#also when i was trying to write the second half of this my dog kept putting her head on the keyboard

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…��

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

[strikethematch18]

Of Sleep, Humanity, and Tainted Sorrow

Instead Of Sleep Universe (IOSU)

Dazai x F! Reader, Dazai x Chuuya, Dazai x F! Reader x Chuuya

Word Count: 2,696

This is an offshoot of my Bungou Stray Dogs oneshot Instead of sleep, I like to call this the Instead of Sleep Universe. While this could probably be read as a standalone, I would not recommend it. I’ll make sure to link the original. Instead of Sleep

To recap: Reader is a member of the ADA with an ability called Instead of Sleep which allows her hot project her current exhaustion onto someone else and enter their dreamscape, or subconscious. Her ability only works if she is tired beforehand and suffers from extreme insomnia because of this. “Instead of Sleep” ability is loosely based on the Ao3 tag “I wrote this instead of sleeping”

The original ship was just Dazai x Reader, but I’m a greedy indulgent little shit with a love for why choose books so this installment is Dazai and Chuuya with Reader.

This has not been proofed or edited. I am also considering writing a second part.

m.list

The relationship started with just you and Dazai, you thought it was monogamous, you thought it was just the two of you, faithful to each other. So, when you found out you were "the other woman" you were actually heartbroken beyond belief. Not only were you unable to sleep because of your ability, but you were unable to eat, you took up cases left and right and going home to change and stare at your ceiling most nights; sometimes your coworkers would come into the office the next morning to find you in the same position you were in when they left, at your desk doing your work but also nearly everyone else's too.

Every member of the agency tried in their own way to get you to settle, relax, eat at least a little something, or take a small nap. Well, all except for Dazai, he had tried in the beginning but your kept your distance as much as possible. Ranpo would leave snacks or force them into your hand. Yosano would drag you to the infirmary after a laborious case under the guise of a checkup but would make you lay there for a minimum of 30 minutes if you didn't manage to fall asleep for at least some rest. Junichiro and Kenji both trying to brighten your mood with jokes or tales from home. Kyouka would place the stuffed bunny she kept on her desk in your lap if she noticed you were fiddling with your hands more than usual and seemed anxious. Atsushi even guided you to an open section of the office a few times where he arranged the futon kept in the office for just in case scenarios, would force you down, and would turn into Byakko for you to contently sigh and curl into the tiger and at least run your fingers through the fur and let the tension slip from your shoulders and occasionally your eyes droop until you'd fall into a small slumber, that was about as much sleep as you would get. The president on more than one occasion would try to send you home and to not come back until you rested, but you both knew it was fruitless cause.

This carried on until eventually you had passed out from the lack of care your body was receiving on top of falling sick and found yourself in the hospital for a week and a half. When you woke up early in your stay there was Dazai in a chair pulled up next to your bed with his head in his hands and a certain redhead mafia executive leaning in the doorway to your room.

Come to find out, Dazai was bisexual and was interested in a polyamorous relationship and was working up the nerve to tell you about it and his relationship with Chuuya. He knew he never should have entered that relationship with you without you explicitly knowing. And was he ever sorry, seeing your weakened state and how much smaller you looked in that hospital bed amplified that. He stayed away because it's what he thought you wanted, that you were disgusted, never did he think you were going to find yourself sick in the hospital.

And well, Chuuya at the time was indifferent. Sure, the Mackeral should have done a lot different, but he didn't know you as well as he did Dazai. He did know you through Osamu, he knew details about you; hell he kept pestering Dazai to tell you early on so save both of you from the pain; he didn’t know things had gotten this bad. He didn't know you, but he wanted to, especially after he saw your smile and heard your laugh for the first time, even more so when it was over a piece of commentary regarding something dumb his ever so smart partner had just said.

Over time, your relationship with Dazai repaired and grew with Chuuya. Eventually, you found yourself in the best relationship you could ever hope to be in. Sincerely loved by both men and spoiled beyond belief, you didn't think you deserved it but were grateful you did. Most nights you spent in-between the two, curled into Dazai with Chuuya wrapped behind you; in fact most nights you actually got at least a few hours of peaceful sleep - this was the most rested you had been in years.

That's part of why you were worried when a joint mission with the ADA and Port mafia required the once double black to team up for a mission that was going to take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Despite the usual efficiency between the two on missions, this was week three without them. You had managed to sleep maybe a collected 8 hours during that time. The three of you called regularly, sometimes it was enough to lull you into a light sleep but it never lasted a full hour. You would try to assure them that, yes you were getting some rest, but both men could hear the exhaustion in your tone as you tried to pretend for their sake.

So, when during one of your calls during a day you had off and you were sniffling and your voice sounded just a bit off, Dazai and Chuuya knew they had to finish this mission and finish it now. Of course they asked what was wrong and if anything happened just to make sure that wasn't the problem and you said you were sure it was just allergies despite it raining, it became clear to them your immune system had taken a hit. Which per past events, a simple cold had the high probability of moving downhill quickly.

You never had a particularly strong immune system, lack of proper rest tends to weaken its defense and ability to recover. By the end of the call you had let the coughs you were trying to hide slip and your voice was rougher than when the conversation started and you sounded absolutely exhausted. Keeping up the facade proved to be hard as the time went on.

This was more than enough to get double black to act quickly and end this. They had more than enough to report and act on. If their new plan went the way it was supposed to they would be back to you by tomorrow morning. By the evening hours the mission was completed, their bags were packed and Dazai and Chuuya were on a train back to Yokohama. Paperwork was done on the journey back and dropped off at its respected location before they made the trip back to mafia executives apartment where all three of you have been living. Dazai had made sure to tell shachou both of you wouldn't be in today or tomorrow, longer depending on how sick you were. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when he heard you were sick and told the brunette to not worry about coming back until you were in peak health, either of you. He knew Dazai was imperative to your recovery, sleep is a powerful medicine and you rarely got any without the detective.

After completing those quick tasks they met each other at the red heads building simultaneously and and hurried up the floors to reach the apartment. Getting ready to put the key into unlock the door both could hear a chesty cough and both looked at each other with wide eyes.

"Honey, we're ho-ome~!" Dazai announced sing songedly.

"Welcome back you two," you replied hoarsely before falling into the fit of coughs and slight wheezes.

Spotting you sat huddled in the corner of the sectional couch wrapped in the largest and fluffiest blanket they owned, Chuuya dropped his bag where he stood and made his way over to you. Watching you try to catch your breath worried him beyond belief as it reminded him of when you first officially met in that hospital room.

Placing his hand your forehead his frown deepened, "Oh lovebug."

Coughing a few more times you replied, "Sorry Chu."

"It's not your fault lovebug, let's get some medicine in you and get you in bed, okay?" Without giving you a choice he tugged you towards him before slipping an arm under your knees and the other on your back and lifting you up blanket and all. Dazai didn't miss the soft smile creeping onto his partners face as you nuzzled into Chuuya, relishing in the affection you've been deprived of the last few weeks. Wordlessly he made his way to the bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed everything needed before walking into the shared bedroom and setting them down before preparing to change clothes. Osamu knew Chuuya was going to hold you and keep you to himself for a few minutes so you knew he was really there and to assure himself you were safe, so it gave him ample time to get things together. Taking off his typical ensemble and putting on a pair of charcoal sweatpants and pulling the navy t-shirt on just as Chuuya brought you into room, he got his first actual look at how exhausted and sick you looked. You seemed miserable and in more pain than he originally thought, but most importantly, you were so tired. And he knew better than to touch you until medicine has been taken.

That was the next action of business. Get you to take the multitude of medications he procured from the cabinet. He knew you were weak and feeling horrible but you never liked taking things, so often it was a fight. Nonetheless he proceeded to place each pill in a small cup for the pass off. If he so much as brushed your hand he knew you would be asleep almost instantly. And while sleep would help, it wouldn't be enough to get you back to peak health, not without the medicine. In the cup was a few vitamins, a decongestant, a cough reducer and something to hopefully bring your fever down. Currently placed in his pocket was your emergency inhaler left over from when you were able to come home from the hospital from before you had reconciled with him and your other lover.

Seeing the pills in a cup and small glass of water in his partners hand waiting to be handed to you Chuuya took the liberty of sitting on the side of the bed leaving you in his lap. Surprisingly but also unsurprisingly, you gingerly and gratefully took the cups into your slightly shaking hands to take the medicines. At least Dazai had the foresight to start off with the pills rather than any liquids, he knew you hated taking medicine in liquid form.

Noticing a slight bulge in Dazais pants pocket he asked, "Is that the inhaler?"

Glad his partner got the hint he confirmed it was before Chuuya took it upon himself to reach in and take it out while Dazai took the empty cups from your hands, longing to touch you but restraining. After looking at you Chuuya couldn't help but see how much these simple actions took out of you, exhaustion wearing you thin. Even keeping your head up was a struggle. He knew the inhaler could help, anything to help your lungs breathe better and decrease your wheezes. But he also knew you had very little strength left.

"Okay lovebug, we're going to tag team this, you know the drill," After getting the inhaler placed he counted down from 3 and pressed down to release the medicine.

You couldn't hold it in for long, forced to release a painful cough into your lovers chest, "Sorry Chuu," your hoarse voice rang out quietly.

"Bug its okay, you're sick and that was inevitable."

"I know. Just don't want you to get sick."

Coming back into the room after exiting the en suite bathroom Dazai chimed in, "We've got immune systems of steel we'll be fine. And if we're not we'll have the cutest nurse to take care of us."

Too tired to let out even a small laugh you smiled and responded, "yeah, I guess you're right.”

Chuuya went ahead and did a second dose of the inhaler, much like a similar response to before. After taking a coughing fit that had both men concerned for you wellbeing, they looked at each other reading each others minds as to whether or not they should take you to the hospital.

Half lidded, you looked at both of their faces and knew immediately what was on their minds, “I know what you two are thinking, and no, I’m not going to the hospital.”

”But love, you’re really sick, we’re just worried,” Dazai expressed wanting nothing more than to cup your cheek in his hand

”If-,” you began before coughing again, “If I get worse then you can take me. But I really just want to sleep first.”

Both men collectively sighed, in sync with each other after years of partnership. They knew any further arguing would be fruitless, also aware that they would have a hard time saying no to you when you were this sick and they had been away for the last few weeks.

Noticing the silence and your boys downtrodden faces you decided to break the silence, “So how was the mission, any issues? Take names? Kick ass?”

They knew what you were doing, and any other time they would have enlightened your antics, but chuuya could feel some of the fight leave your body as fatigue set in from the exhaustion and unconsciously knowing you were in a safe position. And so he gave you a small response to motivate you for later.

”You know I don’t kick any asses but yours and the shitty fish over here,” he smirked, “But I did kick some other things if you catch my drift.”

Before you had the time to continue your stalling tactic, wanting to spend time with Dazai and Chuuya that you had missed over the last few weeks, the later placed you in the middle of the bed so you would be between the both of you, as you were most nights. Dazai carefully pulled the blankets up so all either man had to do before crawling in to cuddle you from either side was pull their side of the corner back enough. While he did that, Chuuya changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of pajama pants, and a silly t-shirt you had gotten him early into your relationship that he was too proud to admit out loud that it was his favorite thing in his closet next to his signature hat. After his quick change, the redhead crawled in behind you, not quite around your body like the koala he is just yet- he was waiting for you to settle yourself with Dazai who was turning out lights around the apartment.

Looking at both his lovers waiting for him expectantly, one smiling with a dopey grin, and the other with flushed cheeks and glossy, tired eyes, he couldn’t help but want to relish in the moment but run to both of them for some well deserved rest at the same time. He sauntered over to his side of the bed, gently pulling back the covers and climbing in. Wiggling his eye brows, opening his arms to welcome you, you giggled lightly and rolled your eyes before you inched your way into them. He became inpatient and proceeded to pull you closer against him, not missing the small pout from the man on the other side of your now aware of the gap between the two of you causing the brunette to smirk.

Sighing in contentment at finally having you in his arms, your head to his chest, Dazai smiled down at your face, admiring your beauty even when you were so sick. He waited for Chuuya to settle around you before he expressed ‘love yous’ to both of you. Osamu could tell you were seconds away from sleep as he kissed your forehead, officially activating his ability, as you begun some of the best sleep you swear was the best in your entire life.

#bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd anime #bsd angst #bsd comfort #dazai x reader #dazai x chuuya #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #dazai fanfic #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #dazai x reader x chuuya #polyamory #armed detective agency #bungo stray dogs fanfic #osamu dazai #hurt/comfort #why choose #strikes iosu #iosu #instead of sleep #instead of sleep universe

[fbfh]

you're mine (and I'm yours) - scott mccall x witch!mate!reader hcs

wc: 4k

genre: soulmate au sort of, lowkey a sabrina the teenage witch au (hilda and zelda are your aunts) bc I'm in my 90s witchy whimsigothic era,

summary: trying to balance your newly realized powers as a young witch with a social life and starting at a new school is a lot to handle, and you're thrown for a huge curveball when the hot werewolf on the lacrosse team forms a mate bond with you, dragging both of you into each others secret worlds

warnings: not proof read, some predator/prey dynamics bc scott is a literal werewolf, scott realizes he's being kind of creepy towards you but you can tell he's not human so you get it yk, you pass out bc you're a tad overwhelmed, scott is very posessive, scott is very clingy, scott is so fucking down bad for you, implied size difference (specifically he has bigass hands), astral projection/eavesdropping through dreams, awkward mate talk with Derek and Scott, mention of future conversations about ruts but otherwise sfw, your Aunt Hilda and Salem both make dog jokes at Scott but he takes them in stride, I think that's it??

song rec: we belong together - ritchie valens, wereowl - sj tucker, wolf bite - owl city, head over feet - alanis morissette, also here's an outfit but it's totally optional lmao

a/n: had this in the works for a while!! It spiraled out of control lol,, I was debating using this as an outline but it's already pretty long and I'm coming out of a slump so I'll take what I can get lol but if yall like this def expect more of scott x whimsigothic witch reader bc I have SO many ideas lol ALSO for your consideration chris flemming's take on witch summer, and scott introduces himself to you like skunk from a diy basement show ((also tagging people on the movie/tv show au tag list and the omegaverse tag list bc of the genre so if you don't know why you're getting tagged in a teen wolf fic that's why lol))

@yesv01 @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @paige-creates @lubsana @demirunner @almostjollypizza  @mystic-writings  @babiesimagines  @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @hopefullhearts @justbookworm @Asunnyhunny @cowboylikekelsey

You and your family have always been somewhat quiet, kept to yourselves

In spite of some family members more… flashy joie de vivre

And in spite of the fact that you’re all at least a little eccentric 

You really do try to keep to yourselves

You just want a chill, peaceful existence 

You’re not looking for trouble 

Do no harm take no shit kind of energy

A lot of this is due to the fact that almost everyone in your family are witches 

You have a cousin who’s a sorcerer that lives out in tallahassee 

But besides that

You’re pretty much all witches

Your mom and dad live in michigan, often visiting family in the hudson valley or up in northern new england 

Quiet places where no one will look too closely at private lowkey eccentric people 

Once your magic and clairvoyant powers started to develop on your 16th birthday, you move in with your two aunts in northern california

A small town called beacon hills

Everyone knew figuring out a balance between learning about your powers and heritage and maintaining a normal social life was going to be hard

Your aunts arranged a split schedule for you

You’d homeschool half the week to give you more time and freedom to learn your craft

And go to the public high school half the week 

Hybrid schooling isn’t exactly conventional, but nothing about your family really is

The school board apparently weren’t very pro on this but your aunts managed to convince them

So for the first half of the week, everything goes fine

You’re doing your homework as fast as you can and learning so much about your powers

You’ve been studying auras and energy reading

Once you get the hang of it, you find it’s hard to shut it off

The second half of the week surprisingly also goes okay

At first

Your first day at beacon hills high, you get a tour from a guy named Stiles who is either taking way too much or not enough adderall 

He seems a little sidetracked and you get the impression he has a lot going on outside of school

You’re also approached by a girl named Allison and her friend Lydia

Allison tells you that she’s somewhat new to beacon hills too, and you form a sort of bond over that

You wonder if she’s a fire sign, you immediately pick up on a strong warrior/fighter type of energy from her 

Lydia is really nice too, and you can tell she’s a lot smarter than she lets on

You pick up an unusual energy from Lydia, something tugging at your gut and poking the corners of your mind, but it doesn't feel threatening so you brush it off

You sense Stiles nearby and turn your head, seeing him talk with a lanky blonde dude

Your stomach drops 

There is something very weird about this guy 

You can feel a really distinct energy but you can't put it into words 

You squint, wondering what his name is

You're getting a lot of vowels, something sort of old, biblical??

