of the room before zeroing on him sitting on his bed. His legs hang off the bed and his head is in his hands. Rafe doesn’t move to acknowledge that I am here, he doesn’t move at all.

               I slowly make my way to him, trying my best not to startle him. Getting down on my knees before him I whisper his name and Rafe’s eyes shoot toward mine. They are red and glisining, the surrounding skin swollen due to the salt from is tears. I feel a rip where my heart should be and fight back my own tears at the emotional pain and turmoil he is in. I bring my hand up to the side of his face and softly lean my forehead against his own.

“I’m here,” I whisper not trusting my voice. “I got you.”

               Rafe’s fingers squeeze my hips as he slides to his knees before me. I repeat my words and he begins to aggressively shake his head against mine. I feel him slip away from me. Grabbing his head between my hands I force him to look at me. His eyebrows are scrunched together. Breathing uneven as he momentarily stops to stifle what I assume is a sob. There is a slight quiver of his bottom lip, but his eyes focus on mine and don’t move.

“Rafe baby,” I take a deep breath and calm my nerves. “I can’t imagine what you are feeling. He has no right to treat you the way he does.”

“I’m a fuck up.” His voice cracks.

“You are not a fuck up.” I brush my thumb against his cheek to catch a stray tear. “You are Rafe Cameron. You have a little sister who loves you. Guys that look up to you. There is a whole life in front of you. You’ll make mistakes, and it’s okay. It’s part of it. I do it too. But you are Rafe Cameron. Love of my life. You are not a fuck up.”

               Rafe‘s eyes pierce mine for a moment longer before his body crashes into me. His head presses into my shoulder as that long-suppressed sob emerges. It shakes both of our bodies as we cling onto one another. Rafe wraps the entirety of his arms around me as mine are around his neck. One hand presses between his shoulder blades as my other runs through his hair.

               The clipped sounds exploding from Rafe vibrate to my core and I struggle to fight off my own tears. A few escape and slide down my cheeks as I feel my heart die a little inside. No one deserves this kind of relationship with their father, and least of all Rafe. I think about how early he gets up in the mornings, working all day, getting to know the men, staying after hours to make sure everything is done. All for a man who barely glances in his general direction unless to scrutinize something he has done.

               The rage from before is resurfacing and if it wasn’t for Rafe being in my arms, I would surely give Ward a piece of my mind. I take deep breaths as I turn myself to the situation at hand and focus on Rafe. Slowly his breathing begins to reduce to a more normal pace but his hold on me stays the same. We are in complete silence once his sobbing has subsided. Tears still greet my shoulder occasionally but I think we may be towards the end of it.

“Come on.” I whisper, my voice coarse. I clear my throat softly before speaking again. “Let’s get in bed.”

               Rafe doesn’t say anything but just nods his head as he helps me move. We tear down the comforter in silence and slip in under the covers. I lay on my back while Rafe crawls into a ball, resting his head against my stomach. Immediately, I bring one hand to support his back as the other combs through his hair. Every once in a while I feel a soft moan vibrate against my stomach and a slight smile breaks across my lips. One of Rafes favorite things is head scratches. Every movie night it is inevitable. I love how it keeps him calm.

“I’m sorry.” Rafe sniffles. He is so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. Sorry? Why is he sorry?

“Why are you sorry babe?” Confusion laces my voice and I hope he actually tells me why.

“For making you feel like you had to come. You know… potentially relapsing.” Rafe loops an arm around the front of my waist and softly squeezes. “I’m supposed to be a man, your man. I should be stronger than this.”

Man up, Rafe. You’re going to be man of the house. You have to man up.

               I accidently heard the end of a few disagreements between Ward and Rafe. Most of the time ending with Ward saying something about how Rafe needed to man up, stop being so soft, grow up. While I agreed and understood Ward being pissed when he had to pay off Barry. He shouldn’t have kicked Rafe out, he should have gotten him help. Hung up his pride and helped his son. It shouldn’t have just been me and the guys trying to help him get clean.

“Don’t you ever be sorry. I want you to call me.” I press him in closer to me and I continue to run my fingers through his hair. “It is okay to need someone. Please understand that. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron obx #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #outerbanks fanfic #outer banks fanfic #outerbanks fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe outerbanks #outerbanks rafe #ward cameron

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader, where Eddie presents Reader with Wayne or his friends but they don't trust in reader, but then she proves them wrong, and they're like, she's good for Eddie or something like that? (Maybe Wayne will be more interesting to me personally bc he's Eddie's uncle, but I can completely see the Hellfire Club and Wayne all being like, we don't trust her!)

-🩷

I had most of this written in the beginning of the month but couldn't find the motivation to write the perfect ending. But! I just finished it and hopefully it's an ending that made the story worth it. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻

Young girls and trust don't mix

Eddie was in his 40s and struggled to find anyone. He'd been single for years and never found out what falling in love was. He slept around and never had an empty bed, but there wasn't a spark or anything. He was a rockstar and his life was on the road. He prepared to never be tied down.

It was a shock to everyone when Eddie released to the world that he had a girlfriend, and more of a shock when they learned she was in her twenties. The headlines went crazy and girls were filled with envy. The most wanted bachelor was now off the roaster. And when Wayne heard the news, he was immediately concerned.

He wanted Eddie to find a nice girl and have a family. A young girl? Wayne didn't believe she was going to lead him into a marriage. She was too young for that and Wayne feared she was around for the fame and fun.

~~~

"Wayne, I don't want to talk about this again!" Eddie groaned, he sat on the small couch in his tour bus. Y/N's head rested on his lap as she skimmed through a magazine.

"Eddie, I'm just telling you! Dating a girl that young doesn't seem logical. Look into the future, like five years, do you think she'll still be around?"

"Yes," Eddie said without missing a beat.

"Edward, you met her after your show, right? She's a fan and you know how dangerous and manipulative a fangirl can be." Wayne warned. A conversation both men had over and over. Yet, none of it changed Eddie's mind.

"Night Wayne." Eddie sighed and hung up. He took a deep breath to calm his anger and chucked the phone across the bus.

"Still doesn't like me, huh?" Y/N said as she skimmed the magazine, but her eyes looked up to meet his.

She couldn't lie, it pained her that the most important person in Eddie's life didn't have positive thoughts about her. She understood Wayne's worries and she wished she found a way to prove him wrong. She knew she was young, but there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she'd walk down the aisle to Eddie. She wanted his hand in hers forever.

"I just don't get it! I've been with you for almost a year and he still fights me on it. He thinks you are a groupie since you go to all the shows with me."

"I know, babe," Y/N sighed, she sat up and cuddled into his lap. "but! He hasn't met me yet. Your last show is in Hawkins, then we'll have a few months for me to win him over. He might need to meet me to trust me. All he has is tabloids, of course, he's skeptical."

"But why isn't my word good enough?" Eddie groaned, his face in her neck as he breathed in her sweet scent.

"Because only idiots fall in love." She teased as she poked his side. "He just thinks you blinded, love."

"I'm going to make him love you. Just like I do." Eddie promised.

"Maybe not like you do is a good idea." She joked.

"Haha." Eddie faked a laugh as he nibbled at her neck. She giggled and squirmed.

Y/N vowed to make Wayne accept her.

~~~

After a few more days of sold-out shows and arguments over the phone with Wayne, Eddie's show in Hawkins arrived. Eddie was extra nervous about the show since Wayne would be there and Y/N was supposed to be meeting him. Eddie wasn't sure what he'd do if Wayne didn't change his mind about her. He didn't want to break up but he didn't want to live with the pit in his stomach of the two most important people in his life not getting along.

Y/N was focusing on Eddie's eyes as she applied the black eyeliner when Wayne was escorted into the dressing room.

"There the big rockstar!" Wayne joked, Y/N stepped back to allow Eddie to stand up and embrace the older man in a tight hug. She smiled at the moment as both refused to let go first. Y/N knew how important it was for Eddie to have Wayne here. To see him perform after years and years of not making it. Tonight was the first night Wayne would see Eddie as the rockstar he finally was.

Wayne pulled back with a smile, his eyes never looked to the right to see Y/N.

"I can't wait to see ya perform!" Wayne said the anxiety in Eddie's stomach tightened.

"This is the biggest crowd of the tour. I think I might barf." Eddie admitted. He was terrified. He hated coming back to Hawkins, to a town where he was nothing but scum. The rest of the world loved him, but what if home still didn't? What if he went out there and everyone hated him?

"Baby, you will do amazing," Y/N reassured him, her words caused their heads to turn. Both Wayne and Eddie looked at her with two different expressions. Eddie, who looked grateful and soft. Wayne, looked like he wished she didn't speak.

"Wayne, this is my girlfriend, Y/N." Eddie proudly said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She smiled and held out her hand, Wayne stepped forward and shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir." She said as their hands released each other.

"Right, so Eddie! Where will I be sitting?"

"Next to my girl," Eddie said with a big smile

~

Y/N walked silently with Wayne as they were escorted into the front row of the stadium. People screaming as she passed through. She waved and smiled, being as polite as she could. Wayne tried to not roll his eyes as she soaked in the fame. Another thing Wayne was always telling Eddie about.

"So we'll sit and he gets about half an hour to do his vocal exercises then he'll be out," Y/N said, sitting down in the small chair. She tried to ignore how awkward the air felt. She took a minute to look at the crowd, and it truly was the biggest crowd she'd ever seen.

She and Wayne sat in silence as they waited for Eddie to come on. But Y/N couldn't help but notice the clock struck 8, and Eddie still wasn't on the stage. She tried not to worry and figured the stage management was running behind.

She stood up when Eddie's manager came rushing towards her.

"Y/N? Eddie is asking for you." Eddie's manager said as he whispered into her ear, she nodded and turned to Wayne. "I'll be right back!" And raced after his manager. Wayne didn't think twice about standing up and following behind her.

~

Eddie was panicking. He made the mistake of looking at the crowd, and now he couldn't feel his legs. He sat on the floor, hurdled up, and ate at his fingernails.

"Eds?" He heard Y/N call from outside the door, and she softly knocked. She waited a second before she opened the door, her heart cracked seeing a nervous Eddie huddled on the floor.

"What's wrong?" She asked as she sat on the floor. Eddie didn't speak but moved to be in her arms. It was like their bodies communicated as Eddie began to relax.

"It's okay to be nervous, but trust me, they will love you. They are your fans and here to support you." She encouraged them as she rubbed his hand.

"What if I'm not good enough to be something good in this town," Eddie confessed. He was too ashamed to look up at her and to see Wayne.

"Nonsense. You were always something good. They never learned who you were, because if they did, they'd love you. They'd see how sweet, creative, and funny you are. But this is their chance to treat you the way you always deserved. Go show them what they missed out on."

Wayne watched as Eddie jumped up with a new confidence, the atmosphere of the room lifting as he threw his guitar over his shoulder. He felt ashamed of the way he acted, it was easy to tell Y/N was the best thing that ever happened to Eddie. In a shitty town that only gave him hell and a family that was filled with betrayal. He still managed to find someone to bring his spirits up.

Maybe she deserved more credit than Wayne thought.

~

Wayne watched as Eddie performed his life. And he couldn't help but embrace the energetic energy Y/N brought. She sang every song, knew every lyric, and danced perfectly to every beat. It was clear that she had every part of his songs memorized. He also noticed how much Eddie looked back to her, his eyes landed on her every few minutes. Then a small smile appeared before his eyes moved on.

There was something really special about the relationship Wayne was seeing, and he knew he accepted it right then and there.

~~~

After the show, Wayne apologized for his actions and words. But Y/N didn't hold it against him. She understood where he came from and was happy to have changed his mind.

Eddie was grateful Wayne gave her the chance because the sight of them getting along was the best thing Eddie got to experience.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x female reader #older eddie munson x reader #older rockstar Eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar! eddie x reader #ashwhowrites

[softhairedhotch]

AHHHH FIRST FIC OF COMFORTEMBER YEAHHHH >:D comfortember day one: safe aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader after having a rough night out, you call aaron and he rushes to find you immediately. he fixes you up and the two of you finally admit how you feel about each other. word count: 1.5k warnings/content: mentions of fighting and alcohol but mostly fluff.

comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3 <3

you make me feel safe

Aaron wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing beside him. It gets to the fourth or fifth ring by the time he grabs it and anxiety bubbles low in his gut when he realises it’s you calling at almost three in the morning. Answering the phone, he immediately asks, “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

He’s up and out of bed instantly, throwing on the first shirt he finds and the closest shoes to the bed. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m at, uh, I don’t, I’m… somewhere. My mind is all over the place.”

Aaron’s heart hammers widely in his chest. “Somewhere? Can you look around for me and see if you recognise something? Anything?”

“Okay,” you reply, voice shaky. After a few moments, you clear your throat. “I’m outside the bar we all went to a few weeks ago.”

“The Tipsy Ship? The one closest to work?” 

“Y-yeah, yeah.”

Aaron grabs his keys and runs out of his house, not even thinking about locking the door as he runs toward his car. Jack is sleeping over at JJ's; the house will be fine unattended for now. “I’m on my way. Are you hurt?”

“I think so.”

“You think–” Aaron stops to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before shoving his phone into its holder and slamming his car door shut. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”

“Can you stay on the line with me?”

“Of course.”

***

When Aaron reaches the bar, his heart breaks at the sight of you standing alone outside. He tenses up once he notices that, not only are you alone, but dry blood covers your face, there’s a large bruise forming on your cheek, and the knuckles of your dominant hand are cracked and bloody. “God,” he mutters, running straight for you and grabbing you by the shoulders. He can smell an overpowering scent of alcohol on you and he winces. “What happened? Where’s the bastard that did this to you?”

You point toward an ambulance down the road. “The coward freaked out when I punched him back and thought he needed medical attention. Most they’re gonna diagnose him with is Dumbassery and Stupid Prick Disease.” You look back at Aaron and weakly smile. “And maybe a concussion.”

Aaron can’t help it, he laughs. “At least you haven't lost your sense of humour. But let's get you home and cleaned up, alright?” 

“Can I go to yours? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”

He smiles. “Of course you can.”

***

Aaron holds a wet cloth to your face, reaching out to grab your chin between his fingers gently when you flinch away. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s cold, is all.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, gently dabbing away the dried blood under your nose and the corner of your lips. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I got into a fight.”

“I can see that.”

You shrug, stumbling on your feet at the movement. Aaron gently grabs you by your elbow and shuffles you toward the kitchen counter so that you’re leaning against it for support. Once you’re stable, he begins to dab the other side of the cloth over your knuckles. “It was stupid, really.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” you sigh. It’s quiet for a few moments as you watch Aaron continue to clean up the blood. “He… the guy who punched me… I was on a date with him.” Aaron tenses. “And he kept buying me drinks and told me I had to drink them. I did because, well, free drinks, y’know?” You sigh and shake your head again, letting out a groan when it results in pain. “So stupid of me.”

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid.”

“Whatever you say. Anyway, I think he was trying to make sure I was drunk enough so that he could take me home without much complaint. I don’t know. I refused because I really wasn’t in the, uh, mood, and the night was a bust anyway, and he started… tryna touch me, grab me and all that, his hands were everywhere and I didn’t want them to be and…” You stop to take a few deep breaths, feeling sick at the thought of what could have happened. Aaron feels anger rip through his veins. “Anyway, he ended up punching me and I guess he wasn’t expecting me to punch back.”

Aaron grits his teeth. "Twice as hard, yeah?" 

"Twice as hard," you grin. 

“Good. That’s what I expect to hear.”

You tilt your head at him, trying to read his expression. “You’re not mad at me?”

Confused, his eyes meet yours. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, watching as his large hand moves over yours, his thumb gently sweeping over your skin. “I woke you up.”

“You woke– You– That’s what you’re worried about?” He gives you a fond look. “Yes, you woke me up. But I’m glad you did. Thank you for calling me. And for trusting me to help you.”

“I don’t think I trust anyone more than I trust you.”

Aaron’s hand stills as the words sink in. When he looks up at you, he notices that you’re staring at him with so much love that his breath catches in his throat. He hasn’t been looked at like that in… he can’t even remember. But when he thinks about it, eyes never leaving yours as you blink innocently at him, not understanding his revelation at that moment, he realises it’s the way you’ve always looked at him. With complete and utter adoration. 

As if he hung the moon and the stars.

“Oh,” is all he can get out.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Oh.”

Your face falls and he feels guilt grow deep in his gut. “You don’t trust me back?”

“What? I never said that.” He steps closer, moving a hand to your shoulder and looking into your eyes. “Of course I trust you. More than most people. More than anyone else, really.”

“Really?”

His eyes search yours and he nods firmly, squeezing your shoulder. “Really.”

You look all over his face before looking down at his lips, licking your own as your mouth immediately goes dry. “I didn't want… I… I didn't go home with that guy because of, uh, well, you. I couldn’t stop thinking of you... when I was with him.”

Aaron hums as his gaze drops to your lips. “That’s why I don’t go on dates.”

“Hm?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He inches closer, moving a warm hand up to cup your cheek. “Can I kiss y–"

“Yea–"

And your lips are pressed together before either of you can finish. The kiss is soft, sweet, gentle, and full of so much raw emotion that it’s almost suffocating (in the best way). Aaron moves his lips against yours desperately, holding your face in his large calloused hands as if you might break at any moment, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. The moment your tongue brushes against his bottom lip, though, he pulls back with a heavy sigh. “Shit, you’re drunk. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m totally taking advantage of you and–”

“Aaron.”

“I should know better and–”

“Aaron!”

“You should feel safe here–”

You press your lips against his again, effectively shutting him up. It’s a much shorter kiss this time, but not any less enjoyable. “I do feel safe, Aaron. Here, with you.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You make me feel safe; you always have.”

He visibly relaxes and pulls you into a hug. “So have you.” He sighs against you, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “I like being with you.”

“I like being with you too, Aaron.”

He smiles against you and holds you for a moment more before pulling back, hands still wrapped around you. His heart breaks at the sight of the dark bruise forming on your face and he leans forward to press a tender kiss against the skin, careful not to hurt you in any way. “I wonder how long we’ve liked each other.”

“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, I think.” 

Aaron’s breath hitches at the admission. “You’re in love with me?”

You tilt your head at him, fighting back a smile. “Did I not make that obvious enough?”

“I… didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well, get them up, Hotchner, because I’m in love with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Aaron’s face softens and he presses a kiss to your cheek, sighing in relief. “I’m in love with you, too.” He runs his hands lovingly over your back. “Now let’s get you changed into some comfortable clothes and into bed, yeah? It seems like we have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?” 

He presses another kiss to your cheek. “There’s no other place I’d rather you be, sweetheart.”

tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands @citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl

lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future fics

#RAHHHHHH SO EXCITED TO POST THIS #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #cas writes #criminal minds #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #writing events

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Exes to Lovers Masterpost

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry for how it ended." "I'm sorry that it ended at all."

"Do you still have place for me in your life?"

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"We'll always find our ways back to each other."

"I couldn't stop loving you, even if I tried. And I did try for some time. But it didn't work."

"Seeing you again brought everything back."

"It was a mistake to just go away. We should've fought more for what we wanted." "We are doing it now."

"Being back in your arms is everything I wished for since we broke up."

"I can't believe you would actually take me back."

"Do you have any idea how much I wished to take it back? To just go to your house and apologize?" "I would have waited for you. I did wait for you. Even if it took some time, you are here now."

"I shouldn't have ever let you go away. I need you by my side."

"The fight we had was so stupid and breaking up was irrational."

"We work much better as a team."

"I don't ever want to lose you again."

"It was the right thing at the time. We weren't ready for it." "Do you think we are now?" "Yes, absolutely."

"People called me crazy for letting you get away. And they were right."

"I will never let you go again."

"We were both so hurt that we didn't see how much the other one was hurting. I hope that we're now able to look past that and be able to heal together."

"Honestly? I never stopped loving you."

"Let's never break up again. Ok?"

Text Prompts

Having broken up, but still living in the same area they keep running into each other. At the park, the grocery store, the laundromat, … everywhere.