Eventually your attention is pulled back to Allison 

"Were you staring at Isaac?"

Isaac

That makes sense

"Uh, yeah no, I just spaced out for a second…"

You get that bubbling feeling that something is coming really quickly

"Come on, we should get to class." You drag them away, walking in front of them

You're right once again, as Scott McCall rounds the corner looking for Stiles and Isaac

"Hey we need to-"

He cuts himself off, distracted by the scent he picked up

It's different from any other scent he's ever encountered 

It's sweet and electric, like the first sip of your favorite soda 

"Scott?" Stiles asks 

He picks it up again, this time on Stiles 

He leans closer, sniffing him like a bloodhound 

He shoves his nose in Stiles neck, then makes his way down his torso and over to his wrist as Stiles protests

Stiles’s scent immediately overwhelms the new one and Scott recoils

"Dude, don't do that in public!" He hisses, catching the strange looks from the students passing by them

"Or in private- or ever!" He corrects 

He looks back at Scott, whose pupils are super dilated 

"What… what was that?" Scott wonders regarding the intoxicating scent 

"Yeah, I was going to ask you the same thing," Stiles grumbles, thrown off by the odd (and almost intimate) gesture 

For the rest of the day, whenever he starts to clear his head, he'll catch that scent again, completely pulling his focus away

Meanwhile, you've found at least 3 people with that same weird energy as Isaac

It doesn't feel bad, not right away at least 

But it's really really strong 

It’s strange and overwhelming

Between how exhausted you are from all your magic lessons and how hard it was to keep your powers under control at school

AND the fact that you spent basically all day half blinded by people’s auras and energy 

You’re totally exhausted

And you don't have time to unpack that today

So naturally as soon as you start to sense that weird energy

Especially that one particularly strong source of it

You pivot and head the other way

You're sure Lydia and Allison must think you're crazy by now but they don't seem to be too phased

Much like with Stiles, you get the sense they’ve seen a lot of weirder shit

And your instincts are never wrong

You know, the whole psychic clairvoyant witch thing

So by the end of the day, you’ve avoided it thus far, and you start to head with Allison and Lydia to the parking lot

You stop suddenly,remembering you forgot your wand in your locker

There’s no way you can leave that at school, so you run back inside, telling them you’ll be right back

Meanwhile, Scott has spent all day chasing down every hint of that scent he possibly can

He’s about to give up when he smells it at the end of the hallway, just around the corner

He was on his way to lacrosse practice

But honestly he couldn’t care less about that right now

He starts running, desperate not to lose the scent again, or lose control

You tuck your wand somewhere safe, then you feel it seconds before it happens

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Your stomach drops and you get that feeling that something is about to happen

And you feel the strong as fuck super intense energy barreling towards you 

A strong chill runs down your body

You turn around right as Scott pins you to your locker, eyes glowing red and as big as the moon, pulse racing

He’s breathing hard, fanning warm over your face

And god, the world shifts and everything makes sense

A shiver runs down his spine, and yours in tandem, and he has to physically hold himself back from kissing you everywhere, from pressing his face into your skin to breathe in your intoxicating scent

The logical part of his brain, the human part is screaming at him not to scare you, stop being weird, at least introduce himself and ask for your name

But the primal part, the wolf part, is too loud

He didn’t know he could feel so protective, so possessive over someone without knowing them

His wolf brain insists he does know you, you’re each other’s…

Each other’s…

That’s it

You’re each other’s

You’re his and he’s yours

God, he’s yours

And he is drawn to you

It’s like you shoved a bear trap in his chest and are pulling him closer and closer by the chain

And he’d let you

He wants you to

Fuck he wants to kiss you

At the same time, you’re trying not to fall over from the sudden force of emotions this guy is feeling for you

You can physically feel how badly he wants you

How much he desires you

Like you’re the only thing that matters

And fuck that weird energy is radiating off of him so close to you

It’s definitely not bad or malicious

You can tell that much

But it’s really really fucking powerful and needs to be treated carefully

The combination of all these things is making you kind of dizzy

And when you look at him

Really snap out of your thoughts and look at the guy pinning you against the wall

Fuck

He’s hot

He’s really hot

His breath over your face in little puffs is hot

It’s all too much

You feel yourself start to fall

You pitch sideways into his arms, blacking out before you can say something or sit down

Scott catches you as you begin to slump against him

Everywhere you touch, he lights on fire

He holds you gently, nuzzling his face against you, finally allowing himself to bask in your addictive, intoxicating scent

You don’t respond to his touch, and he can sense your pulse slowing down

“Fuck!” he growls, snapping out of it and realizing you passed out

He sniffs you closer 

You smell okay, so it's probably nothing serious 

But he has to get you somewhere safe

“Scott?”

Stiles’s voice echoes down the hall

“Scott!” he sees Scott clinging to your unconscious body, eyes glowing and teeth bared

A low growl emanates from his throat as a warning and Stiles freezes in his tracks

He doesn’t think Scott has ever growled at him like that

He barks at Stiles to stay away from you on instinct

A moment passes and you still haven’t woken up yet

He starts to worry

“We need to get to a doctor,” he mutters, suddenly charging past Stiles, with you still in his grip

Stiles chases after him, making a mental note to talk to him about how fucking weird he’s being right now

One very tense jeep ride to Deaton’s later, you’re laying on a table slightly too small for you as Scott rambles, explaining how you passed out

Deaton’s not exactly sure why he’s examining a human and not an animal or supernatural creature, but Scott is way too worked up for him to be hung up on details

Derek had somehow gotten wind of what happened, and is waiting for Deaton to confirm you’re okay so he can give Scott the lecture of a fucking life time

He got a panicked call from Scott’s stupid friend, and now he has to clean up another one of their messes

He’s so ready to yell at Scott, but the second he walks into the building, he smells it

His stomach drops

He runs into the back, throwing open the door, and is overwhelmed by the smell of the mate bond freshly formed between Scott, and you, who’s still lying unconscious

He tries to drag Scott out of the room to talk, but Scott refuses to leave your side, growling and snapping at him

“Okay,” Derek says, “I really didn’t think I was going to have to give you the talk so soon, but…” 

Stiles and Scott protest, while Deaton looks even more uncomfortable than he already had

“Not that talk!” Derek snaps, “...The mate talk.” 

“The mate talk?” Scott asks, “Like…” his words hang unspoken in the air

Derek nods

“Yeah.” 

Using every ounce of willpower in him, Scott manages to tear himself away from your side to step out of the room and talk to Derek, but he insists on standing right outside the door so he can watch you through the window, Stiles following behind him

He’s barely able to pay attention to what Derek is saying

He’s so preoccupied with you

You look so vulnerable on that examination table

It’s not like he thinks Deaton wouldn’t take great care of you or anything, he just wishes he was there to make sure first hand that you’re okay

He doesn’t like that he’s not next to you right now

It brings on a heartache, a devotion he hasn’t ever felt before

“For fucks sake, Scott, pay attention!” Derek snaps, realizing he’s been spacing out

“I’m listening!” Scott counters, and tries to focus on what Derek is telling him

He’s glad Stiles is there to retain the information he’s missing 

It’s like his brain is a sponge that’s been soaking in a bucket full of you, it can’t hold on to anything else

He just wants you to be okay

In the depths of your sleep, you make a mental note to thank your aunts for giving you that book on astral projection (among many other witchy texts and spellbooks) for your birthday 

You flex your hands, feeling them tingling warm with magic, then wiggle your feet, tingling the same way

You continue to gently separate your astral form from your corporeal form, and the dream you had been  having shifts

You’re in what looks like the back office of a vet’s office, a guy in a lab coat stands near you looking concerned

Gently, slowly, you get up and creep towards the door

You watch a rugged looking man with dark hair, and that same energy, explain something seemingly important 

“For fucks sake Scott, pay attention!” 

You look over at Scott, who’s looking back at where you’re presumably still asleep in the back room, and the guy keeps explaining what’s going on

Mates are a rare connection, usually made by alphas, and it’s even more rare for an alpha to have a mate that’s not a werewolf, he tells Scott and Stiles

You look up at Scott

He’s a werewolf

And an alpha

That makes sense, you think, it confirms the feeling you’d had before but couldn’t put into words

With a fresh mate bond (which is what you have) being separated can be painful, and even fatal, so until this calms down you’re basically going to be joined at the hip

You’ll form a deep connection, possibly even some sort of telepathic bond, but most likely you’ll just need to spend enough time together, make sure you’re both doing okay

He’ll probably feel possessive and territorial over you, that’s normal, but it’s also important to keep those feelings in check

Scenting can help with that too

“There’s also the issue of, uh,” Derek looks around awkwardly

He knew he would need to explain ruts at some point, and now that Scott found his mate, he needs to tell him before he gets his first rut

But he feels like now is really not the time or place

“What?” Scott asks with a blank stare

He really has no idea what he’s getting into

“Come by my place this weekend, I’ll tell you then.” 

“Okay,” he says, clearly antsy, glancing back at you, “if that’s everything can I-”

“Fine,” Derek sighs, warning him not to scare you, “and don’t come on too strong!” 

Scott opens the door, rushing into the room

In an instant, you feel yourself getting pulled back to your body as the scene goes dark

You open your eyes, lying on the table, Scott right next to you

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, breathing an obvious sigh of relief 

“I’m… Scott, by the way,” he beams down at you, utter adoration obvious on his face 

“I know,” you smile, turning to the others, “Can we have the room?” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Stiles, Derek, and Deaton awkwardly shuffle out

You’re sure Derek will be able to hear everything you’re saying with the whole werewolf hearing thing, so you choose your words carefully, wanting to keep at least some cards close to your chest

You know there’s not much you’ll be able to hide from him, what with you being mates and all, but you’d like to be a little strategic about how you break some of this to him

He’s still gazing at you, beyond enamored, and it’s like his whole world has shifted

His center of gravity no longer rests an inch below his navel, now it’s wherever you are, and he feels himself swirling and orbiting around you 

You’re the center of his universe

You take his much larger hand in yours and his chest squeezes as the breath is pulled from his lungs

He smiles again, he’s been doing that a lot more around you 

“I know you’re a werewolf,” you start slowly

His stomach drops

“But it’s okay, I’m not freaked out or anything. I actually have something kind of weird to tell you too, but,” your eyes flick over to the door, “I don’t think this is really the ideal time or place.”

“Okay,” he breathes, waiting for you to continue so he can hear more of your voice, sweeter than honey and as soothing as a cozy blanket

“I know we can’t really be far apart because of the whole…” you motion between you two, “mate thing, so if you want we can go back to my place and catch each other up a little?” 

He stares at you as you talk, focus split between your words and how wonderful it is to be around you, and a moment after you’re done he agrees

“Yeah, there’s probably a lot to talk about,” he says with a chuckle

On your way out to the car, you send an incoming spell to your aunts with a quick flick of your wand

It’s a simple spell that tells the recipient something’s coming, mixed with a little bit of the sender’s intention and sometimes a short message, so they can tell if it’s anything dangerous or not

The message you mutter under your breath is “big news, we’ll be home soon, get ready” 

You tuck your wand back into your boot as Scott opens the door of Stiles’ jeep for you, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt for you

Your heart flutters a little at the gesture

Stiles gives you both a ride since he had been your ride over, now under significantly less stress than he had been during your previous drive to Deaton’s clinic

Scott is glued to your side the whole time, radiating heat against you

You’re both sitting in the back, and Stiles grumbles something light hearted about Scott already ditching him for you

A while later, Stiles drops both of you off at your house

It looks slightly out of place in beacon hills, with its looming victorian frame and tall turret protruding into the otherwise clear sky

Various lawn decorations and ornaments made of heavy metals and deep jewel tones (all enchanted and serving a purpose) decorate the yard, kept company by the occasional gnome 

The inside, as Scott will soon find out, is decorated in a similar fashion

Deep, rich jewel tones with eclectic prints and patterns, heavy velvet drapes, and a lot of celestial imagery and detailing cover every room, with books and nicknacks tucked away anywhere there’s space for them

You can sense your aunts freaking out a little, catching a spell book flying across the room through the window

They’re not sure what kind of trouble you got in so soon, but they’re ready to do whatever needs to be done to help you out

You open the door, and everything stops in its tracks

Most of it was out of sight, but you see a few things that had been floating about drop to the floor or skitter to their place on a table in a way that your aunts hope is inconspicuous 

They pause in their tracks about to greet you, when they see Scott

Both of your aunts, and the black cat sitting on the couch in front of a soap opera playing quietly on tv all stare at him curiously

After a moment, aunt Zelda’s eyes go wide in understanding, and she nudges Hilda, who catches on as well as you greet each other

Aunt Zelda addresses you, happy that your home, “and who is this?” she asks, motioning towards Scott

You smile

“Aunt Hilda, Aunt Zelda, this is Scott. He’s my boyfriend,” you say

Scott almost feels dizzy

He really likes being called your boyfriend, much more than he thought he could

He wishes he could hear you say it again

“He’s a werewolf.” you state simply

Scott’s eyes flare, and he looks down at you, what the fuck, dude?? Written all over his face

“Oh,” your Aunt Zelda says, trying to sound surprised

“Is he?” Hilda says rhetorically 

“So, he’s already familiar with all kinds of magic and supernatural stuff. It’s nothing new.”

They let out a sigh of relief, and all the magic that had been ground to a halt flies back to life

A pot in the kitchen starts stirring itself, the items that had been flying around make their way back to their places on shelves and drawers, a broom in the hallway begins to sweep up by itself 

Scott is sure the shock is evident on his face and you giggle, sounding like music from the heavens 

“Scott, these are my aunts, Hilda and Zelda. They’re witches.”  

“Oh,” he says, nodding

That makes more sense

“And I am also a witch. So,” you turn between Scott and your aunts, taking out your wand and flicking it with a swish. The book on the table in front of them flips a few pages, and the letters rearrange themselves with a glimmer into the word mates. Their eyes widen in understanding. “Now that all the cards are on the table, Scott and I have some homework to do, so we’re going to catch up a little and take care of that.” 

“Sure,” Zelda says with a smile, “let us know if you need anything, Scott.” 

“Peanut butter is in the pantry, and I think we have some bone broth in the freezer if you want to-” Hilda says, starting to make a gnawing motion before Zelda smacks her arm

You’d expect nothing less, and you’re relieved as Scott chuckles at the dog jokes

You start to bring him through the living room past the couch to go up to your room and talk a little

You’re a witch

You have a wand and (presumably) spell books and can do literal magic 

Okay, he can totally handle that 

He’s dealt with weirder stuff 

Honestly, he can feel deep in his bones that nothing can pull him away from you

This is nothing more than a slight curve ball

And he actually thinks it’s really fucking cool

He’s processing what he’s seen since entering your house, and it makes sense, he thinks

He’s sure he can handle this, he doubts after all that there’s anything else in the world that could shock him

You pass by the couch, and he hears a deeper voice let out a petulant whine

He turns his head, seeing the black cat who’s been sitting on your couch the whole time

“Is he going to make the whole house smell like wet dog?” 

The cat just spoke

“Gag me.” he groans with a roll of his eyes

“Salem!” you exclaim, dragging Scott away

Okay, maybe that will take some getting used to 

“Sorry about him,” you say as trails after you up the stairs. Your voice is low and intimate, and he feels that deep connection to you again

Everything in him pulls him towards you, towards you warm embrace

Then you gently hold his arm to guide him into your room, flashing a sweet smile his way that makes his chest squeeze and his stomach flip

He’s sure he can handle anything as long as he has you

#scott mccall x reader #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #teen wolf #scott mccall x witch!reader #witch!reader

[umnitsa]

The Sailor's Knot - 2

Summary: Joel slowly makes things better, even if you don't notice.

A/N: Sorry, guys. I take too long to write, tag and everything, but I'm writing <3 I hope you enjoy this! Banner from @cafekitsune <3

Written with unholy eagerness and no proofreading! No beta, we die like english is my second language (and it is! xD).

Pairing: ADHD!Reader x Joel (Reader is also plus size, it just isn't an issue yet. Reader is about Joel's age.)

CW: Depression lifting by the way of serotonin delivered by a handsome man. Reader is also nerdy. First part is here!

The kids kept coming into your house. They would stay at the door and books would exchange hands as they tried to peek inside, just to get a look of the dog sleeping at the floor.

The dog slept a lot. Often over and around you.

Joel started building the fence as soon as the ground permitted, and you joined him, making holes, hammering poles and encouraging him to take breaks and sit inside, whenever he looked in pain.

Which it was all the time.

So you two spent the days inside, talking quietly about unimportant things.

The fence almost started feeling like an excuse. It felt even more of an excuse when he started joining you on walks for the dog’s necessities, while your talks got more philosophical. More profound.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to me.” You said, amusedly, after a particularly entrenched defense you feel you’re experiencing Star Trek, in some way, being in an utopic socialist commune. “Most people find this shit tiring.”

“You’re just a nerd.” Joel scoffed, smirking at you. “I knew it the moment you heard my name and made a Mystery Science Theater 3000 joke.”

“You recognized it! I knew it! And what does it says about say about you now, sir?” You bumped Joel’s arm with your shoulder, laughing. The dog jumped, tail waggling. You crouched to pet the dog, gently tousling his fur. “We need to get him a ball… Or something for a tug of war. I think he’s starting to feel better, and without the fence he can’t run.”

Joel nodded, kicking the ground.

“I like bad movies.” He says, almost shyly. “Cheesy ones. A few tapes reached some friends, and we had some fun.”

“That didn’t made you less cool then and doesn’t make you less cool now, sir.” You say softly, standing up. “And your secret is safe with me.”

Joel laughed.

“I’ll try and get him a rope. And we can make a ball with scraps of old fabric or leather.” He continued breathlessly after his laughter. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Hm?” You ask, absentmindedly walking towards your home.

“You make me stop working when I’m in pain.” He completed, quietly. “You let me rest.”

“I do?” You smirked, leading the dog inside, and holding the door for Joel, silently inviting him inside. “Hm. I hadn’t noticed, I thought it was just being a socialist.”

Joel shook his head, his expression fond, sweet. He stayed at the door, holding the handle.

“I should go back to the fence.” He says, and you can hear the regret in his voice.

“I found a brush.” You say, caressing the dog’s chest. “We should brush him.”

“We?” Joel entered, taking your excuse for him to stay. It made you smile, your chest filling with warmth. You didn’t want him to go, and he didn’t want it either.

“He’s a big dog. It’s better if it’s four arms. Do you have a tshirt on?” You ask, and he looks at his flannel. You could see the undershirt peeking. “It’s hard work, you will get overheated and you will lose whatever you’re wearing for the furstorm, and you will prefer if it is your undershirt.”

“I hope this isn’t some trap to get me half naked.” Joel smirked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You deadpan, which makes Joel chuckle, blushing, and look down. “Also, we need to make him enjoy this, because it’s something he will have done often and it’s better if he agrees to the whole proceedings. I also got good scissors to take care of his beautiful paws.”

“Do you cut hair?” He asked, grunting as he sat on the floor, his hands on the belly of the dog, gently scratching, soothing the animal into a relaxed state.

“Without any style.” You giggle, entering the bedroom, Joel’s chuckle following you. After some rummaging, you came back, in an old, rattled tshirt, holding the brushes. You sat by Joel’s side, crossing your legs and letting the dog sniff the brush. “I just know we have to trim his paws, don’t get excited for a nerdy haircut.”

“He needs a name.” Joel buried his hand on the fur and the dog offered his belly for petting. You started brushing slowly, carefully the dog’s neck and he closed his eyes, relaxed. “We should had thought of that.”

“You’ll hate all my ideas. Damn, I kinda hate my ideas.” you chuckled.

“Tell me.”

“Well…” You hesitated. “First one was Clifford.”

“He isn’t red, but damn he is big.” Joel chuckles.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t look like a Clifford to me. So… Cujo.” You cringe, chuckling. “I thought the irony of calling this sweetheart Cujo would be funny, but with those big eyes? I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“I see that.” Joel chuckled.

“I’ll call him Dog.” You say softly. “After another book.”

“Yeah?” Joel scrunched his face, focused, trying to find the reference.

“Yeah. Walt Longmire. I really liked those books.” You started picking the loose fur and piling it to the side. “Shame I didn’t get to read the last one before... you know.”

“What is it about?” He asked, carefully watching you combing Dog’s neck as he stretched.

“It’s a western neo noir. A detective series.” You nodded, holding Joel’s hand. He stared into your eyes, tense for a moment, as you push the brush on his hand. “He’s the sheriff of a small county in Wyoming. I like that not all the mysteries are murders.”

You held Joel's hand and guide it over Dog, in long brushes. Once you see he got the hang of it, you stand up.

Under Joel's curious and confused stare, you got into your trove of books and picked a small paperback, bringing it to Joel.

“I really think you would like him.” You placed the book over his flannel on the couch, then sat back beside Joel, the pile of fur just getting bigger beside you.

Dog grumbled, stretching.

“Yeah?” Joel asked softly.

“He is also an older, poetic soul, marred by war and loss.” You nod, your hand brushing over his as you pull loose fur. You continued, quietly. “Like us.”

Joel nodded, quietly, extending the brush to you. He held your hand as you pick it, then tugged you forward. He kissed your forehead, his nose pressed against your hair, both his hands around yours. You close your eyes, breathing deeply, willing to stay in that position for as long as he held you.

Dog grumbled and snorted, raising his head.

You felt Dog’s wet, soft tongue on your cheek, moistening the skin. You chuckled.

“Two handsome dangerous-looking gentlemen kissing me. Feels like I’m blessed. No danger shall reach me.”

Joel pulled back, smiling fondly. He caressed your cheek, then patted Dog, who laid down, offering his belly. With a chuckle, he went back to pulling the fur. ***

Joel appeared the next day with Ellie, Maria, Tommy and some others. While Maria checked on the dog, Joel led everybody else to the fence. It was finished that day.

You thanked everybody involved, promised things that didn’t matter. People agreed you looked better. You could see they looked relieved you were alive and looked well.

Something snapped inside your heart the moment you realized Joel would go back to his life and you suddenly had no excuses to keep him around you.

As people said their good byes, Joel stayed back.

“You didn’t get rid of me.” Joel bumped against your arm, jostling you playfully. You turned to him, wide eyed, facing his pleasant grin. “Now we built the headquarters, the meetings start.” You just stared, wide eyed, completely taken by his playful expression.

You had never seen Joel like this.

“I don’t understand.” You said, distracted by his eyes.

“Talked to Dog and we are gonna start the ‘Handsome Dangerous-looking Old Gentlemen Club’.” Joel placed one hand on his pocket, head tilting towards you. “We have daily meetings.”

You laugh, patting his chest.

“Wanna have the first meeting now? I bet Dog would love to fetch his ball in the yard.” You point at the door, Joel nods, following you. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you’re coming back to us, Sunshine.” He said softly, holding your shoulder and kissing the top of your head.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #mayb writes

[cannibalizedlove]

hey id love to request a jimmy oneshot where the (male) reader is working the midnight shift at a convenience store, and Jimmy notices them while walking by during his midnight walks nd buys a cigarette pack (only to get some attention) and just basically jimmy trying to shoot his shot with the reader !! idk if youd do this req because it's a small fandom and Jimmy (entergalactic) is voiced by timothee :)) but id hope you consider giving Entergalactic a watch and maybe write the oneshot ! also totally random but reminder to stay hydrated and drink your water 🫶

Jimmy is the cutest, thank you so much for this ask, I literally love him. I just rewatched the movie to freshen my memory for this request! Also, I couldn’t resist using this gif, can you blame me? Hope you enjoy <3

Can I get you something.

Information and warnings — x male reader, flirting, smug Jimmy, the trio being silly, awkward Jimmy trying to land pick up lines, first time meeting, fluff.

You rubbed your eyes as you opened the shop door, the familiar ringing of the bell reminding you that you’re clocked in for a 7 hour shift.

You flicked the remaining bud of your joint as you flipped the “Be back soon” sign back to “Open.”

The first thirty minutes of your shift were spent playing a cat-themed candy crush rip off while sipping a tall boy version of a Coca Cola, avoiding your duties of shop clean up and restock.

You were enjoying your silence and lack of work while still being paid, as trio of overtly intoxicated men stumbled into your convenience store.

“I’m Jabari and I’m too scared to fuck my fine ass neighbor, cause I’m scared of pussy! Wah Wah.” The tallest one announced, picking on his friend as he ripped a Monster energy out of the holder.

The one you assumed was Jabari, pushed his friend in a half joking, half fuck off way as he grabbed out two cases of beer, either taking the party home, or to another trap-house.

Yet over all of the commotion, your eyes were drawn to the last one to come in, he was scrawny with a shaved head, and seemed more airy opposed to stumbling; definitely more high than drunk.

You continued to swipe for three matching cats, occasionally looking up to see Buzzcut grabbing handfuls of roadtrip-esque snacks to satisfy his munchies. Though, you’d quickly push your head down and fumble with something on the counter to “act busy” when he’d catch your stare, which seemed to be every-time you’d look at him.

You wondered if he was staring at you in return, but hurriedly shook the idea as you remembered you worked behind the counter at a dingy convenience store; and these guys looked like big deals. ‘Selling doritos, snowballs and corn dogs wasn’t the most attractive thing to guys’ you thought as the men plopped down their items on your counter.

“Just these, man.” Jabari smiled before he continued to argue with the taller man about not piping his supposedly very attractive neighbor. You agreed with him, but kept silent as you scanned the slew of beer and midnight snacks.

“Jimmy would agree with me, he’d totally say hit it and leave it! Wouldn’t you, Jimmy?” The man announced, his sunglasses sliding down his nose, perfectly agreeing with his smug smirk.

“No! I actually would never, Ky, because I do not sleep around! I only do that once I’m settled down, which I’m not, but would like to be, you know this.” Jimmy, you knew him now as, said defensively, his head jerking to you in a gesturing manner, basically saying ‘don’t blow my cover.’

“Ohh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Very committed and very saintly; I know that about you.” Ky chuckled as he pushed his sunglasses up. “Go get your man!” He said in a hushed tone, earning an elbow to the ribs from Jimmy and grabbed a case of beer, telling Jabari to get the other, leaving Jimmy to get his bag of cheap snacks.

“I’ll be just a second, guys!” Jimmy waved his friends off as he leaned against your counter, earning a small giggle and smirk from you as you watched him begin to start his ‘‘smooth’’ flirting.

“Can I get you something?” You said after a moment of silence staring at eachother, you wouldn’t mind looking at him quietly for a few more seconds, but also wanted to talk to him and see where this went.

“Oh, you know what, I forgot to get smokes, that’s what I was missing! Can you grabbed me some camel filters, red?” He said in a shaky, nervous voice as he gave you a bashful smile.

You plucked the pack from above you, placing them infront of the both of you while a smug smile; waiting to see where he goes with this small interaction. Jimmy began to reach for his wallet, cutting his losses and sighing under his breath knowing it would be awkward to keep it going.

“On the house, you seem good for it.” You bit your cheek and leaned against the counter yourself, mirroring him and meeting him at eye level; somehow hes even more pretty this close.

Jimmy smiled and let out a breathy laugh as he looked to the side, seeing his two friends watching through the window and nodding profusely with thumbs up.

“Thank you, you don’t have to, but I’d never turn down free smokes.” Jimmy said in singy songy tone, pocketing the pack and moving slightly closer to you, staring at your lips.

“Big party tonight? What’s the celebration?” Your eyes trailing to his lips yourself, once again mirroring him, watching as he swallowed thickly at your advances. “Celebrating life, baby, always making it a party.” Jimmy said with a goofy laugh, he was sarcastic, but you knew he was the type of guy to bring the party wherever he went.

“Would love to have you join us, if you wanted to?” Jimmy swallowed thickly, looking up at you with knitted eyebrows, he was shooting his shot and looking absolutely stunning while doing it, you couldn’t turn him down if your life depended on it, but you knew you couldn’t just drop your shift for a party.

“My boss would have my ass.. any chance you’re free tomorrow afternoon? I still wanna see you.” You admitted with a soft smile, seeing Jimmy’s eyes go from pitifully sad from the start of your sentence, to being wide with joy at the end.

“Lunch? There’s this burger joint down the block, I could meet you there, or pick you up. Anything you want.” Jimmy smiled and balanced on his tippy toes with a few taps on your counter, unable to hide his excitement.

You wrote your phone number down on his receipt, along with your address with a smiley face, smirking as you slide it over to him. Jimmy launched for it and grabbed it hastily, smiling widely and began to make his way out of the store.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He said, looking back as he reached for the door handle, embarrassed for being so caught up in your looks before even asking you a basic question.

“Y/N. See you at lunch, party animal.” You giggled as you waved goodbye to him, going back on your phone, updating your friends about the cute guy asking you out.

“Later, pretty boy!” Jimmy yelled out with his arms raised, while laughing as your heard Ky and Jabari praise him for his flirting game.

The three men walked away as they slapped Jimmys back, pushed into him and cheered for him.

“Got a fucking address, number and a date, boys! We’re so fuckin in!” Jimmy screamed out into the night sky, overjoyed and slapping the receipt with a dopey smile.

#timothee chalamet #fanfic #timothee imagine #lil timmy tim #male reader #timothee chalamet x male reader #timothée x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #entergalactic #entergalactic fanfic #timothee jimmy #entergalactic jimmy

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

It Was Just A Dream... Chapter Two

Summary: Frankie is all moved in, or is he? A cute game of cat and mouse has an ending you wouldn’t expect, Frankie’s mood swings end with an outcome neither of them expected.  Words: 5,000+ Rating: 18+ Adult Themes Warnings/Triggers:  Addiction, Falling for Your Brothers Friend, Language, OFC is somewhat described as someone with longer hair, but no race/eye color/body type  

A/N: I don’t know much about addiction, just the things that I googled and seen portrayed on TV. This is completely an AU. I had the beginning of this story pop in my head randomly and thought it sounded fun to explore. Sure we all love Frankie was that sweet puppy dog…but what if he had his own inner demons he had to battle with.  The ‘coke charge’ was mentioned in TF and I kinda wanted to explore that side of him. 

**This is written asa  first person, and it's my first time writing in first person, so please be gentle with me. I also include Frankie's POV which will be Bold and Italics

It took two days, four, well three and a half strong men moved all of Frankie’s stuff. My house might be small, but the best part. Despite only having two bedrooms, the bedrooms are huge. The guest room is slightly smaller than my master and there isn’t an attached bathroom but still plenty is space for his stuff. I kept the small desk there, well honestly that was the only thing I had there. Five years of living here and my guest room was still empty. Mostly why I think Benny volunteered my space, I was also someone he knew. All of Frankie’s belongings were still in taped boxes. We didn’t know how long Benny was going to be gone, it made sense to bring more than just a duffle bag of stuff. 

It's been two weeks since he had moved in, his clothes still in boxes, extra bedding still in boxes. He’s been wearing the same gray sweatpants and black shirt since he got here. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a man in specifically gray ones as much as the next girl, but he hasn’t changed. I don’t even know if he has showered. Seeing him all mopey is making me mad and slightly frustrated. I know he would much rather be back at what has been his home for years, but he needs help and I want to help. I just have no idea what I am doing. I’m feeling guilty making him move, and I know I shouldn’t. 

Thanks to having no social life I had a lot of PTO built up, I’ve been off these two weeks trying to help him feel at home. It’s been mostly awkward living with him when it shouldn’t. Awkward grunts, one word answers, he eats alone despite my best efforts. Yesterday he came out of his room and talked to me, it was about a cricket outside his window that just wouldn’t shut up. It was the first time he seemed to be normal? Is that even the right word, what is normal? 

It’s late afternoon, and he had been in his room the entire day. Walking past his room and I see him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the boxes sitting along the wall picking at his fingernails. He has had mood swings that have him going from happy to sad in seconds.  I thought about walking past him again, keep going on with my day.  But I couldn’t stand seeing the boxes still stacked. It felt like he was ready to move as soon as Benny stepped foot on American soil again, and I was terrified of seeing him live like he didn’t belong here.  I stop and gently tap on the open door, “hey…you want some help with those?”

He doesn’t look up at me, instead he just continues to stare at the box, “there’s just so much, I don’t know where to start” he takes a deep breath hanging his head 

I walk into his room, he is still sitting on the bed. I grab the top box labeled ‘shirts’ and then turn back towards him. I tap his foot with mine, motioning with my head he needs to move. He stands up and watches as I drop the box on the bed and start grabbing a few shirts and put them in one of the many empty drawers. I hear him sigh with disapproval and I look at him “What?” I groan in frustration 

“They need to be folded neatly, and by color. As well as style, but it’s fine…it’s fine. I’ll just do it later” he rubs the back of his neck

Call it being a perfectionist, I call it someone who was trained that everything always had to have order.  Everything needed to have crisp lines, be organized.  Having its rightful spot, years of military training would do this to a person and I was all too aware that it wasn’t fine.