They are still in the same friend group and they want to make it work as friends. But hanging out all the time makes it hard to get over each other.

Person A moves to another apartment and finds some of Person B’s, their exes’ stuff while moving and the former lovers meet up for the first time since the break-up to exchange the goods.

While not having adopted it together, Person A’s pet becomes miserable after Person B stops being over, so finally they have to arrange for a meeting in a park, like two divorced parents.

They are still each other's emergency contact. Which becomes apparent when one of them ends up in the hospital.

Having their car breaking down by the side of the road is bad enough. Their ex being the one to come save them is even worse.

They had already booked everything for their friends' destination wedding before they broke up. To celebrate them and not lose their deposits they decide to still share the hotel room.

Person A’s family still invites Person B to all of their family events. And Person B actually goes.

They bought tickets for their favourite band’s concert one year in advance. It’s been a few months since their break-up and they believe the emotions have calmed down a bit, so they decide to still go together when the time comes. But maybe they don’t have calmed down that much, when their song comes on.

They know each other best. Even after their break-up their ex is still the first person they want to call when something good or bad happens.

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#exes to lovers prompts #exes to lovers #writing prompts #writing inspiration #writeblr #writing #masterpost #writers on tumblr

[iconicstoner]

i found you

gn!reader x spencer reid (fluff)

words: 1778

summary: You and Spencer have been friends for years, so it only makes sense you went to a local St. Patrick’s Day parade together. However, when he loses you at the parade he realizes how important it is that you know how much he loves you, so of course he confesses.

Spencer pushed through the crowd, fighting to find you. You had been his best friend for years. You’d helped him through the fear his work caused, and you were even there during his addiction. He thought of you as his whole world. You reminded him of why it was worth it to deal with the horrors he saw every day. You were his light in the darkness, and now you were lost in a giant crowd of people. It was packed, and there had to be thousands of people around. It was one of the biggest St. Patrick’s Day celebrations in the entire country. 

Spencer’s mind started to race with different ideas. You could’ve been kidnapped, or even killed. He knew the statistics on that, but he tried not to think about them for his own sanity. His mind flashed with different victims he’d seen over the years. You could be in the same situation as any of them right now, but he prayed you weren’t. 

He called out your name as loud as he could, trying to make himself see above the crowd, but the only response he got was a disapproving side eye from a mother carrying her child. He felt embarrassed but knew he couldn’t stop till he found you. His heart was beating in his ears, and his breathing was shallow. He knew this could turn into a panic attack at any second, and as much as he wanted to break down he knew it wouldn’t help him find you. 

He quickly turned around, thinking he heard your voice, but instead found a visibly drunk man. 

“Sorry about that,” the man said as he stumbled, spilling beer all over Spencer’s shirt. The beer smelled awful, and now his shirt was uncomfortably sticky, but the thought of finding you kept him together.

“It’s fine,” Spencer responded before quickly darting off, still set on finding you unharmed. He tried to clear out the horrific images in his mind, but there was little he could do. He rushed back to where he’d last seen you, deciding maybe you hadn’t gone that far after all. The sun was starting to set, and it put him on edge. When it went dark it’d be so much harder to find you. 

He regretted walking away from you earlier. He told you that he had to go to the bathroom, but he actually wanted to surprise you with a drink he noticed you eyeing at one of the drink carts. He had to wait in an excruciatingly long line, but he thought it would be worth it because it meant getting to see your beautiful smile. When he returned to where you were supposed to be waiting for him you were already gone. Looking back, it was stupid, but in the moment he didn’t think twice. He was an intelligent and trained FBI agent who was carrying a gun, so he felt safe, but he didn’t think twice about the fact you didn’t have any experience with dangerous criminals. 

He pushed through people, standing once again in front of the drink cart. He looked around, but there was no one there. He considered calling Garcia. Maybe she’d be able to hack into the security footage and use facial recognition software to see where you went and who you were with, but Spencer knew that would take too much time. Besides, it would be way too embarrassing to admit he was freaking out so much over losing you for 20 minutes. Garcia knew all about his feelings for you, and he wasn’t sure he could handle her teasing at a time like this.

Spencer noticed the street lamps starting to flicker on. They were the only light left now that the sun had set. As embarrassing as it was, he decided maybe it actually would be a good idea to call the BAU. Or Garcia at least. 

He noticed the diner sitting on the road’s edge in front of him and decided to wait there while he called. Running around in a packed crowd clearly wouldn’t help him find you, and it definitely wasn’t making him feel better. 

The diner had a muted brown roof with big white letters that spelled out Tony’s Place. It hardly had walls at all, as most of the sides were large glass windows. There was a quaint wooden bench outside of it facing the street. It was unsuspecting and matched every other building on the street.

Spencer Walked through the door, hearing a bell ring as he did. The place was crowded, but much less crowded than the parade was. The interior looked something straight out of the ’50s. There were black and white checkered tiles, booths with red leather seats, and a bar where people sat sipping their drinks. He could smell french fries and apple pie coming from the kitchen. 

“How can I help ya, sugar?” An older waitress with dirty blonde curls asked him. She looked tired, and Spencer noticed the pack of cigarettes in her apron. Her name tag read Darlene. 

“I just need a place to sit,” he told her nervously. She smiled at him with an understanding, motherly smile. 

“Sounds great,” she told him as she ushered him over to a booth. It was next to a giant window that faced the parade. He looked around, but there was no one who even looked like you. “Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked sympathetically. It was obvious to anyone who saw him that he was upset. 

“Coffee please,” he responded quickly. She nodded and quickly left to get him a cup. He fished his phone out of his pocket and let out a sigh. He anxiously dialed Garcia’s number, almost hitting the wrong keys in a rush.

“Hello, Mighty Professor. It’s not like you to call me like this when you’re not at work,” she said joyfully. Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond. He almost felt bad telling her what was wrong. She loved you too. “What can I help you with, sweetie?” She asked again. Spencer was usually eager to ask questions and get her help, but now he wasn’t saying anything at all. 

“Well, it’s just-“ he stopped himself, not sure how to even explain it. His leg was anxiously bouncing, and every second that passed felt like an hour. Before he got the chance to explain it all to Garcia the waitress had come back with his cup of coffee. He could see the steam emitting from it and he thanked her. 

“Just doin’ my job baby,” she told him in a reassuring voice. He could tell she was used to dealing with people who were upset, and just this once he didn’t mind being treated like a kid. 

“Who’s that?” Garcia questioned from the phone.

“It’s no one, just a waitress,” he responded. “That’s not the point. I need your help, Garcia.” Even from over the phone, Garcia could tell Spencer was anxiously biting his lip.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“I need help finding-” Spencer quickly cut himself off. Across the diner he noticed you. Even though your back was to him, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind it was you. He knew everything about you like the back of his hand. It was your hair, your clothes, your body. 

“Nevermind. Thanks, Garcia. Gotta go,” he told her before quickly hanging up. He stood up and quickly ran across the diner to you. He didn’t even realize it, but he was starting to cry. “Thank God it’s you,” he said. You quickly turned around and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” You asked, feeling one of his hands around your waist and the other on the back of your head. He held onto you tightly, not ready to ever let you go. 

“I couldn’t find you,” he breathed out. “I thought you were gone forever.”

“Spencer, I’d never leave you,” you respond. He nods and you look at him to see the tears running down his face. 

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the abduction cases I’ve seen before. All those people who died. I wasn’t ready to lose you too,” he tells you. You’ve never seen him so upset before. Working at the BAU wasn’t easy, and he was finally letting it show. You hold onto him, trying to let him know that you’re safe now. You hear his heartbeat, and it’s pounding quickly. His hands are shaky as they hold you, and his breathing is still shallow. 

“I found you,” he whispers in your ear. He pulls away from you just enough to kiss you. He keeps one hand on your waist and moves the other to your jaw, holding onto it as he kisses you passionately. He slowly pulls away, wanting to be as close to you as possible. 

“Take it outside!” An older man sitting at the bar playfully exclaimed, causing Spencer’s face to flush. He grabbed onto your hand, leaving a twenty on the table for Darlene, and led you outside to the wooden bench in front of the diner. The two of you sat down together, the soft glow from the street lamp illuminating him. A few stars could be seen shining brightly above you. There was a chilly breeze, but with how close Spencer was keeping you the two of you were plenty warm. He wasn’t crying anymore. He just sat next to you, admiring your presence. 

“I need to tell you something,” he says, gently squeezing your hand.

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“When I lost you, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the bad things I’ve seen. I didn’t know what I’d ever do without you, and because of that, I don’t ever wanna be without you again. I know dating can be really complicated when you’re in the BAU. Plenty of relationships fail. But I love you so much, and I really think if you gave me a chance this might work, even if it’s statistically unli-” You interrupt him, softly kissing his lips. He leans into the kiss, and you can smell the aroma of coffee and leather that lingers on him. Reluctantly, you both pull away, but only by a few centimeters. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, “did you do that because I was rambling again?”

“I did that because I love you too,” you whisper back. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he mumbles before kissing you again.

He didn’t let go of your hand the entire time. He hoped he’d never have to.

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

a/n: Special St. Patrick's Day post lol! Also, I know I’ve been getting a lot of Twilight requests- and I’m so happy about it!! (and I am working on them)- but I wanted to take a break to write a fun Spencer Reid oneshot bc I love him sm lol

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #bau team #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #penelope garcia

[beautifulfuckup99]

Oc and JK fighting so he is giving her the silent treatment till she breaks off crying thinking he will break up with her 🥲

Him proving her wrong later😍smuttyyyyyy

Awe... Okay, okay!

Title: Gotta Trust Us.

Warning(s): Pouty!Jungkook, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort S!x

Author's Note: Enjoy!

*******************************************

"How could you not tell me?" Jungkook whispers as he sits on the couch. You felt exhausted. This fight had been going all night since you got back from the damn company dinner. From the walk to the parking lot, to the ride home, to right now that you two stepped into the loft apartment. You knew you should've skipped the damn dinner...

"Because..." You shift a bit, not having a clear-cut reason why you kept Jungkook in the dark...

"Because why? How could you do this to me, Y/N? I had to find out about you leaving from all your co-workers? I was the only dummy there who was clueless!" He states.

"I never said I was leaving!" You defend fast.

"Really? Your boss sure thinks so." He states. "Those emails sure say so. That damn letter your boss handed you at dinner tonight confirming you got an interview for the Thailand branch sure as hell shows you're leaving." Jungkook says as he stands up now.

"Nothing is set in stone! I... I was just considering it. Why would I tell you something I hadn't even decided on yet?!" You try, getting fed up with this already. It's like you two were going in circles...

"Because I'm your boyfriend! For four years we've been a team. You and me. You can't just make these damn decisions without me!" He says.

"Bullshit, Jungkook! This is my career! This is my cooperate ladder I'm trying to climb and it has fuck all to do with you!" You say without thinking. Jungkook stares at you and you freeze up, seeing the hurt clear in his eyes.

"I-I just meant-" He cuts you off.

"No. It's you're life. Why should I have a say..." He mutters before heading to the bedroom and coming back with a blanket and pillow.

"You're... Kicking me out of the room now?" You ask in shock.

"No. I'd never do that." He mutters before setting up the couch for himself. You roll your eyes.

"Baby, stop this. Think of your back." You try as he lays down on his side so his back is to you. You open your mouth but groan softly instead.

"You know what? Fine. Goodnight, Jungkook." You huff and walk off towards the room.

This would be over in a day...

You just had to sleep it off.

**********ONE WEEK LATER**********

"Hey, baby. I made dinner." You try the second your boyfriend walks into the apartment. He doesn't even glance your way, walking past the kitchen and to the gym. You sigh at his attitude, annoyed by it already.

"Damn. That whole apartment turned cold." Your best friend says with a shiver to prove her point. You look over at the laptop you had open to Skype so you could talk to her about this entire situation.

"I fucked up. I really fucked up, Tess..." You sigh as you sit back down. You should've told Jungkook your news before it happened, but... It all happened so fast...

"How's work been?" She asks and you roll your eyes.

"Just as good as home life?" She tries and jokes and when you give her a look, she instantly stops. "Sorry, Y/N..." She says gently.

"My boss is pushing me to go to Thailand for that damn interview. I-It's a higher position, you know? With more money, an actual office of my own, better vacation time. I just... I don't wanna leave until I have Jungkook on board, and he hasn't talked to me in a week!" You rant on as your friend just nods along, listening casually.

"I just... I don't want this relationship to end..." You whisper, feeling your heart ache with fear.

"Whoa, whoa! Who said that?" Tess asks in shock, and you look down. "Come on, don't act like that. You two are practically married! You've been going strong for so long! It's just a bump in the road." She assures fast, but you shake your head.

"This feels different. I... He's really mad at me. God, this place feels like my childhood home." You scoff bitterly as you try and blink away some tears. You never wanted the relationship your parents had. You always thought Jungkook would show you the right way to love. And he has. But this? This little 'bump in the road'? You've seen it before with your parents. And you knew how it ended.

"You're spiraling. Y/N, you guys are not like your parents." Tess tries as your bottom lip quivers slightly.

Tess watches with a deep frown before sitting up more. "Why don't you get out of there for a bit. Hm? Come visit me. Distance might help." She tries and you wave a hand at the thought.

"That's running away. I don't do that. I... I can't do that." You state. You couldn't be like your father, running off the second things got tough. You had warned Jungkook when you first got together; you love hard. You stay, you fight, you're loyal. But here he was, shutting you out.

"Think about it, Y/N. You don't have to deal with a grown man's tantrum." She says before you two end the call. You breathe deeply and shake it off.

**********LATER THAT NIGHT**********

You lay in bed, prepping yourself to lay down when you first hear it. A clash of thunder rumbles the loft, startling you in the process.

You gasp loudly and feel every fiber in your being freeze up. "Fuck." You breathe out and shake your head as you try and settle yourself. You look towards the bedroom, waiting to see Jungkook come rushing in like he always did during a thunderstorm. He knew your fear of them. He knew to always drop whatever he was doing to rush in and hold you. But... You hear nothing but the heavy rain.

No footsteps rushing to the bedroom door. No call from him asking if you were okay. Nothing. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. He really was mad.

Was it actually over?

*********************************************

The next day you stand in front of your suitcase on the bed. Were you really doing this? Were you really leaving? You sigh deeply and decide to just get it over with.

You'd be staying with Tess for a bit while you prepped for your interview in Thailand. As you're zipping up your suitcase, you hear the front door open and curse softly to yourself. You thought you'd have more time before Jungkook came home. He should've been distracted at the dog park with Bam all day.

"Whatever." You try and whisper to yourself. He wouldn't care...

Bam comes running in like he usually does after being away all day. He was always so ready to greet you. You pat his head, a frown on your face. You'd miss him.

As you're walking to the hallway, you freeze in your steps when your eyes meet Jungkook since he was in the middle of walking to the gym.

He notices the suitcase in your hand, and you watch his eyebrows raise. "What... What's this?" He asks and you want to laugh. Now he talks?!

"I'm leaving." You whisper and he blinks a bit in shock.

"Y/N. Y-You... You can't be serious..." He tries.

"Deathly." You state. "I-I can't be stuck in a house with a man who... Who wants nothing to do with me. You don't love me anymore, and I... I'm jumping ship before we both drown. I'm tired of going to bed alone." You say as you try to move past him.

"Jumping ship? What? Y/N, stop. I... Of cruse I love you!" He says as he grabs your arm as you shrug him off.

"No! You don't! You've been... Ignoring me all week! I... You wanna break up, I know you do." You say, eyes willing up as Jungkook stares at you in disbelief.

“Y/N. Don’t… Don’t leave me.” Jungkook tries as you stare at him, eyes hard. You couldn’t be here right now.

“You’ve been ignoring me just fine this whole week. Me being gone shouldn’t change much.” You mutter as you yank your hand away and walk off.

***********************************************

"Cheer up, Y/N. Things could be worse." Tess tries as you two lay side by side in her guest bedroom. You can only manage a soft 'mm' noise in response. You didn't trust your voice right now. And your eyes were distracted thanks to the window by your bed, watching the rain pour down. Damn this two-day storm...

You hadn't broken down yet, which you assumed was thanks to your brain not fully grasping the fact that you'd have to move on in life without your 'golden retriever in black cat makeup' boyfriend by your side. You're pulled out of your thoughts by a frantic knock on the front door.

"Who is-" Tess quickly cuts you off.

"I'll get it!" She smiles widely and rushes off. You sit up in confusion as your friend dashes out of the room. What the hell?

You hear the door open and Jungkook's voice carries through the modest apartment. "She's here?" He asks to confirm, and you roll your eyes. Of course, Tess would give you up.

You get up from the bed to try and shut the bedroom door, but Jungkook is faster. His hands press firm on the door, stopping it from closing. You two meet eyes for a moment, and it softens you for a second. A second that Jungkook takes advantage of by pushing on the door.

He's soaked. Drenched to the bone and his bottom lip is trembling slightly. No doubt he's cold. And yet he stands in front of you, shoulders squared.

"Y/N, come home." He tries, tone shaky towards the end.

"No. Did you run here? Why are you wet?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself as you eye him up and down.

"Traffic." He says and you pause. Did he get out of his car and run here in the pouring rain?! No! That's ridiculous...

"Jungkook, it's late. I want-" He cuts you off as he makes quick work of his jacket.

"What are you doing?" You sigh softly as you can't help but stare at his toned arms as he winces while taking off the wet black t-shirt that clung to his body.

"Jungkook!" You try hissing to stay strong, but that's when you notice a white bandage wrapped around his left side waist, a little under his chest.

"W-What..." He grabs your hand to pull you closer. You're too confused and concerned to stop him. He pulls your hand to the bandage.

"Take it off." He whispers. You look up at him and then slowly peel the bandage off. You gasp softly as you see the brand-new tattoo on his skin. As you read the words, it dawns on you. This wasn't just any tattoo. This was from your first date.

You and Jungkook had been set up on a blind date, and when you got to the bar and grill, you two sat in the booth not really knowing how to keep the conversation flowing. You were both so shy. At a certain point, Jungkook started writing on a napkin. You two went through all the napkins on the table and actually had to ask sheepishly for more at a certain point.

He'd gotten your last napkin conversation tattooed on him...

'This place is about to close...' He had written and passed it to you. It had made you blush when the realization dawned on you. You'd been here for hours...

'Guess so. Is this you saying goodbye?' You had written back...

'Nope. How long do you think we can keep this date going?' He wrote.

'Jeon Jungkook. Are you hinting at a night cap?' You wrote. You can remember this soft chuckle he'd let out as his tongue messed with his lip ring for a bit while he decided on how to respond.

'What if this date just never ended? How long could we keep it going?' He wrote.

'A week.' You wrote back and stared at him head on. He had frowned a bit at your pessimistic answer, but still responded.

'I think we could go for years...'

'Smooth. You're dangerous with words.'

'I'm also right.'

'Confident. And if you're wrong?'

'Is this turning into a bet? You know I'm competitive...'

'Bring it.'

You had sealed it with your kiss mark which had also been tattooed on him. You stare at the tattoo. "T-Th... That's permanent." You try quietly, in awe.

"Good. You're on me forever." He says as he puts your hand on his chest. You look into his eyes. "I was so stupid. I was childish. I just... It hurt me. You saying I had nothing to do with your job... It's true, but... Y/N, I see us as a team. I-I should've been told about this job opportunity." He says and you sigh softly, shoulders slouching.

"I'm sorry. I was just... I wanted to think it through before I bothered you with it-" He cuts you off.

"It's never a bother." He says gently. "I love you, Y/N. And I'll love you here, and I'll love you in Thailand, and I'd love you on the moon and back, because... I meant what I said that night. We can go for years. And-" You cut him off, grabbing his chin to pull his head down to meet your lips, kissing him deeply.

He kisses you passionately, hands gripping your waist as the kiss turns hungry extremely fast...

It makes you moan. Finally being able to get this kind of attention...

Your hands go to his wet hair as he backs you up against the bedroom door, your hands careful as they move down his body to get to his belt.

"Wait. I wanna... Apologize." Jungkook pants before kneeling in front of you. You blush hard, but let him yank your sweatpants down, eager for more.

With your pants tossed somewhere in the room and your right leg over his shoulder, Jungkook gets to work. He looks up at you as he tenderly brushes his lips against your pantie covered pussy. You hum as your eyes shut, hand resting on top of his head as he pulls your underwear to the side and kisses your clit.

His skin was so cold from the rain, but it felt so good to feel his lip ring against your clit...