I pull the shirts back out of the drawer, hoping he doesn’t see my eye roll and I set them back in the box. I didn’t expect this to be easy, but I also didn’t expect I was going to have to be his mother and not a friend. I didn’t think I was going to have to tell Frankie to eat, to take a shower. All the things I thought he already knew, was he like this in rehab? “Then refold the shirts and put them in the drawer” shit was that too aggressive? “I think I might make you feel more at home if you do” I put a hand on his shoulder gently rubbing it. 

I watch as he takes a shirt out, folds it meticulously. The edges of the shirt are perfect, he sets it on the bed, his hand running over the shirt, taking out any wrinkles. Every shirt has an order, by color, type, it is memorizing watching him as he moves. Folding every time with such perfection. I have to shake my head and snap out of it, I grab another box and open it to find it stuffed with boxers. He is completely focused on his shirts as I work to put the boxer briefs in a drawer hoping the fold in half method works for him. 

I pull out black pair after black pair.  There was an occasional gray mixed in. After seeing him in those gray sweatpants for the past two weeks my mind can’t help but imagine him in these and how great they would make his thighs look, his…’stop.  Don’t think about that. He’s now your roommate you can’t do that’ all those thots fall when I pull out a baby blue pair with little cat heads wearing headsets. Different types of helicopters fill the empty space between the cat faces. I can’t but giggle holding them up, Frankie stops what he is doing and looks up, “care to explain these” holding the boxers in the air and shake them, I arch an eyebrow at him smiling 

He reaches across and snatches them from my hands “nope…” he paused for a moment fold the boxers in half “you got them” he places them on the bottom of the drawer under the pile of black ones 

“I did?” I truly don’t remember. One would think someone would remember getting boxers that looked like that 

“Yeah, Christmas a few years ago” he returns his focus to the shirts in the box

”Oh my God, you’re right. I did” I laugh

”You said, that I was impossible to shop for, and you wanted something unique to remember you when I was away” 

Frankie is the most impossible person to shop for. He always would say he didn’t need anything, he said to not waste money on a guy like him. He wasn’t worth it. I watch Frankie roll his eyes as I tell him again that he is impossible to shop for. A hint of a smile begins to appear and I think that we might have a breakthrough. I finished the box I was working on, broke it down and leaned it against the wall. Frankie pulls out his last shirt and folds it, setting it on the top of a pile. Grabbing the small stack he turns and starts to put them in the top drawer. I grab the box and start to break it down when I see a film strip inside. I reach in and grab the photos. 

I stare at them, a clean shaven, wide-eyed twenty something Francisco Morales. I had a photo from this shoot, but I never saw these two. It was before his first deployment and the guys went and did some ‘glamor shots’ as a gag gift. Frankie’s in a purple shirt and leather jacket. His brown hair falling perfectly into place. The first photo his hands are in his back pockets. Showing off his impressive chest and broad shoulders, his smile that makes one’s heart beat a little faster and an instant panty dropper. The other, I swear, he could have been a model. His arms crossed over his chest. His biceps bursting the seams of his jacket, his lips pursed together in a brooding expression. Holy shit, he’s hot…“What do we have here?”

Frankie turns and looks at me, it takes a moment for him to realize what I’m holding in my hand. “Give those here” he reaches for them and I quickly pull them away

”Nope…” I laugh and hold them up, inspecting the photos a bit more

”Lex” he says, a bit more authoritative, it’s deep and it’s sexy. He takes a step towards me, I take a couple small steps towards his open door. I try to keep a distance between us 

I have a small idea, “you want them?” I ask slowly moving backward closer to the door, he starts to close the distance nodding his head yes, “then you’ll just have to come and get them” I smile and turn to run through the door. 

He bolts out of the room following me, I forget how fast he is and how incredibly silent he can be. He’s on my heels in an instant and I run a circle around the couch. Heading past him and into the kitchen, stopping at one end of the small island. He’s facing me on the other side “Lex…” he says.  I smile, laugh and run past his outstretched arm.  

“Gotta be quicker than that Morales” I ran around the house again, waiting for him to turn and find me again. I lose my breath as I’m back in his room, the bed as a barrier between us. I look at the photos and see him strut back into his room. I clearly didn’t think this through completely as I find myself trapped on the one side of the bed. Frankie blocking the only exit. He starts to walk around the bed, he’s standing at the end while I move further up closer to the headboard. I’m waiting for him, I have my escape planned. He fakes a step to the left towards me and I step up onto his bed. The piles of shirts start to fall when I bring my other foot up. He reaches across the bed, “Bad move, Miller” he snarls and wraps a hand around my ankle pulling it out and dropping me to the bed. 

I hold the photos above my head, he pulls me closer. Placing his thigh is between my legs and crawling the bed until  he’s hovering over my body. We’re both laughing and I struggle to keep the photos out of his reach. His large hand captures both of my wrists and pins them to the bed. I squirm below him, trying to break free.  “Stop moving” he grunts, his other hand lands on my hip. Holding me tightly in place, my shirt slightly raised and his thumb slowly rubbing against my bare skin. Our laughter slowly turns into heavy breathing. 

His face is so close, I can feel his warm breath. His eyes are so full of life now, I see the small parts of the old Frankie. The Frankie that became a friend, family, a crush. My heart is pounding and I am pretty positive Frankie can hear it, his hand is setting my skin on fire and I have no idea what is happening. But I want to kiss him, I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his lips on mine. “Frankie…” I whisper 

“Hmmm” he leans closer to me, his nose brushing along mine 

I don’t know what I was going to say, I didn’t imagine us ending up like this. I clearly didn’t think this through and I have no idea what to do. Time seems to move slow, and I don’t know how long we stay like this. His eyes focused on mine, I feel like he is looking into my soul. Does he want me to kiss him? Should I kiss him? His hand still wrapped around my wrists, the other still holding my hip. 

“KISS HIM ALREADY” my inner voice yells. I finally make a move, I close the short distance between, my lips just about to touch his when my phone rings in my back pocket. His hand releases my wrists and he sits up on the bed. I close my eyes, wishing I didn’t take so long to make the move. I reach behind me, pulling out my phone. It was work, I smiled and mouth a sorry to him, sliding the answer button and bringing the phone to my ear. “Hello” I stand and walk out of his room 

“Why didn’t I kiss her? She was right there…would she even want me to kiss her?” He thinks to himself, running his fingers through his hair 

He looks at himself in the mirror. The same sweatpants he’s been wearing for well over a week, he looked like a hot mess. At least the shirt was clean, or he thought his shirt was clean. He sees the unruly hair, the 5 o’clock shadow had turned into a fully grown beard. “Because you're a pathetic loser, look at you. She’d never want you to kiss her” that negative voice inside him says. Frankie shakes his head, hands covering his face. He rubs his eyes and tries to remember Will telling him wasn’t.  But the thing is, Will was never a very good liar and the voice becomes louder and louder. 

“Fishie…hey Fish” her voice brings him back. He looks up at her “hey, you ok?

“yeah…yeah” he says, but her face tells him she doesn’t believe him. 

“uhm, ok.  I gotta run to work for a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be home but there’s money on the table. Order some take out”  

He nods, giving her his best smile and watches as she walks away. He hears the door open and close.  Standing up he peeks his head out the door, he doesn’t hear her. He just needs to take the edge off. He knows he will feel a lot better when he can’t feel anything again. He knows he doesn’t have much left, but enough to last him at least today. He’ll worry about tomorrow-tomorrow. Thank God he hid the green can well enough that Alex didn’t find it. Just one hit, that’s all he needs.

“Take a shower, you’ll feel better after a shower. You’re better than this” he can hear Will’s voice. 

It didn’t.

“Food, get some food. Don’t do this Cat” the voice says

My phone dances on my desk as I finish some paperwork. I had plenty of PTO built up, but the doctor's office had an influx of new patients and I was one of the few who knew how to enter all the data and get them set up. It wasn’t where I pictured myself when I graduated college with a degree in film.  But it’s a good paying job, and it kept me close to home. 

Fishie 🐟: u like Pad Thai 🍲 

Me: Not really, and I don’t think that’s Pad Thai haha

Fishie 🐟: oh ok what u want? 

I type back a response, telling him to order what he wants. The money on the table was for him to do what he wanted. I might not like Pad Thai, but that shouldn’t stop him from ordering it. I finish typing a few things and grab my phone. I walked over to some of my coworkers who were getting ready to head out as well. I lean against Laura’s desk. She was chatting with a few of the nurses, I watched my phone as the little bubble with dots popped up, then disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared again. I sigh, my head drops. His mood swings are driving me insane. 

Me: I like noodles, with teriyaki sauce if that counts as Pad Thai

“What’s up Buttercup” Laura smiles cheerfully

”Have you ever had to help a friend with an addiction?” I look up, the mouths all open “seriously. A friend, not me” 

“What kind of addiction?” Laura asks, she was my go-to at work. Her upbeat attitude always had the answers 

“Narcotics…” I reply 

Is this friend living with you?” a nurse asks 

I tell them how the friend just got out of rehab, I leave out the part that the friend is a he, and the he is Frankie. I tell them how rehab said something about how they shouldn’t be left alone, doctors orders they need to live with someone in case of a relapse. “Sometimes I feel like I see the person I became friends with, then sometimes hhhh-they are a completely different person. Someone I don’t even know and it’s only been two weeks” 

“Just keep being there for them, don’t push too hard. But they need to know you are there for him. I mean them, no matter what it is, they can trust you” she puts a hand on top of mine 

“You can’t give up on them.  No matter how hard they try to push you away, you push back. They’ll have their moments but like Laura said, you just need to be there. Letting them know you won’t give up on them” 

“Thanks,” I take a deep breath and stare at my phone, he still hasn’t responded “I just wish I knew what he needed, he doesn’t talk” 

“Give it time, he will open up when he’s ready” 

'Did she just say he? How does she know' I think

I walk into the house, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse off on the little side table. I hear grunting from down the hall. ‘Oh please don’t tell me he has a girl here’ I think to myself moving towards his room. “Frankie?” 

T-Shirts he had just folded and pants were thrown into the hall. I move towards the open door dodging pants being thrown out as I get close, I look into his room and it looks like a tornado hit. The mattress shoved against the wall, drawers empty and pulled from the dresser, clothes thrown around the room. I see Frankie bent over in his closet he had on a new pair of dark green sweats on, he’s shirtless. Little water droplets still cling to his hair and a towel draped over the back of a chair. 

“Where the fuck is it?!” he shouts as I watch him throw more things around. 

“Where is what?” I ask, and instantly regret it 

He turned quickly looking at me, his eyes filled with rage and nostrils flaring. I’ve never seen this look before, and he slowly starts to walk towards me. There’s an evil glint to his eye and it scares me. 

“Where the fuck did you put it Alexandra?” He snarls 

“If you told me what you are looking for…” I tried to not raise my voice, trying to keep calm. He needs me to remain calm. 

“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR! DON’T PLAY STUPID” 

The yelling intensifies and I know the neighbors can hear us, stay calm. Don’t make things worse. 

What happened to the Frankie from earlier? 

“I need you to calm down, Frankie. Please. Just tell me what you're looking for and I can help” I wanna put my hand on his shoulder, ground him. Let him know I’m here, but he’s breathing heavy, his lip curls up in an evil grin. 

“I know you have it!” he says in an oddly calm manner, “JUST GIVE IT TO ME!!!” He yells 

He takes a step closer, he raises his fist. I flinch as the closed hand comes flying towards me and it connects with the wall inches from my head. “Give it to me now Alex” he growls

“What in the hell is your problem!?” I yell shoving his chest back

“You! Benny! This stupid fucking place. I don’t want to be here!” His eyes begin to water and a tear streams down his cheek, he takes a couple steps back

“Fine, then fucking leave! No one is forcing you to be here Francisco” I try to hold back by own tears “I am sick and tired of seeing you being all mopey and shit.  You don’t want to be here, FINE” 

Shit…I am pretty sure I just over stepped. I go to open my mouth to apologize and there is a hard knock at the door followed by a “Police” 

“You called the Police?” He shouts 

“I’ve been standing in front of you the entire time arguing with you. When would I have had time to call the police?” I say, I back up and move towards the front door. The knocks become more aggressive “I’m coming!” 

I unlock the door and see three officers standing there. They all have a concerned look on their faces

”Good evening ma’am. We got a call about some yelling and wanted to make sure everything was ok” the taller officer said

”Everything is fine. It’s great. Just swell” my words are dripped with sarcasm

“Do you mind stepping outside to talk to my partner Officer James” he looks over my shoulder and sees Frankie, “hey there sir.  Mind coming over here for a moment?” 

He is sitting on the porch as she stands by the car. He fucked up, she’s given up on him. He’s given up on himself. 

“What’s your name?” The youngest officer asks him 

Frankie reads the name printed on his chest. T. Baker. “Frank, my name is Frank and everything is fine Officer Baker” 

Baker keeps asking bin questions.  What happened, did she hit him. Did he hit her? How long has he been living here? What was their relationship? Frankie becoming more annoyed with each question. What did it matter? He fucked things up and he needed a hit more then ever. He was looking for his coke, she found him on a downward spiral but there was no way he was going to tell him that. Suddenly the questions take a turn, when Officer Baker notices a tattoo on his chest. 

“What branch?” 

“Excuse me” Frankie responds confused 

“Your tattoo?”

“Oh yeah, Army. Special Ops, I was a pilot” 

He has a tattoo on the left side of his chest, a helicopter flying. A sun and clouds shaded in the background. The helicopter with incredible detail, one of the ones he first learned how to fly. A few men repelling from the bird.  Just below a group of trees

“Thank you for your service sir.  Wait here, I have some stuff for you” Baker nods his head and walks to the patrol car 

He watches him shuffle down the stairs, he sees Alex and for a moment they lock eyes. His heart nearly stops as he sees the tears in her eyes that she quickly wipes away. He caused this pain and for what, a stupid little hit that was nearly enough to take away the pain. He ruined everything. The afternoon was so great, and now she wants him out. Officer Baker was walking back with a stack of papers in his hand. 

“For the hundredth time, he didn’t hurt me. He would never do that” I groaned. I have said the same thing over and over. Are they trying to get a different answer? Despite Frankie punching a hole in the wall, he would never lay a hand on me. 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes taking in a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I see Frankie. His eyes locked onto mine. The hurt, the pain, he looks lost. The officer hands him a stack of papers. His hands shaking as he takes them, he turns his head down and he walks into the house. 

“Ms. Miller, if you need anything else please give us a call” the officer sees his small notebook and sticks it in his chest pocket. “Have a good night” he walks past me and heads to his car. 

I head to the steps of my front porch watching the officer who had spoken to Frankie walk down. He stops me before I walk past him, “he’ll be ok. Just give it time. I’ve been there. He’s got a good girlfriend, just be patient with him” 

I stop in my tracks, my jaw drops. What the hell did Frankie tell him? “Wait…what?” I ask. But it was too late, the officer already getting back into his car. I shake my head and walk into the house locking the door behind me. 

It’s getting late and I’m hungry. I walk past the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and notice Frankie bent over picking up the clothes that had been thrown into the hallway. I should say something, I should apologize to him. I get distracted, watching the muscles in his back strain with every movement. ‘Focus Alex’. What is wrong with me, this man just put me through a roller coaster of emotions. I can’t get distracted by something as stupid as watching him work. 

I shake my head and walk towards the kitchen. I hope to find some leftover takeout since I know the fridge is empty. Instead I find the $20 left on the table in the same exact place I left it. I can’t leave, that would require me letting Frankie know, and it might be petty but I really don’t want to talk to him right now, maybe even for the rest of the night. I open the freezer and pray that the ice cream is still there. I open the door and find the pint of cookie dough ice cream still sitting there. I do a little happy dance and grab a spoon. I make my way to the living room and flop down on the sofa, turning on the TV and pop the top off digging in. 

“I fucked up…” he says to himself folding the shirts, putting them back in the dresser. He pushes the mattress back onto the frame and sits on the edge of his bed. He looks up and sees the hole he had punched into the wall. An image of Alex’s face floods his memory. He fucked up so bad that she didn’t even say two words to him when she came back into the house. He left the pamphlets on the coffee table, she’s going to find them. He knows it.