He opens his mouth and starts tongue flicking your clit slowly, just to feel it twitch against his tongue. He loved that feeling and it never took long for you to give that to him...

You feel his tongue begin to move all around your clit and it takes you a moment to realize what he's doing...

'I'

'A'

'M'

I A M... I AM?

'S'

'O'

'R'

S O R?

'R'

'Y'

You groan as your eyes roll back, grinding against his tongue as he repeated spells out 'I AM SORRY' against your clit over and over again, not letting up even when you start practically humping his face...

"I-I'm gonna... Oh god!" You cry out softly as you fall apart as Jungkook holds you up against the door to help you ride out your orgasm...

As you shiver while coming down from your high, you feel Jungkook kiss up your body. "Good girl..." He pants.

He picks you up and you gasp at the suddenness...

"Slide down on my cock, baby. It's missed you..." He whispers against your lips as you moan in agreement, raising your hips as much as you can to nudge his tip.

"S-Stay quiet. Tess-" Jungkook cuts you off.

"She can cover her ears. Don't fucking keep quiet. I wanna hear you say my name..." He whispers as he slides into you fully, which makes you melt.

He kisses along your neck hungrily as he starts fucking you against the bedroom door, making you give in to his request.

"Jung... Jungkook..." You whine softly, move closer to pant and gasp in his ear to drive him wild. He groans and bites down on your pulse point, making you cry out, nails digging into his arms and legs tightening around his waist.

"Deeper!" You manage to grunt out through clenched teeth as he wraps a hand in your hair to yank your hair like you like.

He carries you right to the bed and throws you on it, making you giggle as you try to catch your breath.

"Ass up." He whispers and you smile at him.

"Make me..." You whisper. It makes him chuckle as he rubs his face, amused.

"Feeling playful? Hm, baby?" He whispers before he grabs you and puts you right in that position. It makes you giggle bashfully. He moves behind you and you feel him lean over you fully, nuzzling into your ear.

"You forgive me, baby? Hm?" He whispers as he teases your entrance, making you shiver in anticipation.

"Say it, baby..." He whispers and you turn your head to catch his eye.

"Fuck, yes..." You whisper, catching his lips in a deep kiss that's cut short when he thrusts right back into you. You bite down on the sheets as he focuses on fucking you faster and deeper like you'd begged for.

It doesn't take much to build you up again, especially sing his fingers were working over your clit firmly as he pounded you.

"I-I... Yes!" You cry out as he kisses along your face while deep inside of you.

"That's it, baby. You can do it. Cum again..." He whispers in your ear and makes you look at him as your eyes struggle to stay open.

"I love you. I love you..." You whine, so settled in this moment as he works you up. You orgasm hits you hard and Jungkook moans as you squeeze his cock while cumming.

You pull off of his cock fast and turn to suck it clean of your juices, looking up at him as his thick member fills your mouth.

"Oh, baby. Fuck yes..." He pants, head going back and eyes shutting in pleasure as he holds your hair lazily. "Y/N. I-I'm gonna cum. Oh baby, you're fucking perfect..." He praises as you go faster, never using your hands because you knew he got more excited when you worked him with your throat...

"S-Stay... Stay like that, baby. God, I love you..." He groans as he starts to use your mouth as you moan loudly around him so he can feel the vibrations. "Fuck!" He moans as he cums in your mouth, holding your head still so you take every drop.

You moan as you suck hard, wanting every drop. He pulls out and grabs your chin. "Let me see you swallow." He pants, looking at you with dark eyes full of need. You smile as you open your mouth to show him the cum on your tongue before you swallow. He groans.

"Fuck. You were so right, I was wrong. I'm always in the wrong. Don't ever leave me..." He whispers as you blush hard at swat at his chest playfully.

"Dummy..." You mutter before leaning up and kissing him.

"Let me hold you. I can never make up for leaving you to face that thunderstorm alone yesterday... But I can be here now. And for the rest of our lives." Jungkook whispers. You hum.

"Smooth. You're dangerous with your words..." You whisper and he smiles softly, resting his forehead against yours.

"I'm also right." He says and you look at him, the fear clear in your eyes.

"And if you're wrong?" You ask gently. He takes a moment to really look at you, hands holding your face.

"You've gotta trust... That I'd never let you slip away." He says back and you carefully wrap your arms around him, head on his chest as you shut your eyes and breathe deeply.

You'd hold him to that...

****************************************

Hope you liked! Also, I'm thinking about starting up a new series. Tell me what you guys think...

#bts #bts fic #bts army #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (2 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, briefly implied future physical injury, protective / possessive Soap, hand job, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You and Soap might no longer be together, but he is your "safe space", and you need to vent. While raging over the phone about your boyfriend, Soap arrives at your door.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

The anger and hurt in your voice are the only fuel John needs.

You have no idea that he is already on his way to you, that he hooked your phone call up to his helmet. That, even now, John is on his sportbike zooming down roads and weaving around cars in an effort to get to you.

There is a fire under his skin. It burns away all other concerns. Every word you speak is a blown furnace, the destruction mounting until each utterance infuriates him further. This “boyfriend” of yours, the one you started seeing after the two of you broke up, deserves a fucking sharp punch to the jaw. He deserves missing teeth and broken bones.

Men like him aren’t men at all. They’re rubbish, only valuing women as objects, seeing them as their housekeeper and not their partner.

In his ear, you’re hardly taking a breath. Your words are a stream of consciousness, each word angrily pushing into the other until it’s a jumbled mess. John listens to it all, using that as motivation to get to you. It’s doesn’t fucking matter that you’re not his anymore.

John still cares. He still loves you. The need to protect and defend you is innate. One teary-laced word was enough for him to drop everything and head in your direction. Doesn’t matter that you and he ended things a bit messy. It was simply complicated. The two of you needed to work a few things out but broke it off because that was the easy thing to do.

He regrets that. He regrets not fighting. Not getting his shit together.

The engine revs, and John turns onto your street, almost throwing himself off his bike to get to your front door. In one hand he’s holding his helmet. In the other, he’s holding his phone, the device pressed to his ear as you keep talking. Reaching out, he pounds on the door.

You immediately pause on the other side of the phone. “There’s someone at my door,” you murmur, voice slightly distant.

“I know,” he replies. “It’s me.”

Silence on the other end. But then he hears it—the familiar click of a lock. Following that is your front door opening, revealing you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Your momentary shock slips, dipping into confusion.

“What are you—” you begin but promptly stop as John pushes past you and into the flat.

“Is that fucker here?” John strides into the kitchen, placing his helmet down on the counter before ending the phone call and slipping the device into his back pocket.

“John.”

He glances down the hallway and then turns to you. “Is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He’s not here.”

John’s chest heaves with relief, some of the tension receding.

“John,” you repeat, the concern in your voice enough to smother some of that fire burning beneath his ribcage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks softly, approaching.

His gaze roams up and down your body, searching for signs of injury. There is none, at least not that he can see. That doesn’t mean there aren’t marks somewhere hiding beneath the clothes. The very thought fans the flames, charging John’s nerves until they crackle like lightening.

“No, Johnny. I’m fine.”

Johnny.

Only two people are allowed to call him that and one of them is standing right in front of him. The use of it, the way it falls from your lips, is enough to slightly quiet the anger. He sighs, expelling some of that smoky frustration. But then his gaze flicks to a spot just over your shoulder, and a new feeling emerges.

There are fist-sized holes in the wall. Four of them. Much too large to be your hands.

“What the fuck are those?” John’s voice drops as he nods toward them.

The sadness that forms on your features nearly rips his lungs from his body. John has never seen you like this. Never this defeated.

“They happened after,” you answer.

“After what?”

“The argument.”

You and John have had your fair share of arguments, but he’s never punched a wall. He’s never thrown anything or threatened you.

Never. Fucking never.

No. Fuck this guy.

“You’re breaking up with him.”

“What?” you ask, flustered by his sudden outburst.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. To kiss your lips. To be in your presence.”

You deserve so much more than whatever this fucker is providing. Which is apparently nothing served alongside fist-sized gapping wounds in the plaster.

Your mouth opens like you’re about to reject the idea, but it’s not a suggestion. You are breaking up with him. You will leave him even if that means John doesn’t get to have you. That’s fine. That’s okay. He can live with that. What he can’t live with is knowing you’re with someone who treats you like rubbish.

He needs to get this off his chest, to make you understand that you are entitled to more.

“I listened the whole way here and you know what I heard?” He pauses and notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip. “That you’re unhappy. Have been for some time.”

You blink and fresh tears form there. John has to bite back the instinct to kiss them away. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

He licks his lips, a large sigh leaving him as he points over your shoulder. “He treats you poorly.” John’s hand slices through the air. “Walks all over you. Doesn’t answer you for hours and then gets angry with you when he finally makes contact.”

As John talks, even he can hear his voice thickening. This always happens when he gets worked up, and you’ve always playfully teased him about it.

“He’s a fucking waste of space.”

“John—”

“Break it off. And—fuck. If you can’t face him, then let me do it.” He places his hand on his chest. “Allow me to defend you.”

Your features soften and John wants to drink it in, to remember the way you’re currently looking at him. He remembers this side of you, the one that easily pierces him like a needle breaks skin. A look like this will put John on his knees if you ask him to.

“Johnny.”

He’s done. Gone. There is no coming back from this. Whenever you say his name like that, you’re either annoyed with him, wanting him to listen, or you’re just about ready to kiss him. It momentarily rips away all the thoughts in his head, leaving him temporarily mute before his brain can catch up again.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping the sides of your face. “Get rid of him. I—I know you don’t want me but fucking hell. Don’t pick him. Don’t—”

John is silenced.

Not by your words leaving your mouth but from your lips pressing to his. It startles him—shocks him that you’re kissing him. Leaning into him. John responds, kisses you back, his tongue exploding with the remembrance of your taste.

But you’re still not his. You belong to someone else still and this isn’t right, no matter how much he fucking hates it.

“Stop, love,” he murmurs, pushing on your shoulders.

John loathes telling you to stop. To move away from him. Doing so is like fish hooks caught in the skin. He wants to reel you right back in, to taste your lips again, and fall into memory.

“I ended it,” you reply softly. “It’s over. That’s why there are holes in the wall.”

John pauses, his gaze growing serious. “What?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t like that I wanted him to leave. That I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Your fingers dig into the back of John’s neck and that one touch is enough to dissolve his resolve about not kissing you into dust.

He closes the distance, and you welcome him in, opening beautifully.

“Am I your rebound?” he teasingly asks between kisses.

You laugh against his lips and kiss him again. “Why did I ever leave you?” Your question is a sad murmur tinged with a regret that leaches off your words and floods into his heart.

“Because I was an asshole.” He believes these words completely but you’re shaking your head.

“No,” you reply. “You weren’t. Never that.”

The kisses between you, which at first were soft, quickly develop into deeper passion, twining like a spool of thread around a bobbin. John drags you against him, tasting over and over until you are imprinted on his memory.

Your arms drape over the back of his neck to pull him even closer, and John snaps. That gentle resolve is gone. He needs you.

Reaching down to cup your ass, John lifts you off the ground until your legs naturally wrap around his waist. He knows where the bedroom is but that’s too fucking far. The desire writhing between and around his bones is a blood-beast. A feral thing that calls out for your skin against his.

Setting you down on the counter, John shoves his helmet out of the way. You’re already reaching for him, undoing the front of his pants, slipping in to palm him. The inhale you make when your fingers wrap around his cock is sweet and John breathes it in as if that one sound makes up his entire lifeblood.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s going to taste you everywhere. His lips and teeth will mark your skin. His tongue will find a home between your legs. You’ll forget this fuckers name. He just needs a few hours and it’ll be his name you’re screaming.

You stroke him again, and John drags you right to the edge of the counter, intending to sink to his knees to worship between your spread thighs.

Your knees lock at his hips and with another stroke of your hand, you tell him what you want. “I need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

You ask so sweetly. He can’t say no. He doesn’t want to.

John helps you ease his pants down to his thighs. When he goes to undress you, he only finds underwear under that large, oversized shirt.

“Fuck, love.” John’s finger drags that fabric aside and he groans at the sight.

You’re already wet. Aching. Ready for him. Begging him to bury himself inside.

This one will be quick. It’ll be rough and he’ll probably fucking spill within a minute, but he has the whole night to take you over every surface in this flat, to make you writhe and moan beneath him.

Placing one hand on the counter and one on your thigh, John starts to ease in. Inch by inch, slowly, he disappears until there is nothing left for him to give. He has a perfect view of how you stretch around him. How you slightly clench and unclench, the pleasure of it shooting to the base of his spine.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmur as Soap begins to thrust into you.

“Never,” he replies, nuzzling the side of your face as you pepper him with kisses.

John anchors himself, snapping his hips, chasing the end just so he can get you back into that bedroom to do so much more.

“You’re mine,” he groans as your fingers dig into his skin, pulling him closer. “Always have been.”

taglist:

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[dwonfilm]

There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.

Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Flashbacks are in bold.

Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.

No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.

It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.

It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..

“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”

Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.

“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”

Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”

Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.

Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.

Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.

“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”

Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”

Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.

“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”

It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.

“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.

Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”

“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”

Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”

Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

[rustedhearts]

the incident ♡ pt ii (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: in the aftermath of your fight with steve, you appear on the munsons’ doorstep in search of shelter and a friendly face. the munsons get a glimpse of the real you—and the version of steve hiding behind closed doors.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ part i, part iii ✶ the king of the ring ✶ main masterlist

the rockstar eddie setlist by @carolmunson

tags: angst, hurt (practically no comfort), stella and libby being besties, violence, a whole lot of crying, talk of domestic abuse-ish stuff.

malibu california, november 1992. the munson residence.

The Mustang's tires squealed over the slick brick of the Munson driveway with a speed that made even you wince. The gear clunked into park by your not-so-gentle hand, still unsteady and covered in snot. You wiped it on the skirt of your dress: billowy, soft pink cotton now stained with tears.

You flung the door open and stomped your feet to the ground, rushing to make it to the door. You weren't sure why you were so frantic. Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you were worried Steve would follow. And you weren't sure you could look at Steve right now. You weren't sure you could stomach the sight of him.

Just as you reached the arched doorway of the Munson's looming mansion, lifting your hand to knock, the wood fell away to reveal a bare-chested and wide-eyed Eddie Munson.

"What the fuck is—Libby?"

You dropped your hand, sniffling. "Oh, hi Eddie."

You suddenly felt silly. Standing there in a disheveled, crumpled mess—hair astray, makeup soiled, dress collecting wet spots and wrinkles. Your shoes were strangling your feet. The brown belt around your waist was squeezing your lungs. And you had nothing. No purse, no house keys, no car of your own. Just Steve's brand new Mustang and a wobbling lip.

For a moment, Eddie just stared. His mouth fell agape, arm dropping from the doorway where he'd been preparing to lunge at some sort of paparazzi or other unwanted creep lurking in his driveway, more than ready to serve a stern scolding for streaking his newly-lain brick. But instead, there was you: swollen-nosed and sticky-cheeked, an unkempt version of the joyful girl he was used to seeing. Even when he knew you'd been fighting with Steve, Eddie had never seen you shed a tear or break a pout. You always kept a sugar-sweet poker face on for the public.

You were damn good at it too—nearly as good as his professionally-media-trained fiancée.

Eddie broke out of his stunned stupor at the sound of the latter's footsteps pattering behind him, slipper-clad and unprepared for what she was about to see.

"Ed, who was it?"

"Uh..." Eddie trailed off, stepping aside when Stella appeared beside him in a satin robe, tying the strings around her waist.

Stella, much like Eddie, paused. It seemed as though her entire body seized, like she'd just seen a splattered raccoon on the side of the road—pity and horror, all at once. You let your eyes fall to the stone steps, wiping your cheeks to freshen up a little. God, you felt so silly.

"Well, for god's sake, Munson, invite her in. Jesus, the poor thing's shaking!"

Stella swooped in, slipping her arm around your shoulders to push past her husband and guide you inside. She smelled delicate and expensive, her hand soft against your arm. She shook her head at Eddie, who flushed red as he swung the door closed and slid the lock.

"I'm sorry for showin' up like this unannounced," you murmured meekly, still avoiding their gazes as Stella gently guided the pair of you down on the cream-colored couch in the first living room. "I meant to call on the car phone, I just..."

Eddie carefully took the seat across from you, glancing at his fiancée over your head.

"Don't worry about it," Stella cooed, rubbing your arm, her own still draped over your back.

You nodded, wiping under your eyes. Your finger came away streaked in charcoal and sticky black. You wiped your hands together with a sigh, freshly manicured nails clacking together.

"Is everything okay?" Eddie offered, head tipping to see your face.

You took your lip between your teeth, scraping them over the plush flesh. You sniffled again, and it was as you dropped your head to your hands in your lap that the Munsons realized you were crying again. Eddie's head snapped toward Stella, who glared at him. Nice going, she mouthed over your head, tightening her hold on your frame against her body.

Eyes blown wide and cheeks flaming hot again, Eddie shuffled toward on the oversized armchair. "Fuck—shit, Libby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No," you chirped, voice strained with another cry. "Don't worry about, I-I'm okay."

You lifted your head halfway and flashed him a weak smile. Eddie's seemed strained in response—more a grimace than a grin. Stella rubbed your arm again, bringing your hair away from your face where it was beginning to cling to your cheeks.

"Do you want to take a bath? You can borrow some of my clothes, or we can have Tiffany go run out and get you some—"

"Oh gosh," you sighed, head shaking. "I don't want to be a bother. I-I'll take whatever you have."

Stella nodded, standing to her feet. "Alright, come on, I'll get you set up."

Eddie watched you walk side by side toward the double staircase: you a small, trudging, hunched figure and his fiancé a mess of poorly-concealed concern. She looked over her shoulder toward him as you ascended the stairs together, shooting him a look of panic. Eddie only ran his hand over his face and nodded in agreement.

The entire way up the stairs, you murmured more apologies and promised to be gone by tonight.

"Oh hush," Stella soothed as she guided you toward the guest wing. "You're staying. We'll make it a girl's night."

She opened the bathroom door, padding across the marble toward the clawfoot tub. You lingered like a child in the doorway and twisted your fingers behind your back.

"Are you sure—"

"Libby. I'm more than sure. I'll go get you something to wear, just get comfortable."

You stepped into the bathroom, aching to undo the straps on your heels and free your feet from their uncomfortable confines. Stella turned the faucet on, releasing a stream of hot water into the pristine white tub. She flashed you a smile as she headed your way toward the door. She came to a stop beside you, squeezing your shoulder.

"And whenever you wanna talk...I'm here, okay?"

You bobbed your head, matching her smile with teary eyes. Her hand slipped away from your arm, and she disappeared through the door. She returned a few moments later with a fluffy robe (light pink, clearly new, clearly purchased for a guest stay) and a silk pajama set: delicately patterned and embroidered with a designer logo.

You thanked her, set the items on the sink, and shed your body of its bearings. You kicked your heels toward the corner, spiteful and wishing to light them on fire. You dipped your feet into the tub and sank into the steaming water, sighing as it lapped at your bare body.

You rested your head back against the lip of the tub, cushioned with a bath pillow, and closed your eyes.

It was so quiet here. And there was no Steve.

♡ ♡

When you were sure you’d scrubbed all the remnants of your blowout with Steve from your body, you pulled the drain and let the water gurgle down. The pajamas Stella gave you were soft and freshly washed, and though there were sizing differences between the pair of you, they were far more comfortable than what you came in. Anything that didn’t smell like Steve was welcome.

You tied the robe into a ribbon around your waist, feet bare and toes curling across the carpet. You hugged your arms tight over your chest as you pattered down the staircase, still wary and uncertain. You didn’t feel unwelcome, but you certainly didn’t feel at home. Not to mention, Eddie was Steve’s friend. You wondered if he’d even believe you if you told him what happened.

But you didn’t want to talk about Steve right now. Right now, you just wanted to stop crying.

So, eyes still aching and stinging with old tears, you wandered into the living room to find Stella perched on Eddie’s lap, his hand running through her hair.