The papers were for local rehabs where VA’s held sobriety classes.  They had everything from AA to NA to Gambling. He didn’t want to go to rehab again, he felt more alone then he ever had there. That’s where he met George, well Steve really. He made it though those 30 days thanks to him smuggling in just enough coke to help them both function like normal adults. Nicole, well she helped in other ways. One keeping his secret and she helped him take his mind off things when he was able to bury himself in her. She wasn’t who he wanted, but she was there.  She was a quick fuck. It didn’t mean anything, and he felt bad when he told her it wasn’t going to last when he left. His mind racing with all these thoughts, he’ll finish cleaning later. He’ll patch the hole tomorrow. Right now he has something bigger to take care of. He needs to repair this whatever-ship he had with Alex. He needs her. 

He plops on the couch next to her, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, she focused on the ice cream in her hand and the moving pictures on the TV

”Ice cream for dinner?” He asks ‘great icebreaker Morales, you idiot’ his inner demon mocks him 

“Yeah, the perk of being an adult. No one can tell me what to eat Franklin” she stuffs another spoon into her mouth, “that and someone didn’t buy dinner like I told them too” 

‘She called me Franklin…maybe she’s not that mad’ he reads her face, it’s softened…a hint of a smile. Then she said that last part, and it changes to instant regret. She turns to look at him “shit. I’m so sorry that was-“ 

“No…no I deserved that” he interrupts her, “can I have a bite?” 

She eyes him, something between a grin and a smirk on her face. She sticks the spoon into the ice cream and scoops out a tiny pile, moving the spoon to his open mouth. 

“I’m sorry Lex he says mouth full of ice cream

He looks at the ground, he’s picking at his nails. I can see the inner struggle he’s having and it breaks my heart, I have no idea how to help. I watch as his mind tries to find the words he wants to say. I go to open my mouth, but he stops me “I am really sorry” he says again 

“What happened today?” I ask him setting the ice cream on the table and turning to face him 

“I was looking for…fuck…I was looking for some coke. I thought I had some left. I am so sorry. I didn’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. Rehab didn’t do shit” he’s talking fast and I’m trying to keep up. 

He tells me about George, how they were doing just enough to get by.  Nicole helped them not get caught. He doesn’t know how George was able to get the contraband in, but he did. They exchanged information, and he was helping Frankie. He wasn’t doing as much as he used to, which I guess is good, he thought he had some left.  A small tin can was what he was looking for, he was terrified that I found it when we were unpacking. 

“How many days has it been?” I ask 

“I don’t know, maybe five days?” He doesn’t sound very positive 

“Maybe five days? How many days Frankie?” 

“Three…it’s been three days and I am going crazy” he says ‘then we almost kissed and I panicked and I was on edge and just needed a hit’ he thinks to himself 

“ok” she says and stands up. 

“Wait where are you going?” He asks, panic setting in 

He’s worried that she is going to get his bag, she’s gonna ask him to leave. This is too much, this isn’t what she signed up for. She’s given up on him. His head falls back, he wants this couch to eat him alive. He wanted to disappear before and that feeling is ten times worse, now that she knows his secret. 

She comes back a large poster in her hand, the other has a sharpie and stickers. She sits it on the table and sits on the floor next to Frankie. He watches as she makes little boxes, writing dates, making a calendar. Her tongue peeks out of her tongue as she concentrates on the task at hand. He leans forwards, and continues to watch over her shoulder. She looks up at him, “ok did you use today?”

He shakes his head no “I couldn’t find it”

“right..” she puts a little star sticker on today's date “and you said three days since the last time”

He nods. She puts a sticker on the past three days

“What are you doing?” He asks 

That was a great question. What was I doing? This idea sounded crazy in my head, even more crazy as I explained to Frankie. It would be like a reward chart.  Something like when you were a kid and had chores, you’d get a sticker for each thing completed. The more stickers you get a reward. The more I say this, and look at his face of confusion the more dumb this idea sounded. He isn’t a kid, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. 

“This is stupid, just forget it.” I sigh pushing the stuff away from me

His large hands stop the poster from moving, he brings it closer. 

“What is my reward?” He asks curiously 

“Uhm…what do you want?” 

“Pancakes…” he says

”Pancakes? Really?” and he nods “ok how about we start with a week, you make it a week, I’ll make you pancakes” 

“With sprinkles?” His boyish smile is back, his eyes wide and I have a little hope that this stupid, wacky, insane idea might work

I smile and nod at him. I move to sit next to him on the couch, “I’ll have to go buy some. But sure, you can have sprinkles” 

“Hey Lexi, one more thing?” He asks “Can we get some helicopter stickers?”

I smile and cup his cheek, my thumb gently brushing the trimmed beard, “yes Franklin. We can get some helicopter stickers” 

ANN: A huge shout out to @musings-of-a-rose for helping me with this and giving me confidence to post this in first person. I am still terrified of it. @theewokingdead and @heythere-mel for listening to my random ass ideas at all hours. I love each and every one of you.



Looking for more of my fics check out my masterlist. And check out other writers at @littlemisspascal and their library for all Pedro Characters



Just A Dream Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

#Christina Writes #Just A Dream #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Characters #Frankie Morales #Francisco Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal Characters Fan Fic #Frankie Morales x OFC #Original Female Character #Frankie x F!Reader #triple frontier au

[pttwice]

Hey Joon! how are you? 🦇

I found your blog a few days ago, if I remember correctly, and it has become one of my favorites! In my head live rent-free little vampire!Mina, little werewolf!Sana and little werewolf!Momo.

It's totally adorable.

So, I was looking at my dog (he's such a chaotic big baby) and although he's super smart and everything, he doesn't know how to catch for his dear life. Then I thought about what it would be like Mina trying to teach the puppies how to play catch! I get the impression that Sana would be super hyperactive, epically failing to catch the ball because she runs so fast and ends up tripping, while Momo stays in place and really tries, but just makes big chomp chomps when she bites the air and doesn't catch the ball at all.

It seemed very funny and adorable to me, and I thought you would also enjoy this mini idea.

hi hi nyul 🦇! :) i'm so glad that you've been enjoying my blog and what i write. it means a lot! i also think about little vampire!mina and the pups all the time. i don't know if i could do this justice for a whole fic, but i definitely have some thoughts about the pups learning how to play catch!

little werewolf!sana and little werewolf!momo had only ever played with rope toys and squeaky toys when they were with little vampire!mina and her mamas

whenever mina bought a ball for the pups, they were afraid of it at first. sana growled at it and momo hid from it. they didn't play with the ball for the first half hour that it was in the house. mina would try to roll it to them to get them to play with it and they'd either bark and growl at it or go to a different room and ignore it altogether

sana was the first to touch it with her nose and make it roll. once she saw that it wasn't hurting her or mina, she kept pushing it with her nose. momo took a little coaxing (and a few treats) until she touched the ball

after a few touches of the ball, the pups were hooked and kept trying to steal it from each other. mina was happy just watching the pups play, but her mamas suggested teaching them how to catch it and play fetch

in theory this was a great idea, but in practice it was much more complicated. the pups were amazing protectors but not the brightest when it came to learning new skills

mina spent hours trying to get them to learn fetch. the best she could get them to do (and still do even months later) was funny but wasn't the most impressive

sana could catch the ball and return it if mina threw it straight up in the air, but if it was even an inch over her head or too short of a throw, she'd try to run after it and trip over her paws or something else

one time, mina threw the ball so high that sana tried to catch it mid-air and ended up landing on her back. she was perfectly fine, but she definitely didn't catch it

momo... well, momo had only ever "caught" the ball once when mina threw it to her literally four inches away from her mouth

momo can't catch the ball even if it's the size of a watermelon and very squishy (aka easy for her to bite and hold)

she chomps at the air excitedly and the ball usually lands way far away from her. it takes her a few seconds every time to realize that she didn't catch it, but she's just as happy running to wherever the ball landed to bring it back to mina so she can throw it again

the pups can play their version fetch for hours on end which can be exhausting for mina, but they're also content with just gnawing on it

#joon had a thought 🦖 #littlevampire!mina #littlewerewolf!sana #littlewerewolf!momo #twice agere #twice fanfic #twice fic #sfw #sfw interaction only #sfw agere

[ao3screenshotss]

if it's possible could you please rec your favourite bungou stray dogs fics??

OH MY GOD YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ABSOLUTELY I WILL

update now that i've finally finished compiling them: this was so fun to do but a nightmare to choose (there are too many good fics) - thank you so much anon for asking it was so nice to go through my bookmarks again!!! but these are only a few of some of my favourite bsd fics.

i've got 25 here (i'll need to put them underneath a read more it's so so long omg) but if you'd like anymore, my primary blog is the same as my ao3 username and i have a lot of bookmarks there!!! they're all wonderful and i'd recommend all of them. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

(side note: i tried to post this before the latest and last bsd episode came out and i hope i made it just in time)

And if I'm blinded, will my eyes become the planets? by Yui_Kuromori (5k) - not rated

- I need to leave for a few weeks.

He tells the president in a particularly sunny afternoon. There, with the sunlight filtering through the window, the man’s hair seems to glow golden, and the lines on his face are even more pronounced. Atsushi swallows nervously and does his best not to back off. He looks up, and meets Fukuzawa’s somber eyes and feels a bit of sweat trickle down his neck.

The president sighs and closes his eyes for a second. Runs his hands through his hair, and Atsushi already feels bad about all the problems he’s causing the man. He’s about to apologize, really, when Fukuzawa pronounces tiredly.

- I understand.

They leave to get to know themselves.

( the soft whimsical road trip AU no one asked for)

I am genuinely so in love with this fic you don’t even understand - i find it really quiet and comforting. DEFINITELY underrated - it’s one of the fics i’ll always recommend

TIP: read in the middle of the night before you go to bed!! i’ve read it so many times and this personally was my favourite time to read it

yokohama bay hotel by spirallings (9k) - teen

Ryuunosuke started his channel, originally, as a means to make his sister smile and laugh when they lived in that oppressive house. It grew far beyond that and allowed them to escape, and now it's his means of income: but he has always kept a tight lid on his privacy, separating his personal life from the persona he puts on YouTube and social media accounts.

While struggling to come up with ideas, he clicks on a video on his recommended feed and it leads him to the work of a reclusive musician under the penname Byakko Chain. All Ryuunosuke knows about him at first is his singing voice, his hands, and his guitar.

And those walls come tumbling down.

this fic i think is one i didn't expect to love as much as i did - i actually just reread it, but the comment i wrote before was that i didn't remember what happened in the fic, i just clearly remember how much i loved it - the first half was amazing but it's definitely the second half that ties it altogether

also i think the way the author writes makes it so easy to imagine - like,, the imagery isn't overdone but you can kinda see what it's like and it's so sweet (it actually reminds me of one of my favourite study with me's set in yokohama - also a rec!!)

TIP: id just say somewhere quiet where you can listen to music - i could easily read it during the day but i just prefer comforting fics late at night cause they make me feel like when i wake up i can actually live out what happens in the fic (obviously i can't but it's nice to dream)

An Awkward Encounter by SapphireSunstone (4k) - teen

Imagine you're trying to leave your secret boyfriend's place only to be met with your co-worker who is also trying to leave his secret boyfriend's place and in the middle of arguing you see your secret boyfriend's co-worker and you see a glimpse of his secret-boyfriend.

OR

Chuuya and Akutagawa's walks of shame seem to follow a similar path.

fluff and crack, what else could you ask for? side note: it also reminded me of a post i saw a while back by @hoshiumiumi (please look at their latest poe art it’s so pretty!!)

TIP: no tip, read whenever!!! might smile though so don’t read in front of your parents/friends if they’re the type of people who ask ‘oh what are you smiling at? are you texting someone?’and you don’t wanna tell them that you read fanfic

Into Your World by leedonghyucks (110k) - teen

A case gone wrong had caused Atsushi and Akutagawa to be transported to an unknown universe set 200 years into the future, where Abilities (now known as Quirks) were as rampant as ever. The renowned new Double Black have faced many fearsome enemies but can they survive the trials and tribulations of hero high school?

Spoiler alert: Barely.

a bsd and bnha crossover!! i actually remember a few of my screenshots from this - it’s a bit long compared to my other recs so far but very good

TIP: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE HOMEWORK YOU WILL NOT STOP READING THIS

Plate :( by forest_raccoon (4k) - teen

It's an accident, for once. He was actually following the Official Household Chore Schedule and doing the dishes while Chuuya was out getting groceries. But one of the plates was slipperier than he expected, and as he attempted to dry it, it fumbled just enough out of his grip to crack against the countertop, chipping a bit off the edge.

It isn’t one of Chuuya’s fancy plates. Dazai is fairly certain that Chuuya has no particular attachment to this dish at all, actually. It’s plain white and utilitarian, part of a larger set.

So Dazai can’t explain why he’s frozen in place, rooted to the floor by some welling emotion he can’t quite pinpoint.

(Alternatively: local brilliant strategist has a slight meltdown over small uncontrollable part of everyday life)

by @sensitiveheartless!! a wonderful artist and author - definitely recommend reading other fics of theirs. this one hurt me but it was so good - they also made a comic/drawing for this!!

Interest Check by featherx (12k) - teen

“I read your work in the school paper!”

“O-Oh?” Poe fixes his posture a little, and resists the urge to straighten his ribbon. He knew he should’ve tied it a little tighter than he usually does this morning. “Er… W-What did you think?” If there’s anything he takes pride in, it’s his writing; most people are turned off easily by the horror themes he likes to use so much, but on the occasion someone does appreciate them, it gives him a feeling not unlike butterflies in his stomach. If Ranpo, of all people, is the latter…

“I figured out who the murderer was in two paragraphs,” Ranpo says, holding up two fingers, like he really needs to drive the nail in deeper.

—Or, Poe writes a whole musical in an effort to impress Ranpo.

this one i recently read and fell in love with it was so adorable!!! they're both ridiculous and i love them for it <333

life's like an hourglass, glued to the table by ephemerality (2k) - teen

Outside, there are sirens.

"I called the police," the helpful cashier announces from the storage room.

very hilarious - imagining what is going on in this fic may or may not make you wheeze - it definitely made me wheeze

playing the hero by FallenNiji (118k) - teen

“How’s U.A.? Does it live up to the general public’s expectations?” Ranpo, walking with his hands crossed behind his head, wondered.

“I literally witnessed an attempted murder, discrimination, bullying and experienced a Villain attack in the first month here, Ranpo-senpai,” Kyouka deadpanned.

“Is that a yes?”

(or: izumi kyouka, reformed assassin turned detective, infiltrates u.a. and more or less willingly surrounds herself with well-known pro-heroes and other such law-abiding citizens. what could possibly go wrong?)

i will admit that i can't remember much about this fic apart from i love the character interactions as well as the characterisations and i'm always looking forward to reading the new chapter - i've also posted a lot of screenshots from this fic if yall want like a taste or something

I Was Screaming Your Name Through The Radio by ElectricSplatter (256k) - mature

“Four months from now will be the seven year anniversary of when you and Osamu Dazai released your hugely successful first and only album Double Black and its diamond single Corruption. After performing with Dazai earlier this year, are you planning anything special to celebrate?”

“Corruption is insanely overrated, and I would prefer to never hear Dazai’s voice for the rest of my fucking life.”

i don't think i can bring myself to go through the pain this fic put me in again but it's really really popular for a very good reason - you definitely have to read it at least once

O expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave this body of mine! by aptlydapper (20k) - teen

Apparently, Chuuya has a signature(s).

Apparently, removing that signature(s) renders Chuuya basically unrecognizable.

Apparently, this works on everyone.

Chuuya would have liked to know this before getting accidentally recruited.

this one is WONDERFUL - i love the story in general it's such a cool concept and it's such a cool ada chuuya au - please read it at least once

love at first sight: coffee shop edition by setosdarkness (2k) - teen

Dazai and Chuuya get stuck in the rain, and end up sharing the only available table at a busy coffee shop.

[or, plot twists in my meet-cute coffee shop AU? it’s more likely than you think]

literally anything by setosdarkness is good - they're a complete icon - one of the backbones of the bsd fandom. i won't spoil it but it was very good - also recommend all 951 (!!!!!) fics of theirs

S(he) Came In Through the Bathroom Window by PocketsizedDinosaur (2k) - teen

Atsushi deals with Akutagawa's unusual (and inconvenient) habit of not using the door.

i don't really remember what happens in this fic but i remember loving it very much and that it also hurt me very much - double hit but perfect

360 degrees by setosdarkness (11k) - teen

Chuuya gets cursed by an Ability that forces him to eternally live out his biggest regret. Unlike the other victims who end up killing themselves or hurting others, Chuuya goes into a coma.