“Oh hey,” she greeted you, sitting up. “Everything okay?”

You bobbed your head, mustering a toothless smile. “Yeah, thank you.”

“You want something to eat?” Eddie asked, head tipping to find you around Stella.

You shrugged. “I’m alr—“

“Eddie’s got the fridge stocked at all times now that he’s beefing up,” Stella giggled, squeezing Eddie’s firm bicep.

Eddie’s mouth slipped into a grin, half-cocked and charming. “What can I say? I’m giving Harrington a run for his money.”

Your giggle was faux and cracked somewhere in the middle. Stella’s smile slipped, rubbing her fiancé’s arm for a moment more before sliding to her feet. Eddie wished he could swallow the mention of his friend’s name. If the way your face crumbled and your eyes welled up held any indication of what happened between you two—Eddie figured it was best not to mention your boyfriend’s name at all.

“Or,” Stella sung excitedly, looping her arm through yours. “We can go have some of that champagne we just opened.”

You nodded, eyes meeting hers briefly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you headed to the kitchen, Eddie’s big, sweeping steps following suit. You took a seat at one of the leather stools flanking the marble island, placing your elbows on the smooth countertop to play with your nails. Stella clinked around the kitchen, pulling the bottle of Dom from its ice bath, locating two champagne flutes in a cupboard nearby. They clinked against the marble when she set them down.

"Let me open it, honey," Eddie cooed, quickly replacing Stella's hands on the chilled bottle of bubbly.

"I had it, babe," Stella huffed, though her tone had a dash of something gooey to it.

You smiled softly when Eddie leaned over and kissed her cheek, loud and quick. "I know."

Eddie popped the cork off with precision, the loud explosion of air quickly disintegrating, replaced by the 'glug, glug' trickle of champagne filling the flutes. When they were even and spritzing sparks, Eddie fished them from the counter and presented one to each of you.

"Ladies."

You cracked another smile, sniffling as you accepted the drink. "Thank you."

Stella shook her head, affection smeared across her face. She pressed another kiss to Eddie's waiting, puckered lips, and rubbed his bare arm again. "Alright, get outta here, Munson. It's a girl's night."

Eddie didn't argue. Instead, he pressed another kiss to Stella's neck, head tipping to fit the nook, and turned to you with gentle eyes.

"Shout if y' need me, 'kay?"

Stella, beaming despite the eye roll, slid to mirror your stance and rest her elbows on the island. "'Kay."

Eddie shuffled out of the room, and in his absence you sipped your champagne with tiny gulps. Stella pressed hers against her cheek, nails gleaming under the bright white glow of the kitchen chandelier. She watched you awhile, silently pondering. You tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear as you set the glass down.

"Sure you don't want anything to eat?"

You shook your head, nail tracing the grain of the marble. "No, I'm okay."

"Because," Stella said, setting her glass down and twirling toward the double-doored fridge. "I meant it about Eddie keeping stock. I mean...four pounds of bacon? The man is insane."

The shiny steel doors swung open to reveal—just as Stella said—a fully-stocked fridge. An array of milks, juices, power and energy drinks, sodas, produce, dairy products, and all sorts of snacks revealed themselves to you. And though your stomach hollowed with hunger and sat like an owl's nest in a tree trunk, you couldn't fathom the idea of eating. You worried the taste of food on your tongue would trigger the bile that's been resting in your throat.

"I'm okay," you repeated, another small smile gracing your mouth. "Promise."

Stella gently closed the door until they suctioned shut. She returned to the island with a much smaller bout of enthusiasm. You felt horrible for mellowing the mood. You felt horrible for intruding in their home. You felt horrible for bringing them into this mess—a mess that, at the moment, they still knew nothing about. You wondered if Steve's blood was still on the car.

Taking another sip of her champagne, Stella inched closer to you. "Can I braid your hair?"

Your eyes flittered her way with swift surprise. She flashed a sheepish but hopeful grin, shoulders shrugging under silk.

"Oh, um...sure. That'd be nice."

Setting her glass down again, Stella clasped her hands together. "Okay, I'll be right back!"

She returned with a brush and hair ties, and situated herself behind your stool to approach your hair. The brush whooshed through the strands, scraping your back through the soft, terry pink robe. You suddenly felt like a Barbie. You suddenly weren't thinking of Steve.

She sectioned your hair in two, fingers delicately weaving. The hair ties plucked and snapped, and finally wrapped around the ends of two neat braids falling down your back. Stella smoothed them behind your shoulders and stepped back.

"There."

You swept your hands over the braids, damp and ridged before turning over your shoulder with a smile. "Thank you, Stella."

The other girl nodded, hand returning to her glass once more. "'Course. Now come on, we're watching Sixteen Candles in the screening room."

♡ ♡

You barely stayed awake during the movie. Eyes heavy and aching, fluttering closed between scenes only to snap open ten minutes later. By the time the credits rolled, your champagne had been finished and refilled twice, and you were more than half asleep. Stella, wide-awake and still waning with concern, guided you back to the guest room.

It was there that you snapped from slumber. You stirred in the sheets, cool and clean and crisp Egyptian cotton—but not yours. The pillow beside you was empty, perfectly plump and fluffed and missing the shape of someone's head. Steve's head. The room was void of his smell. That sweet, minty musk of nighttime. That soft, gentle warmth of his body winding down. Your heart wept for it.

And so did you, eyes welling and flooding with tears once again. You buried your face in the pillow to soften your cries and force sleep, but you only soaked the silk and clogged your nose.

You just wanted to call him. You just wanted to hear his voice, those whimpered apologies. You knew he was sorry, of course you did. He hadn't meant to do it. But he did. And he couldn't take that back with more teary-eyed apologies and petulant pouts. He couldn't fix it with flowers or kisses. This was different. He'd gone too far this time.

Worst of all, your body seemed to be in a tug-of-war contest between furious and heartbroken. You weren't sure which would win. The confusion of it all elicited a restlessness like no other.

You kicked the covers off and reached for the robe again. Fastening it around your body, you huffed as you headed toward the door. Quietly brewing and going over every moment of the day in your head, you wandered back to the first floor and into the kitchen. Even encased in the blue darkness of well past midnight, the Munson mansion seemed dauntingly massive.

"Couldn't sleep?"

A sharp gasp shot from your mouth, body jolting at the sight of Eddie's shadowed figure at the island.

Hand over your frantic heart, you sighed and stepped into the room. "God, you scared me."

He cracked a lopsided grin, teeth shining in a sliver of moonlight. "Sorry."

You slid into the stool beside him, wooden legs scraping on the tile. "No, been tossing for hours."

Eddie paused a moment. "Want some ice cream?"

You glanced at him. "Sure."

Eddie pushed away from the island, shuffling to the freezer. He pulled the drawer open and fished out a freezer-burnt tub. "Lucky for you, we've got the real shit now that Stella's off set."

A tub of strawberry ice cream found its way between the pair of you, two spoons forming craters in the frozen treat. For a while, the darkness of the kitchen was quiet. You dug in and swallowed it down with no words to pair it with. You knew your eyes were still wet, that dampness still gathered under your nose. But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it.

Swallowing around his spoon, Eddie pulled it away and licked it clean before letting it clink against the marble.

"Alright," he sighed, heavy and dad-like. "Give it to me straight, kid. What'd he do?"

You turned away, watching the smooth pink cream form a rolling ball with the pull of your spoon in the paper carton. You wanted to tell him; just as badly as you wanted to tell Stella. But part of you worried what might happen if you did. Part of you worried they'd doubt you.

"Hey." Eddie reached out, cold fingers tapping your hand. "You okay?"

You nodded once. Head bobbing in slow jerking successions until it dropped into your hand, palm over eyes. God, you were so sick of crying.

"I don't know," you croaked.

Eddie shifted in his stool, leather creaking under his sweats. "You—I mean...did you get in a fight?"

You sniffled, nodding. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him. "It was so bad. W-we were saying such h-horrible things."

"Ah," Eddie scoffed, shrugging. "Nothin' you can't take back, I'm sure."

You shook your head, lifting it to swipe away more tears and snot. You were trying your best not to soil the robe. You rolled the sleeves to your elbows to avoid it. "N-no, not this t-time. I don't think s-so."

You could barely breathe. Saying it out loud, holding the entire night on the tip of your tongue and knowing how horrible it would sound coming out—it hit you then. What Steve had really done this time.

Eddie paused, and you reached in with your spoon for another bite of ice cream when Eddie's hand touched your arm. Halting its journey toward the dessert, Eddie's fingers looped around your wrist and brought it across the counter. Gentle but determined, Eddie flipped your arm to reveal the back plain of bone.

"What the hell is this?"

You turned away again. "Nothing—"

Eddie dropped your arm, taking quick steps toward the light switch to flick it on. He moved so swiftly that you barely had time to react before he'd taken your arm again and pushed the pink sleeve up to your bicep. In the white glow of the spotlights, more of Steve's handiwork was clear as day.

You sighed, twisting your wrist in Eddie's palm. "Eddie—"

"Guys, it's one in the morning what are we—ooh, ice cream."

Stella trudged into the room, eyes half-lidded with bleary slumber, clearly still teetering in and out of consciousness. She swiped the spoon from Eddie's place and reached for the carton, holding her robe closed with her other hand—but paused at the sight before her.

"What's going...on?" Her mouth hung open, a spoonful of soupy strawberry cream hovering nearby—but she stopped, taken aback by the fresh, vibrant colors on your arm.

Eddie's eyes were hard, teeth clenched tight. You were frozen in your seat.

"He fuckin' hit her."

You pulled your arm away, tugging the robe down. "No, he...he just—he grabs me too hard sometimes. I-it's not—that's not—that wasn't—"

"Libby," Stella's tone took a new smoothness, coaxing and gentle but sharp-edged with panic. "Did Steve hit you?"

"No," you insisted, eyes flicking between the couple. Eddie's hand swept over his face, leg bouncing beneath the counter. "No, I swear."

Please believe me trembled in the cadence of your voice. Your eyes rounded pleadingly, blurring with more tears that pained to shed. Stella dropped the spoon and rounded the island, placing her hand on your shoulder.

"It's okay, I believe you. Come on, let's sit over here."

Arm looped around your shoulders, Stella steered you toward the breakfast nook: white linen cushions, clean wooden table, a vase of fresh lilies. You gazed over your shoulder toward the abandoned rockstar at the island, and you knew he didn't agree with his fiancée.

"Okay, just...tell us what happened. And we will listen," Stella insisted, glancing pointedly Eddie's way where he still sat hunched and clearly itching to say something. "Without interruption. Right?"

Eddie huffed, whirling around in his stool. He eased against the counter and crossed his arms, shrugging. The "right" he parroted was clipped and tight.

You tried to remind yourself that it was Steve he was mad at.

"Okay, so...earlier today...at the gym...I was talking to another man. About nothing, just...stuff, you know? Just making small talk."

Stella nodded attentively. "Okay."

Eddie looked like he already knew where this story was going.

"Steve gets so jealous," you huffed, eyes rolling. You sounded congested and sad. "So, he hit him. Knocked him out cold for a second—all because the guy made me laugh!"

You pulled the sleeves of your robe down again, wiping at your cheeks. You felt bare with your mistakes worn so clearly on your arm.

"So, I let 'im have it. We fought the whole drive home. Just screaming at each other. And we fought when we got home, too. We both say mean things when we're upset. Sometimes it feels like we're competing, seeing who can hurt each other worse."

You'd never said that out loud to anyone before. For the first time, it felt like you were lending a piece of your life—one you usually kept hidden behind closed doors—to someone else for safe keeping. You felt a little lighter already.

"He called me crazy," you said, fiddling with the terry cloth fabric around your fist. "And...I told him he was just like his father."

Stella furrowed her brows, clearly missing pieces of the story. You glanced at her, anticipating this gap. "Like his father?" she pressed.

You pulled a thread loose on the cuff of your sleeve. "Steve's father was...abusive. To him and his mom growing up."

Stella's nod was slow, understanding. She didn't press any further, and you didn't expand. It wasn't your story to tell. Eddie readjusted his stance, sitting up a little straighter. His poker face reminded you of the days he came to the gym when him and Stella were apart. How desperate he was for release, but refused to let the pain of losing her show.

"I pushed him, you know? I...I was egging him on—I-I shouldn't have said that—"

"Libby," Eddie interjected lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tell me he didn't put his hands on you."

You deflated with another sigh. "No, no! He just...he had me against the wall and he...punched the wall. But it wasn't—"

“Hon.” Stella’s hand slid across the table to touch yours. “You know that’s not any better, right? You know that’s just one step away.”

You knew what she meant. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve told it to yourself. One day, he’s gonna hit you.

“But I shouldn’t ‘ve said that—“

“It doesn’t matter what you said, Libby. Nothing justifies this. Nothing.”

"This guy is fuckin' rich," Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "Wait until I get ahold of him. Fuckin' prick."

You wanted to protest. You wanted to tell Eddie it wasn't worth it, that you didn't want to make a big deal of something small. But the words died in your throat. It was worth it, and it was a big deal. You couldn't keep excusing Steve anymore.

Sighing, Stella squeezed your hand and shuffled toward the end of the breakfast nook. "How about we all just try to get some sleep, alright? We can talk more in the morning and...figure this all out."

You nodded. Eddie just crossed his arms again. Stella, giving your hand another comforting pat, slipped out of the breakfast nook. The rubber pads of her slippers whooshed over the tile toward Eddie, the kiss she popped on his cheek delicate. He visibly softened a bit at her gentle affections.

"Off to sleep, kids."

♡ ♡

In the morning, your eyes ached, and a dull, incessant pounding nestled in your temples. Stella woke before you and left a change of clothes on the dresser: something comfortable, something clean. The fabrics smelled like laundry soap and eased your aches.

And the house was...quiet. It felt nice to wake up to quiet. It'd been too long since you had a morning of quiet.

You brushed your teeth with the toothbrush in the guest bathroom, fresh from the store packaging. You trailed downstairs, dreading the conversation that awaited with the couple in the kitchen.

Stella perched on the edge of the island, flipping through a magazine, eating berries from a bowl. Eddie stood at the stove, long raven locks knotted messily at the nape of his neck, flipping pancakes with a shiny silver spatula. They sizzled on the over-buttered pan and filled the room with a hint of hot vanilla.

"Oh, good, you found them! You look cute," Stella pipped, hopping off the counter to greet you.

"Yeah, thanks so much," you replied, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

Eddie peeked over his shoulder, sliding a pancake from the stove to a plate waiting on the counter beside him. The pile stacked high. Three plates and appropriate utensils waited at the breakfast nook. Staying at the Munson residence wasn't too shabby. Still, you couldn't help the stiffness to your limbs, your body's uneasy preparation for an uneasy conversation.

"Mornin', bookworm," Eddie called.

You cracked a breezy grin, trailing toward the bowl of berries. "Morning, guys."

Stella trailed to the fridge and filled three glasses with orange juice. You lingered near the fruit but didn't touch—it felt so strange staying with other people. Staying with people who were all you had right now.

"Hope you're ready for the best pancakes you've ever had," Eddie boasted, spinning around with a plate full of wobbling cakes.

Rolling her eyes and balancing the glasses in her hands, Stella drifted toward the breakfast nook. "He's exaggerating. But they are pretty great."

"You wound me, Rink."

You settled beside Stella on the end, across from Eddie. He slapped two cakes on a two plates for you and Stella, four for himself. Stella wasn't kidding about the "bulking up." As you reached for the syrup, you caught shape of the pancakes: hearts. Or...they were clearly supposed to be.

"Thought they might cheer you up," Eddie said, clocking your pause. "I know how the ladies love 'em." His head tipped toward his fiancée.

You glanced between them, grinning. "Thank you, Eddie."

You cut two pats of butter and poured a river of sticky syrup onto your pancakes, reaching for the fork and knife and getting two bites in before the doorbell rang. Heads turning, the three of you paused.

"Probably just a package—"

The doorbell rang again. And again. Soon, the gongs became interrupted by more pressing. Ding, ding, ding, ding. The pounding came soon after, a heavy fist banging into the glass—by then, everyone knew it wasn't a package.

Eddie tossed his fork toward his plate, table wobbling with the swiftness of his stance. Napkin crumpled and tossed aside, he stalked through the kitchen with intimidating purpose. You turned to Stella, and it only took a split second for her to read through the mask.

You were scared.

"Come on, let's go upstairs."

Skittering away from your barely-touched breakfast, the pair of you rushed the staircase arm in arm. Your heart was in your throat, throbbing with every stomp up the steps. You were inches from throwing up, and it took everything in you to swallow it down past the tears stinging your eyes.

Stella took a sharp turn into the master bedroom, tugging you along with her own look of wide-eyed panic. You whipped around as she reached for the door.

“I know she’s here, Munson. Let me the fuck in.”

Steve’s voice trailed the length of the home, menacing and gruff. You took a step back, and Stella shut the door.

You turned the lock.

#rolly! #boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #king steve #steve the babysitter #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #boxer!steve #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve the hair harrington #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington hurt/comfort

[sapphire-weapon]

When Capcom sat down to write RE4make and Separate Ways, they had to have a moment of reckoning when it came to Ada's character:

Do they continue to write out her romance with Leon, or

Do they commit to her role as an ambiguous third party agent keeping her fingers in all of the pies?

They chose the latter. They chose the latter because it was more important, narratively. And they couldn't have both, because having both doesn't make any fucking sense and never has made any fucking sense.

Ada is a selfish character, at her core. To have her constantly be soft for Leon undermines that selfishness and makes her other actions not make any sense; if she cared that much about him, why would she continuously serve the bad guys that make his life a living hell? And the reverse is also true. Why would she care so much about Leon if all he does is get in her way and act as a distraction for her?

So anyone who complains that RE4make's Separate Ways didn't show Ada caring enough about Leon -- that was the point. They solidified her identity as a character by doing that.

The writers of the Remake series made a conscious decision to make Leon and Ada's interactions/relationship in RE2make serve an actual function/purpose for their characters instead of "uwu they're in love."

For Leon -- Ada taught him that the people opposed to him aren't always bad guys. She taught him the true lesson of "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions." He learned to trust that little voice in the back of his head that tells him "something's not right here." She also taught him that there's a way to do the right thing without following the rules -- and, sometimes, by breaking them entirely.

For Ada -- Leon taught her that being independent doesn't mean self-isolating -- because just looking out for herself and no one else actually resulted in her just keeping her head down and not asking questions, which screwed her over big time in the end. Leon didn't teach her love or compassion or empathy; he showed her that she was actually being just as naive as he was, just on the other side of the fight.

Basically, they both taught each other: QUESTION EVERYTHING. Because that was the one thing that neither of them did in RE2make until it was way, way too late.

And so, in RE4make/Separate Ways, Ada spends far less time and emotional energy worrying about Leon because she's actually taking the lesson he taught her to heart and she's questioning the people and circumstances around her in order to protect herself. That was the point of her early voiceover about how Raccoon City changed her perspective and made her start asking where her efforts were going and why she was doing what she was sent to do.

She doesn't ask questions for moral reasons. She asks them for selfish ones. Because Ada is an inherently selfish character.

On the boat, Leon asks Ada: "Are you just trying to use me again?" and Separate Ways answers and repeats over and over and over again: YES. The only reason she helps Leon in the village and at Mendez's house is so that he can continue being useful for her. Because Leon didn't teach her to care about people; Leon only taught her how to better take care of herself -- the same way she did for him.

This is a really damning exchange of words:

So, yes -- Ada is using Leon in RE4make. Yes, she only helps him because it benefits her. No, she genuinely doesn't care whether he lives or dies. Yes, she meant it when she told Leon to leave Ashley for dead, and yes, her sole reason for doing it was to get Ashley out of the way because Ada found Leon's new demeanor hot and she wanted to fuck him. No, she had no intention of taking Ashley with them on the chopper at the end -- because yes, her invitation to Leon was a bookend to her earlier offer for Leon to leave Ashley and go fuck her (Ada) instead.

And that's why Leon tells her to go fuck herself and shakes his head in utter disbelief when she asks if he's coming with her.

Because Ada is a selfish character.

I don't say this to hate on the character or even express dislike for her. This doesn't make her a bad character -- in fact, the opposite is true. It makes her consistent, which makes her a better written character overall from what/who she was in OG.

It also doesn't make her evil or a bad guy. Ada Wong is the most Chaotic Neutral character in the entire RE series -- even moreso than Billy Coen or Jake Muller ever were. She's in it for herself, and that particular approach is neither inherently morally good nor evil.

But Aeon is dead canonically in the Remake-verse. It was sacrificed in the name of bringing consistency and logic to both characters.

And that was the true point of the boat scene.

Neither of them have changed who they are at their most fundamental level. Leon is still the selfless hero, and Ada is still the selfish spy. Their relationship in RE2make served as a strengthening of those core traits -- not an erosion of them. Leon can better protect and save Ashley because of the lessons that Ada taught him, and Ada can successfully outmaneuver Wesker because of the lessons that Leon taught her.

But that doesn't change who she is. It doesn't change who either of them are. In fact, it only served to create a more authentic version of them both. Leon is more zealous in his heroism, and Ada is more committed to her own self-preservation and naked about her selfish intentions.

The only people in RE4make who changed who they were were Luis and Krauser. Luis for the better, and Krauser for the worse. And they both paid for it with their lives.

#resident evil 4 #separate ways #leon kennedy #ada wong #meta analysis