For his biggest regret is—

[groundhog day AU with a twist, where Chuuya relives the day Dazai leaves the Port Mafia over and over and over and over—]

OH MY GOD I LOVED THIS SO SO MUCH I READ IT LIKE A YEAR AGO BUT IT WAS SO GOOD

The Next Day by psychodaog (10k) - general

Atsushi wakes up in filthy rags and dried blood. He remembers the cage so vividly and it feels real.

It looks like the place he used to call "home".

(Atsushi travels back in time AU)

a WONDERFUL atsushi travels back in time au - i need to read more of these!! if anyone has some recs please send them in!!!

Striped by AliceinHyruleBastion (8k) - teen

Atsushi found his soulmate. No big deal. Until he comes into work one day with soulmarks on his face and the office demands an explanation.

SSKK soulmate AU shenanigans with a dash of battle, sass, and angst on the side!

sskk soulmate au!! so so wonderful - i also loved part 2

pull the trigger tighter and watch our distances explode by niwakaame (oolongteas) (8k) - teen

The world looks like a big spider's web, colorful, and bright and full of light.

In which Nakajima Atsushi sees the strings of fate, and beyond that.

i forgot to bookmark this and looked for it for AGES it was absolutely amazing i loved it

You're All I ever Wanted by iheartryuu (2k) - teen

“Chuuya,” Dazai mumbles, nudging the side of his face into his partner's neck. The redhead doesn’t move, doesn’t talk. He doesn’t make a single sound. He just needs this moment to last. He doesn’t want to face what will happen when he lets go and is forced to look into Dazai’s face.

“Chuuya.” Dazai speaks with a gentle voice. “Break my chains.” Chuuya shakes his head. He rests his forehead against Dazai’s shoulder. The brunette sighs, taking a gulp. His next words almost come out as a desperate whisper. “Break my chains so I can hug you back.”

Chuuya feels his throat tighten. He didn’t expect his partner to say that. So he shakes his head once again. His voice fans against Daza’s ear, sounding smooth. “If I let you hug me back, I don’t think I’d ever be able to let go.”

— aka, what should've happened when they met again for the first time in four years.

i think this nearly made me cry - or actually did - it was so so good

The Weretiger's New Houseguest by xxSoliusxx (31k) - teen

After a misunderstanding and surveillance tape proof, Akutagawa is faced with the daunting threat of the Port Mafia. He finds himself wounded in the pouring rain, standing on Atsushi's doorstep.

i only remember some parts of this very clearly but i remember it was all wonderful!!!

Dazai Undercover by Bibliophile109 (6k) - teen

“I thought the new employee was recommended by the Special Abilities Department,” Kunikida says weakly.

The man waves his hand carelessly. “Yes, yes, Father knows someone there, it’s all very convenient. Say, would you happen to know when the lunch break is?”

-

Dazai puts a bit more effort into hiding his Mafia background from the ADA, and ends up pretending to be a spoiled rich kid.

ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS - I JUST REALISED I FORGOT TO SUBSCRIBE AND IT HAS NEW CHAPTERS IM GONNA READ IT THE SECOND I FINISH THIS LIST

to build a home by lonelydoctors (5k) - general

”You have got to stop looking so shocked every time I visit, Poe-kun,” Ranpo says with a grin.

“N–no, but…I thought–I guess I just–“ Poe takes a deep breath and starts again, “I thought the Agency is supposed to be on a work trip in Shinagawa today. How did you even get here by yourself?”

Ranpo straightens his posture and shrugs casually, “Why, I took the train of course, Poe-kun.”

“You what?”

this one was SO adorable - according to my bookmarks i wrote "my GOD they own MY ENTIRE HEART"

This Color Ain't It by justcallmedude (108k) - not rated

“President, I understand Tanizaki, but Kenji?” Kunikida looked about ready to snap his pen in half as he, along with most of the people in the room, stared at their head. “Kenji’s methods are anything but ideal for an undercover mission! Please reconsider!”

“It is true that Kenji’s way of handling cases is unusual,” Fukuzawa agreed. “However, it is because of his ability to talk to people that I feel comfortable assigning him as our undercover agent with Tanizaki.”

- - -

Kenji Miyazawa is the ADA's naive detective given his possibly most difficult task to date: infiltrate UA and find the student spy before the heroes become aware that there is a traitor amongst them.

earlier in this post i included a kyouka goes to ua au, this one's a kenji goes to ua au and i loved them both very much!! i love kenji's characterisation in this it's so cool

Kiss My Wounds by bloodyinspiring (62k) - teen

The mafioso inhaled deeply, chewing the inside of his lip as he formulated his thoughts together before speaking, and looked the detective in the eyes. Gin told him to go for it, and when push comes to shove, bribe the guy. But money might not fix this if he mortified himself for eternity to come when he uttered the words...

“Marry me.” ~

A lot can happen within the three months of summer... Some people get the dream job they wanted, some graduate from school, and maybe others take on a new hobby with all the excess downtime they received (or thrown in jail like Dazai).

In Atsushi's case, he didn't expect to be proposed into a fake marriage with the one and only: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

(Occasionally on hiatus due to university but ongoing!)

THIS WAS SO GOOD OH MY GOD I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY BUT IT'S DEFINITELY ONE OF MY FAVOURITES

pull out your pen and write down your memory by Seito (75k) - teen

Instantly three things occurred to Shirusu.

First, fuck, this was the world of Bungou Stray Dogs. Second, given the appearance of Dazai Osamu standing in front of her, she had landed some time relatively close to the Dark Era. And third, these words slipped out before she could stop them.

“You’re asking me out on a date?! But you don’t even like women?!” Shirusu blurted out.

And Dazai blinked back at her in surprise.

Ah fuck.

im a sucker for isekai sometimes and this is one of my favourite ones

ataraxis by lurochu (46k) - teen

For the first time in his life, Chuuya wished Dazai was there. With one touch, he could quiet Arahabaki and give Chuuya peace of mind, peace of mind that Chuuya desperately craved. But that bastard never was there when he needed him anyways.

Chuuya's slowly killing himself and Dazai's half to blame. (discontinued)

as you can see in the summary this one's unfortunately discontinued but i remember reading and loving this so much

All hail our lord and savior Chuuya Nakahara by BlowingYourMind

a series with just a lot of chuuya fics and they're all wonderful! my personal favourites are Let me help you - His dark eyes got a little lighter - Baby Executive - The worth of a subordinate in Chuuya Nakahara's eyes - Yokohama public High School- almost as crazy as their pep rallies - Learning experiences - Chuuya Nakahara's issue with Black Coffee - "You stole my wisdom?!", and Don't break the honeycomb. although these are just the ones that i've read recently or remember really well!! i think all of the fics in this series are worth reading

#live review: there’s a noise outside my window that sounds like a crossover between a horse and a chicken and it’s so loud im going to die #update: i just heard the most ‘i don’t laugh cause my laugh sounds stupid’ laugh from like a bird or something #it was the most HEHEHEHE in a scratchy voice thing #note - like one week after i started this: I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN STRUGGLING TO WORK OUT WHAT TO PUT ON THIS WITHOUT MAKING IT TOO LONG #im trying to get it out before (my) 12oclock so i can get it out before the new bsd episode (for me it comes out at 1am) #bsd fic recs #fic recs #replies #anonymous #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fics

[neon-lights-and-glitter]

Pumpkin Patch

Summary- Taking the girls to a pumpkin patch.

Word Count- 1.8k

A/N-Requested by my D anon. Ended up a lot longer then I expected but when do I ever write anything short. I also realized that it was supposed to be the first time taking them to a pumpkin patch but I was already over half way done when I did.

Paisley had been begging you and Jack to take her to the pumpkin patch, and Olive wanting to do anything her big sister wanted to do, was also begging you to take them, though you weren’t even sure if she knew what a pumpkin patch was, she was only 3, she couldn’t have remembered when you took her and Paisley the year before. You both promised you would take them as soon as you had time, and you kept your promise. 

About 3 weeks before Halloween you all finally had time to take them to the local pumpkin patch. Paisley unclipping her seat beat as soon Jack parked.

“Paise, wait one second.” Jack reminded her, laughing softly, Jack getting out and helping Olive out of her car seat, while you got out and opened the door for Paisley, holding her hand to help her out. Paisley pulling you gently towards the entrance, seeing all the games, pumpkins, small petting zoo, and hayrides. Jack was carrying Olive on his hip since she had just woken up, not quite matching her sister’s level of excitement yet. No matter how long the car ride was, Olive would fall asleep.

Once the 4 of you had all gotten inside, Olive had decided she wanted to walk, Jack put her down, holding her hand. Olive spotted the petting zoo, pointing over at it.

“Daddy, pet the animals?” Olive asked, looking up at Jack, Jack nodded.

“Of course, Liv.” Jack smiled at her before getting your and Paisleys attention.

“Want to go pet the animals first?” Jack asked and Paisley nodded excitedly, and you laughed softly at her reaction. 

“Let’s go then.” You smiled, Jack reaching out for your hand, and you intertwined your fingers, you two let Paisley and Olive led you over to the animals. Both of them wanting to pet all the animals they could. Once you all got to the animals you could feed, Paisley was a little hesitate at first, wanting you to hold the first piece of food with her, but after that she wanted to do it herself. Olive though, was still scared, wanting Jack to help her feed the animals.

Jack kneeled next to Olive, holding the piece of the food in his hand while Olive held on to his hand. Olive smiling once the animal took the food. 

“Mommy, I did it!” She said excitedly.

“I saw, good job.” You smiled at her, watching as Olive and Paisley fed a couple more animals, Olive eventually getting brave enough to try to feed a few animals on her own after seeing Paisley do it. Eventually the girls wanted to move on to something else. Paisley getting distracted by the games.

“Mommy, Daddy, can I have one of the stuffed animals?” Paisley asked, pointing to the stuffed animals behind the games as prizes.

“You can, but you have to play the game first, they are prizes. Do you want to play the game?” You asked Paisley and she nodded, grabbing Olive’s hand.

“Do you want to play too?” Paisley asked Olive.

“Yeah.” Olive nodded excitedly, Paisley and Olive walked hand in hand in front of you and Jack, who had his arm around your waist.

Once the 4 of you got to the games, you all took turns playing different games, you and Jack taking turns helping Olive and explaining the games to Paisley, helping her when she would ask. Paisley won a dog stuffed animal, and Olive won a small teddy bear. You won one stuffed animal, giving it Olive, while Jack won two, giving one to Paisley and one to you.

“Just like our first date.” Jack said as he handed you the stuffed animal, making you laugh softly.

“Except we’ve gotten a little better at the games.” You joked, making Jack laugh and kiss you softly. You let the girls play a couple more games, but no more prizes were won. You all decided to just walk around for a few minutes, both of the girls spotting a stand with giant lollipops, cotton candy, and caramel apples. 

“Daddy, can we have cotton candy please?” Olive asked, looking up at Jack who glanced over at you, and you nodded. 

“Sure, let’s go get some and you can share with Paise.” Jack said, and you all started to walk towards the stand.

“Can we get lollipops too?” Paisley asked you. 

“We can get them, but for later, okay?” You said, brushing some of her hair out of her face, she thought for a second but nodded. You took the girls to find a place to sit while Jack got them a bag of cotton candy to share and 2 lollipops for later. Jack joined you at the table, sitting next to you while Paisley sat across from you and Olive sat in your lap.

They both ate their cotton candy, only arguing once when Paisley grabbed the bag not noticing that Olive was also reaching for it, but they made up quickly when Paisley handed Olive a piece of the cotton candy and apologized. Olive would occasionally feed you or Jack a piece of the cotton candy as well, and even though neither of you really wanted any, you ate it anyways.

“We can go on the hayride once you are both done and then we can pick out pumpkins.” You told them both and they nodded.

“Can we get a baby goat?” Paisley asked.

“Yeah, I want a baby goat Daddy.” Olive added, agreeing with her sister

“What are you going to do with a goat?” Jack asked them.

“Feed them and pet them like earlier.” Paisley said, clearly her favorite animal from the petting zoo were the goats.

“I don’t think we should get a goat right now Paise, where would we even keep it?” Jack asked, curious of her answer. Paisley shrugged.

“We could keep it inside.” She suggested, Olive nodding in agreement, making both of you laugh softly.

“We aren’t getting a pet goat right now.” Jack told her and Paisley nodded but pouted.

“I’ll ask Uncle Urban, you ask Uncle Clay.” Paisley leaned over the table to whisper to Olive who giggled and nodded.

“They better not.” You whispered to Jack, making him laugh. You knew you and Jack had a problem saying no to your girls, but the 2 that really couldn’t say no to your girls were Urban and Clay.

“Where would you even get a goat?” Jack asked you, the girls now having their own conversation about how they were going to convince their uncles to buy them a pet goat. 

“Jack.” You warned. “We are not getting a pet goat, where would we put it? What would we do with it when were out of town, dog sitters are a thing, but I don’t think they have goat sitters.” Jack raised his hands in defense, laughing softly.

“Just a question.” He defended himself.

“Sure. As long as I don’t come home to a goat in our living room one day.” You teased.

“I’ll just put it in the backyard.” Jack teased, and you playfully rolled your eyes, you knew he wouldn’t get a pet goat without asking first.

Once the girls finished their cotton candy, they were begging to go on the hayride that you promised, picking up their stuffed animals after you and Jack wiped their hands clean.

You made your way over to the hayride, the four of you climbing on, Olive sitting in Jack’s lap, and Paisley sitting in-between you and Jack. As you rode the hayride that took you around the Pumpkin patch both girls pointed things out, mainly the goats as you rode by them, also seeing a couple people with dogs, pointing the dogs out to you two.

“If we can’t get a goat, can we get a dog?” Paisley asked, and while starting with asking to get a pet goat, made a dog seem a lot more reasonable, you still weren’t sure.

“We’ll see, Daddy and I would have to talk about it okay?” You told her and Paisley nodded, happy that the answer wasn’t a complete no like it was with the goat.

Once the hayride stopped near the pumpkin patch you all got off the ride, Jack carrying Olive off the ride, then helping you and Paisley. Jack put Olive down, holding her hand as you all walked over to the pumpkins.

You let the girls pick out their own pumpkins, Paisley picking hers out quickly, saying she wanted to carry it, handing you her stuffed animals before she picked up the pumpkin, carrying it around as Olive picked out her pumpkin. It didn’t take long until Paisley’s arms got tired, and Jack took the pumpkin from her, and she took back her stuffed animals back. 

“When can we carve them?”  Paisley asked as you waited for Olive to pick her pumpkin out.

“We can carve them tonight if you want to.” Jack suggested and Paisley nodded.

“Yeah! Can we do it when we get home?” Paisley asked.

“After Olive naps.” You told her and she nodded, running over to her sister to help her pick out her pumpkin. Olive was your pickier child, so you already knew it would take Olive longer to pick a pumpkin then Paisley. Olive finally picked her pumpkin, trying to pick it up but barely getting it off the ground.

“Want help Olive?” Jack asked her and she nodded, as Jack picked up her pumpkin. Olive thanked Jack and the 4 of you walked back to the hayride, you helped the girls on while Jack held their pumpkins, Olive sitting on your lap. The whole ride back the girls talked about what they were going to carve on their pumpkins, with your and Jacks help of course. 

You carried Olive back to the car, you could tell she was getting tired, it was close to her nap time. Once you got to the car, Jack put the pumpkins in the car before making sure Paisley didn’t need help getting in the car while you helped Olive, who was already half asleep in your arms.

It only took about 5 minutes into the drive home before both girls were completely asleep. Jack reached over and grabbed your hand gently, intertwining your fingers. He brought your hand up to kiss the back of it gently.

“I love you.” Jack said, smiling over at you softly when he was at a stop light.

“I love you too. There’s no one else I’d want to do any of this with.” You told him, looking over at him.

“No one.” Jack repeated, kissing your hand one more time as the light turned green and he continued to drive the rest of the way home.

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #dad jack

[changingplumbob]

My top 23 gameplay moments

Thanks to @anamoon63 for tagging me! You've probably seen my top 23 screenshots but as I was trying to narrow them all down I did feel like my favourite storyline moments were not the same as my favourite pictures. So I'm going to take this tag and tell you the top 23 gameplay events I've had this year. Not all have screenshots as some of them happened before I started writing down and capturing my gameplay.

23. I did actually enjoy writing Bella and Mortimer pulling away from each other as Mortimer began to prioritise his writing over his family.

22. Seeing in thought bubbles that Paris and Samir both had crushes on the sims I wanted them crushing on. Sweet success!

21. Back when my game correctly did university grades and three out of five of my university students earned their degrees with honors! Devin, Luna and Cassandra.

20. Adding in Dina and Nina Caliente. Sadly Mortimer died so they haven't gotten a lot of screentime yet BUT I think they look great and have plans to bring them back in in time, they still control the Goth fortune after all.

19. Getting Bob his dog Dale which allowed Bob to get fit and healthy. He's still heavy set but it's mostly muscle now.

18. When Reece got a pop up about his crush randomly showing up at football practice despite his actual crush Samir being on the football team...

17. When Deanna and Paris completely ruined my story plans by kissing during a shopping trip in a different rotation, and I had to do sneaky screenshots so you couldn't see them in the background. Then when I went back to play Deanna she still had the first kiss option so I could write things my way.

16. When I was able to edit settings so that Devin and Luna could have kids that would be genetically related to them both. I usually like to keep my gameplay semi realistic when it comes to having kids but I knew Devin would not get pregnant being an actress and wanted the chance of a kid that looked like her.

15. My sims commiting home invasion before it became EA official. See Devin walking into the Pancakes house like modern day Goldilocks. Taking a bath, cooking a white cake, and only half eating some food.

14. Joey's glow up from little kid to attractive young adult was a nice surprise. I'm so glad he rolled wanting kids because if I can't get a Devin lookalike, maybe I can get a Joey lookalike down the line. Note to self, put eyelashes on more of my male sims.

13. When this new blonde girl in high school kept looking miserably at Deanna during the lesson. And I had Deanna go cheer her up only to discover when looking through her traits that she was also a lesbian. Cheers Paris for spawning at just the right time.

12. Kelly rolling the evil trait after being a destructive toddler was hilarious. I never would have picked it by myself but now I revel in writing him being a jerk to others.

11. When I got Milton to waddle across the road after Bella went missing. And again when I got him to ditch Dina and Nina and run away to see Alexander.

10. Rahul repeatedly spawning outside the Goth house for no apparent reason. This of course led to a friendship and eventual romance with Cassandra. Stalking may pay off???

9. Just watching Kaori ski has honestly been so fun. I look forward to it when I play her household. For those that don't know Charlie used Mix & Mingle for a blind date and Kaori was the second woman she met from that.

8. INFANTS! Specifically playing with alien infants like Silas and Pollock who are even more adorable and hilarious than human infants.

7. Writing Bob and Eliza as being in love. Taking the opposite nature of their personalities and finding a way where they actually work well together. I always smile when they go to woohoo and Eliza also dumps her clothes on the floor like Bob rather than in the basket.

6. When Reece got a crush on Samir after literally saying one thing to him, guess they'd been bonding off screen. In the York rotation Samir had come over and yelled at Reece, and my brain went he's probably just a closeted gay. Then I checked and he actually was! For storyline purposes though I have him as never being in denial of that.

5. Savannah and Mercedes being mini clones of Rahul. I love it so much. I also have really liked playing this latest storyline where they are not pleased at the idea of a sibling, they can be two little terrors.

4. Adam accepting the birth of both of his kids despite not wanting children. I didn't know if I could do enough to get him there but each time he was able to.

3. Keira getting sick during her Halloween party date and Marta looking after her. Not planned but ended up pretty sweet.

2. James proposing to Alexander when he was a townie, despite autonomous proposals being turned off and the fact that he had a living wife at that point. You rebel against the code James!

1. When Adam ignored autonomous proposals being turned off, and showed up in the middle of Suzanna's shift at the science lab to propose. They were living together by this point and clearly he got sick of me ignoring his wants while I played him at home.

So @azuhrasims @marcishaun @sharona-sims and anyone really if you have some top gameplay events from this year, doesn't have to be a whole 23, want to share? Also @julesbbsea17 I KNOW you must have had some kind of crazy memorable gameplay events in your game this year... *flashes back to that random unknown thing bobbing in the water beside your lot in Sulani that we still don't have the identity of*

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #Top 23 #simblr #Dag dag or tag tag

[pippin-pippout]

My Demon Finale + Final Thoughts

Ok My Demon was cute. I really appreciated that the last episode was mostly all wrapping things up. We got resolution on every character, each completed their arc or did what was natural for them.

We had just the right amount of angst for this story - the villains were scary, but not enough to turn this into more of a thriller than a romance, or to detract too much from the ultimately happy ending. Sure they were nice and twisted and messed up, following the well formulated pattern. I don't need anything more.

And I really did love the 'good guy' characters in this show - I never felt like any side was getting too much attention at the cost of another or of the story.

For like the first half of this show I thought her not-cousin (you know the smart one/second male lead) was gonna turn out to be evil. Like I was convinced that psycho-dad was just a distraction. I'm really happy I was wrong. Also thrilled to see him become absolute besties with Gu-won. In fact I am more thrilled than Gu-won is.

Similarly happy for sword-dance girl, who kept saying she was leaving to the point I was like 'then why haven't you?' and then when she's about to, she finds a reason (a real reason) to stay. I feel like she and psycho-dad's wife will do a lot of good for children in the future.

Seeing the son before his dad could completely destroy him was a somewhat formulaic choice, but it's a formula for a reason, and I did really feel for him. Even before that, I had hoped he would survive. everything and be able to heal. The writing/acting choices for his character were good in that, in most of his interactions with Do Do-He, I felt like something non-villainous was behind the curtain - even before the abuse was revealed. I couldn't tell if he liked her or was trying to warn her or was looking for her to save him, but I appreciated that the reveal that he wasn't the villain actually had some foundation. I'm glad he was posthumously cleared and that his mom will hopefully learn from this shit to help others.

Eunni with her two sons continue to be ridiculous, but harmless as always. A nice bow-tie comedic moment. Sure she was one of the 'bad guys' but they're always there, and considering the rest of her family, she honestly was the most normal. And I think the narrative did try to show that she was at least a good mom.

Ms. Shin and the past lives/aka Fuck You guy! They are so weird for each other and I love that for them. Not me though. Did not need more of their makeouts. I freaking loved Ms. Shin throughout everything though. Such a good balance of no-nonsense with compassion.

Our comedic relief third wheels - the PR trio and the dogs/parsnips - both fun. The ex-mob brows definitely won for me (they did have a dog). Every time Gu-won wouldn't acknowledge them my heart broke a little. Glad the writers understood that and gave us their happy ending.

I liked this portrayal of God. Very 'I don't know what the fuck is going on either but good luck' with a side of compassion rather than just dropping riddles and life lessons (those were learned along the way anyway). Felt more realistic.

And for the main couple, I'm happy we got to see their version of a silly fight, because couples fight, and that makes me believe their happy ending more (also so thankful to have a show with a demon main character have his love interest play hymns and prayers when they're arguing).

I really thought when Gu-won came back, he'd be human, and it'd be all 'perfect.' But I kind of love that he's a demon and the little-shitness of his character as a demon (yet is afraid of pissing off his wife who puts stickers on his demon manual). Also good for Do Do-hee having a demon on speed dial is useful af.

Anyway, they established that she'd continue to age and eventually die, and that it was ok because impermanence is what makes this, and every moment, so not insignificant. I felt like he would happily accompany her beyond when the time comes, but for the time being they're able to live knowing every second matters, the good and the bad, and be happy to have them.

A sweet show with a sweet ending; just what I needed tonight.

#my demon #song kang #kim yoo jung #jeong guwon #do do hee

[amor-immortalem]

Touch

OMweek2023 Day 2: Markings

Pairing: Mammon x gn!MC

Genre: Angst

Content warnings: toxic!MC, misuse of the pact, overstepping boundaries for MC to get what they want. (It back fires on them)

A/N: As I was writing this I kept thinking: wow, MC’s a fucking asshole… IDK where their characterization came from, man. Also there’s been one thought living rent free in my head for the past week: What if Mammon’s markings in his demon form were actually very painful scars from where those gold pieces he wore as an angel were? And lastly, I wanted to try my hand at writing for GN!MC for once…

“You wanna what?” Mammon gawks at the human’s boldness. He can’t say anyone’s ever made such a request of him before.

“I wanna touch your markings,” They’re not shy about repeating their request. “Is that a problem?”

“Well... no but- Why am I even entertaining this? The answer’s ‘No.’”

“Why?” The human tilts their head to the side like a curious puppy, “Are they sensitive?”

“No! I just don’t want ya touchin’ ‘em.” A blush heats up the demon’s cheeks.

“Please?” MC asks again, giving the demon puppy-dog eyes.

“No!” Mammon reasserts again. “You’re not touching my markings. End of discussion.”

The Avatar of Greed removes himself from the room before the thought of enforcing their pact with him to get what they want crosses their mind.

・・・〆・・・

A week later and Mammon is doing his best to avoid being alone with MC as much as possible. He doesn’t want to say he can’t trust they won’t try something, but he also doesn’t want to give them the opportunity to try either. But he misses that stupid human. What should he do? He’s already laid the boundary out. They wouldn’t be that shitty to actually cross it, would they?

There’s a knock at his bedroom door. At best it’s one of his brothers wanting something from him. At worst, it’s MC. Against his better judgment, the white-haired demon opens the door.

“Have you been avoiding me?” It’s the human, barging their way into his room and taking a seat on one of his couches.

“Not even a hello, how ya doin’?” Mammon quirks a brow at them, “And no if I were avoidin’ ya, I wouldn’t be hanging out with ya at school. I’m a busy demon. I can’t hang out with you 24/7.”

“Except before I asked to touch your markings, you were doing pretty much just that.” They chuckle, “You’re so full of shit. Just say you’re avoiding me and be done with it.”

“I’m really not but okay, whatever.”

“Good. See, things are much easier if we just do them my way. Now, come on, sit down. We’ll watch a movie together.” They pat the spot on the couch beside them and Mammon can feel the pact forcing his feet to comply with the order. He just hopes the human hasn’t realized what they were doing.

When he sits, they snuggle into his side, head resting against his chest as they grab the remote and start surfing through movies to watch. Once they settle on one, they click play and get even more comfortable.

・・・〆・・・

They’re half-way through the movie and Mammon has no interest in it whatsoever. He scrolls through his phone not paying attention to what MC is doing- actually he thinks they might’ve actually fallen asleep on him. They’ve been so still for the past twenty minutes.

“Hey, Mammon...” Their voice is so soft he would have missed it over the dialogue in the movie if he didn’t have a heightened sense of hearing.

“Hmm?”

“Hold still for me real quick.”

And the demon freezes as they crawl into his lap. He can’t move even if he wanted to- and he really does want to move.

“What’re you doin? Get offa me!”

“C’mon, Mammon just let me touch them. It’ll only be a quick second and then I’ll never ask again.”

“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?” He can’t believe they’re still fixated on the idea of touching his markings.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal for you. Give me one good reason why I can’t touch them, that isn’t just because you don’t want me to.”

“Because... because I just don’t, and you should respect that!”

It’s quiet between them. MC looks like they weren’t pleased with his answer.

“Transform.” Another order that the Avatar of Greed can’t keep himself from following. Resigned to his fate, Mammon goes quiet and just lets this human he thought to be a friend have their way.

Soft finger tips on one hand trace the white lines that decorate his torso while the other hand tilts his chin up so they can have better access to the marking on his throat. The only thing Mammon can think about is how everywhere the human’s fingers trace burns as badly as the day these marks first appeared as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s reminded of the pain he felt when his brothers had to cut the celestial gold out of his skin after it had fused into him during the fall from the celestial realm.

“Mammon?” MC’s voice sounds echo-y and distant, as if they weren’t sitting not more than five inches from his face. “Mammon.” Their voice is clearer now as their hands cup his face. “Hey, are you okay?”

And it’s that question that sets him off. He pushes the human off of him as soon as he has control of his body again as he glares at them.

“Get out,” His voice comes out in a twisted snarl. “Get out and don’t come back.”

“Wait- I’m sorry- I didn’t think it would be painfu-”

“I said out! Now!” Mammon’s wings flap with enough force to topple the couch they had just been sitting on as well as knock over various valuables that had been sitting on shelves with the resulting gust of wind.

MC is quick on their feet and rushing out of the room.

・・・〆・・・

For the next three months, Mammon and MC hardly see each other. He refuses to be anywhere near them despite their endless attempts to approach him and Mammon’s perfectly happy this way. He’ll never see them in the same light as he did before this. Before, he’d always seen them as an exception to most humans but now, all he ever considers them as is someone willing to cross whatever line necessary to reach their end goal.

So, when he enters his room and sees them sitting on his couch once again, the demon’s immediately on the defensive. He keeps his distance, standing at the door as he watches them.

“Thought I told ya not to come back?”

At the sound of his voice, their eyes meet his. They look genuinely sad but Mammon can’t bring himself to believe that they’re not just putting on an act.

“I’m sorry... What I did was wrong...” They start, propping their chin up with the back of their hand. “Can I explain-”

“Ya don’t look very sorry.” Mammon interrupts quickly, “If you’re here to beg for my forgiveness, save your breath. What you did was way outta line. You broke my trust and I’ll never forgive you for that.”

MC only frowns as they readjust on the couch. “Will you hear me out? At least listen to what I have to say?”

“No, I don’t care about the why ‘n the how of it. Now scram.” Mammon doesn’t want to hear an explanation. He doesn’t even want to look at their traitorous face. “I told you I didn’t want you touching my markings and that was because they ain’t just markings but incredibly painful scars that remind me of what I lost and what I’ve been through every time I see them. ‘N when you touched them, it felt like you were setting my skin on fire. Now, if you’re done tryin’ to manipulate me into forgiving ya, get out. Our friendship is over.”

“Come on, please just five minutes and then if you really want to call our friendship quits then I’ll respect that.”

“No, I already told ya I ain’t interested in any explanation you could give me. It won’t fix what happened.”

“Not even if I had had good intentions behind it?”

“Ain’t no good intentions that include violating somebody’s boundaries.”

“I just wanted to take our relationship to the next level!” There’s a look Mammon can’t quite place in the human’s eyes. It almost seems like desperation. “I had learned in one of my classes at RAD that sometimes a demon’s markings act like an erogenous zone a-and I figured since you’re clearly in love with me but don’t know how to admit it that me touching your markings might signal that I was interested in you in a way that was more than friends and-“

“Enough,” he’s done listening to this. “If you were wantin’ me to be your boyfriend, ya shoulda just come out and said it. What you did ruined any shot you ever had. Now, for the last time. Get. Out.”

MC frowns and dejectedly walks out of the room as the demon clicks his tongue in annoyance once they’re gone. To think he ever had feelings for a human like that... but that’s just how it goes he supposes.

・・・〆・・・

End

#omweek2023 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date? #mammon angst #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me gn!mc #om! gn!mc

[bomberqueen17]

alive

i'm back in buffalo and at work.

i don't remember what i updated here vs. not. i was helping M-L move; took Saturday off (babysat the CSA stand at the farm from 10-1, but that hardly counts as working since I could sit down. i got a pair of BIL's shorts with a split seam mended, which was nice; hadn't sewn anything in over a week otherwise.)

cut for meandering; I can't remember this week so I'm trying to write down what actually happened just so I can have an approximate accounting of it. I'm also sort of venting so this is not the most like. Dry factual recounting of events. But it's why I'm so tired and short-fused this morning, and why I'm in so much pain.

Oh yeah. I was trying to recount to Dude what had been going on and I just couldn't remember the chronology but it's that I went Monday night to buy the rug with M-L, went to the new house with her and Roommate was there and we chatted, had dinner on the patio of the bar next to her apartment, then went back to the farm; Wednesday I borrowed the farm minivan and I now genuinely don't remember whether we filled it or not. Did we take over a load of stuff?? What did we do Wednesday?? I don't remember. Oh yessss thanks past me for writing it down-- we went and collected a futon a friend was giving away, and I insisted on throwing several large awkward things into the van from her apartment as well, and then we brought that over to the house, and for dinner we had cold sandwiches and milkshakes from the local convenience store/ice cream shop. And then she was busy Thursday and I was busy Friday (or was I?? did I go pack things Friday?? I genuinely don't remember that either) and I didn't go over again until Sunday, when I brought the minivan over in the morning and we spent all fucking morning packing things and loading it-- ok I spent the morning loading it, M-L was feeling quite poorly and mostly lay around but I kept the momentum going and once I'd hauled everything down the stairs she did help me put it into the minivan, and we hauled a huge load of stuff over to the house and unloaded it.

(Wait no I *did* go over Friday. I made dinner at the farm, left half of it on the stove for BIL and his stepdad who were doing construction work, and took the rest with me and we ate in M-L's apartment, sitting on her bed because that's the only place to sit. I wound up frying the tortillas to be nachos because they were shredding so badly, they must've banged around Farmsister's fridge a while. I think we just packed boxes though, didn't take anything out of the house. Yes, I had to consult my text messages to find that out.)

Anyway, Sunday we were halfway through unloading the minivan, when M-L noticed that her second-storey porch had been ransacked. The metal garbage can had been thrown down the stairs. the lid was lying upstairs. The birdfeeder was gone, except for a few metal clips scattered around. The chairs had been dragged around, and the tops pulled off the little tiki lamps on the end table. And the baby gate that was affixed to prevent the dog wandering down the stairs had been torn out and thrown down the stairs.

A bear. A black bear had come up on her porch and had stolen all of the bird feed. We never found the feeder, or the emptied bag, or a single black oil sunflower seed. Notably this is the first time since they hung the birdfeeder that the roommate, who has a Great Pyrenees, was not present overnight; she went to her family's farm in PA for the weekend to help with planting.

As I was helping M-L investigate this, I discovered something they'd already known, which is that the third step down on that flight of stairs is, for no reason, three inches narrower than the rest of the steps, and so if you walk down the stairs without looking, your foot will skid out and you will fall down the stairs. So I did that, though I caught myself after a couple of steps (as I'd been holding the handrail, I am normally quite a cautious stair-climber).

So, I fucked up my shoulder and the big toe of the other foot, and that was awesome. I took a bunch of Advil and walked it off, and that cemented our decision not to try to go back to the apartment and put anything else into the minivan, because we didn't have time before the big family Sunday dinner that's started to be tradition.

And then I found that night that it's not really possible for me to sleep with this shoulder injured, as my back wants me to be a side sleeper, my left hip cannot be lain upon, and now it's my right shoulder that also cannot be lain upon. So I couldn't sleep on my back, my right side, my left side, or my front (which fucks up my back something awful).

But time marches on. I dragged myself up Monday morning and went to M-L's house again. It took forever to load the minivan as usual, because half of what we were doing was dragging packed boxes out of the apartment to make room for ourselves to work, and then the other half we were still finding things to put into boxes. (M-L had hoped to get more of that packing process done; among the things we removed was all the shit she stored in the hallway, so there's room to stage boxes outside of the apartment, but she had not yet availed herself of that. Fortunately she was overall a bit perkier on Monday, because I was not capable of dragging her ass at that point and could not have kept momentum up on my own. Probably helps that I broke down weeping in her kitchen shortly after I arrived, because I was attempting to mildly complain that all the things I'd managed to make myself ask for help getting done at the farm had been promised nicely enough but absolutely nothing had gotten done as promised and so I'd just gone through an entire cycle of visiting without achieving any of my own goals, as all of them had required help and none of my help is willing to prioritize me. One of the tasks, I have been asking consistently for help with since March and I'm starting to think I'm not going to get help, but I can't think how else to get what I need. Maybe if I spend a few hours moving several tons of lumber one board at a time, then I'll only need help from one person with a tractor instead of three people, and I'll be able to get that?? I don't know; I can't drive the tractor so it's still not like I could do it without help. It's a thing that only I care about, so it's absolutely not going to get done unless I do it, but also I can't do it alone, so I was in rather a bit of despair and also the advil hadn't kicked in so I was not able to achieve the Amusing Kvetching effect I was going for and wound up sobbing instead.)

Part of the annoying thing was that I'd packed enough boxes to stack floor to ceiling in her spare room way back in early May for her landlord to come repair something {I'd also entirely cleaned her kitchen, and on Friday that was the first thing I did again, as she'd clearly loaded the dishwasher one time subsequently and run it and then stacked every dish after that in the sink so that it was again in the condition it had been in May last time I did this, why are you like this}, and then she'd thrown so much junk in front of them that we couldn't get those boxes out. So on Monday finally we broke through the debris there and were able to reach those boxes, which went a long way toward filling the minivan. We also threw a couple of delicate things and an awkwardly-shaped baker's rack into my Subaru, and by 11:30 we were ready to go over to the house.

And my shoulder was just about done. It can bear weight, but only in a few positions. I'm quite certain I know what's wrong, it's a mild sprain which I've had happen before, and that means the ligaments are a bit stretched, which means the joint will slide into an improper position and then normal amounts of strain are quite painful. It's annoying, and takes forever to heal, but it is not any of the far worse things that can go wrong with a shoulder so I won't complain that much. It just sucks.

I texted Farmsister, who'd said she could spare a few minutes to carry boxes. She doesn't have the time to come stand in M-L's living room and coax her into functionality, nor does she really have the personality for it, but straightforward clear-cut work like this? Easy as pie. So Farmsister showed up, about half an hour after we got to the new house (we occupied ourselves unloading a few light things and unpacking boxes; it was imperative, we felt, that we not have boxes littering the kitchen, as roommate already lives there and is gonna have to be able to eat).

It took her ten minutes to help M-L unload the minivan. Ten minutes flat, and then they moved several awkward bits of furniture up the stairs to the bedrooms with very little difficulty.

So we unpacked a bunch of stuff, and then Farmsister took her minivan back and left M-L her Jeep, and all was right with the world, and the best part is that Farmsister agreed to come over on Friday, when M-L is getting a different friend to help her load furniture into a Uhaul; FS doesn't have time to help load, but she can meet them at the house and do what she'd just done, which was be brains and muscle to get awkwardly-shaped heavy things into the house and into their proper resting places. So that is scheduled and I feel better, because the friend M-L is having help her load the furniture is a nice enough guy but I don't know how he is now, I only remember him being our older sister's friend when they were all teenagers and he was just sort of a goofball then. Presumably he's more sensible now but I haven't seen him since like 1993 so I think I can be forgiven for not fully believing that he's really a competent adult, LOL.

Thee very last thing that happened is that I then used the bathroom for the first time, and fucking snapped a plastic bit of plumbing attached to the toilet handle when I went to flush. Come on!!!!! Argh.

So we went to the nearest shopping plaza and M-L bought me a Chipotle burrito, which was all I wanted in the world, and then she girded her loins and went to the hardware store to learn about toilet repair, and I got onto the highway and drove home.

I was so sleepy, but I listened to that Beyonce live at Coachella thing, which was at least high-energy, and that got me there eventually.

I arrived to a pile of boxes of all the retail therapy I did last week. Also a delighted cat and a happy Dude, who'd set out a small wheel of Brie to get up to temp, and had a baguette and some dried fruits and nuts and things for dinner, and had made margaritas that were chilling, and in general had prepared for my arrival. That bit was nice at least.

The retail therapy was a bit disappointing. I got new glasses, which was very exciting, but of course now I have to adjust to the updated prescription, which is work. I bought myself several new pairs of pants, accidentally I thought one size too big, but they fit, which is, well. It ought to be neutral and I ought to be glad I accidentally bought the right size, but really I'm not pleased that I'm such a large clothing size now. Fine fine fine whatever. Except I also indulged and bought myself a hoodie, and when I opened the package, it was the first thing I saw-- a plastic bag labeled with the label for the hoodie, but very clearly containing a man's brimmed hat instead, which is an understandable but frankly asinine warehouse mistake.

Also got myself bras that are in fact the correct size (though putting them on is agony with this fucking shoulder), but the fit... well, they make my boobs point 45 degrees outward from center, which is just a bizarre look. I don't know why bras that size do that, except that the cups are likely designed to be set farther apart. I like my bust to sort of point forwards-ish, so as not to impede the free movement of my arms any more than they have to, so having them thus directed so weirdly and artificially outwards is pretty inconvenient. But, they fit, so I'll keep them, because beggars can't be choosers and at a 40K US (by their sizing calculator) I am absolutely a beggar in this scenario.

The silver lining is that Cashmerette has finally released a bra pattern. The company founder is almost exactly my dimensions-- an inch shorter, a size smaller overall, but very similar proportions-- so their patterns are literally made for my body type like, expressly, and it's stunning to realize how many people are shaped exactly like I am, or close to-- enough to make that an extremely reasonable average point to start from! though she isn't the fit model for their patterns nowadays, and grades between sizes for herself when she makes them, but like-- yeah! There's an entire collection of us who are all within a few inches of that exact size and shape. It turns out that's a very normal and average way to be. And it's a way that literally no other clothing or pattern manufacturer even seems to realize it's possible to be, even as an outlier, so it's downright revolutionary to encounter that.

The extra nice thing is that the bra pattern is not expressly for the subscribers of the club but is free for the tier of membership I'm at, which is super exciting for me.

The bad thing is that it's for an underwire, and since I haven't found an underwire bra that wasn't constant active agonizing torture in over a decade (going for two, now), I'm extremely skeptical about this. I just don't wear them, because they don't work. I cannot believe that this pattern claims it can easily make such a thing work for me. Even ones that seem to fit me well enough are agony after about twelve minutes. I am just not in any kind of mental place where I can believe this will work out. But in a moment I'll go take a look at that pattern, and see.

Not that I have the fucking time to sew shit, but. We'll see.

#about the author #life updates #farm life #moving is hell #yeah everything hurts and i'm dying

[runn0ft]

oh those ARE fun questions! 28, 38, and 18 (I will let you pick which behind the scenes director's cut you wanna give)

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

Oh, how you flatter me with this one.

So, because Sad Old Men is Meyer reminiscing about the ups and downs in his relationship with Charlie, I knew I had to include the ride somehow. I think that many of the events of Meyer’s life after 1929 were a direct result of his marriage and subsequently ruining Anna’s life. I don’t even mean this in like “the woman foils my otp” fandom sense. I mean this in that Charlie was the only one who had the right idea in recognizing that men in their line of business could not have it all. They were not meant to be family men, and this was something I imagine he tried to impart to Meyer a lot before his wedding. Prior to this scene, Meyer remembers his wedding reception. How solemn Charlie was, the heated moment they share just before someone inevitably comes looking for the groom, and only a mere handful of months later the love of his life is almost ripped away from him. Meyer has to grapple with so many little agonies around the ride. Like, he literally said it was the worst day of his life. He can’t send out the dogs (yet), he can’t go to the hospital, and he can’t blow up his new marriage (although in fic canon he totally does because even fucked up love conquers all). I originally wrote this as Meyer playing care taker and unsuccessfully trying to split his time between tending to Charlie and his new home life but ultimately, I figured the most realistic way to portray the ride was after Charlie’s release and how Meyer pulls the strings to exact his revenge, how it actually warrants him getting his hands dirty, and how he deals with his guilt around it.

Meyer wanted his pound of flesh. The thought of retribution burrowed itself under his skin like a parasite leaving a new kind of hunger in its wake. One that wasn’t satiated until the men responsible were brought to him on their knees.

He made sure they were afraid in their final moments. Pissing themselves and crying out for their mothers.

When it was done, Charlie’s wounds were pink and freshly healed under Meyer’s lips. He felt Charlie’s jaw clench at the contact and he made to pull away, but Meyer kept him still. He squeezed Charlie's shoulder with one hand, fingers dipping beneath the collar of his shirt, the other spread open against the good side of his face. Meyer didn’t say he was sorry—for Anna, for not coming to him when he wanted, so instead he pressed his mouth fervently to Charlie’s marred eye and cheek. It wasn’t until Charlie inclined his head to kiss him that Meyer understood there was never anything to forgive.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Honestly, I think it’s Charlie. I love rolling his voice around in my head and trying to translate it effectively into writing. He’s also just, such a presence. He’s truly larger than life and he knows it.

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

God, where do I start. A couple of things.

First, a fic author I really admire once admitted to writing their magnum opus on their phone, so I was like, huh, okay I’m going to give that a go and then I just. Never stopped. I write all my fic on my phone. Not on a laptop. Not in Word. It all lives on my phone, a fact that absolutely horrifies my friends, but honestly it’s great because if I do have that single brilliant half-lucid sentence that comes to me at 4am, I can literally open the doc, plug it in, and roll over and go back to sleep.

Second, it has to be guaranteed that I will be completely alone for an extended amount of time in order to write. I’m not talking for like, an afternoon (although I have had to force myself to do this out of necessity), I mean days. Ideally a week. I need the worms to completely consume me so I can be totally and unabashedly insane and ride the wave. This is very unfortunate and inconvenient when it comes to any kind of productivity, but now I understand why writers go on retreats.

Weird Questions for Writers

#weird writer asks #sorry i really went off here but you chose such great questions i couldn't help myself #mine #boardwalk empire fic #soulmates in crime #meyer lansky #charlie luciano #boardwalk empire

[1-deadgirlwalking-1]

4/7/2024

okay okay today is a good day. very good day. for the last two days i’ve been sleeping until 2-3pm and then staying bed all day, but today my dad woke me up at like 9:30am and by 10am i was actually up. we went to home depot and got screws for this car part my dad is fixing and wood for a ramp to connect the chicken run and the coop. i went with him to see if they had the foam i need for my project (fursuit partial :D) and they did but in the wrong thickness, i need half inch and maybe 1 inch for the details if it’s not too expensive. but they only had like. 5 inch or something. it was really thick and also dirty cause people kept putting their foot on it and pressing down to see how dense it was, LOL.

after that i got some chocolate pretzels and an energy drink. “chocolate pretzels” looks like it’s spelt SO wrong but it’s not… anyway then we went home and i went inside, i started watching rise and then when i got to insane in the mama train i was texting my friend and started unprompted infodumping to them about my rise of the tmnt AU. lol. i sent like 5 paragraphs that all almost hit the text limit. and then they said i was out infodumping donnie and called me autistic. (not a malicious or “haha ur weird” way, it’s cause i’m actually autistic and acting autisticly.)

i decided after i finished typing up my last giant paragraph i would copy and paste all of that into a doc and organize it so i can show my uncle, after we finish the show of course. basically like an outline with all of the events and plot of my AU. i was working on that when my mom came into the kitchen with some scraps and asked me to take it to the chickens, then do the dishes when i got back. which she’s been asking me to do for 2 days now and which i just finished doing 2 seconds before writing this paragraph. i’m very sorry mama, i kept genuinely forgetting and i feel bad.

after i gave papa the scraps i was checking out the coop, yesterday he installed a super fancy door on the chicken coop that opens and closes automatically at a set time, it even opens back up if it senses a chicken under it so they can’t get hurt. we tested it out with some sticks. anyway earlier he finished the ramp that goes up to it and started adding chicken wire windows so there’s more fresh air coming into the coop. he also added a piece of wood that will act as a curtain so like when it’s nice and daytime you can prop the wood up and the windows are open, then when it’s cold or night time you can put the wood down and it hangs in front of the windows, keeping all the cold air and predators out.

i took the puppy for a walk because neither of us liked having her just tied up to the bench outside the greenhouse/coop on a short leash. papa said he’d like to make a little wire run for her between the trees, while she’s still a baby and can’t run off on her own. once she’s older she won’t need to be leashed up but as a baby she keeps chasing the chicks and her and my sister’s dogs haven’t warmed up to each other i think so they might have issues if they try to take them out. idk. she just can’t go off on her own as a baby. but it’s sad to have her on a lil leash. also while i was walking her i had shorts on which is a horrible mistake to make when walking the dog because she kept jumping on me and trying to bite my legs off. it doesn’t hurt so bad when there’s fabric between teeth and my skin but when there isn’t it is very painful.

also apparently papa’s bee are swarming which means they’re just up and leaving. he said he had split them earlier, (when you simulate a swarm, and make them think they already did it, so they don’t fly off into some random place and make a new hive.) and he thought he did it right but they’re swarming anyway. he’s set up new hives but they seem to not like them i guess, and he also has a few traps in the trees and hopefully the bees will swarm into those so that he can just move them back to where the regular hives are and they’ll think nothing of it.

also my mom wants to know whether or not when we got on our trip later this year if i wanna go to the zoo with my sister and nephew or a bus tour with my other sister and mother, and i’m not sure yet. i’m still deciding.

i’ve totally been slacking on my kana which make’s me think i’m going to be horrible at keeping up with Anki, (doing the moeway 30 day method) i’m probably gonna have to adjust this method for myself a bit because it requires actual discipline / commitment, like missing a single day sets back your progress a ton and makes it significantly more difficult to get back on track, and i don’t have that at the moment. i’ve also got most of my schoolwork caught up but haven’t studied at all. i only have one computer science lesson left to do. i totally bombed my computer science test and got 56% on it, which set my grade back from about a 91% to a 79%. a single test should not affect my grade that heavily, like seriously wtf. how did i got from an A to a C over ONE assignment.

anyway… that’s my day so far. will update if anything else happens

nothing else happened that’s my day. goodbye!

#blog #what tags should i even use

[six-of-ravens]

had a dream that the strip mall near my apartment was actually infinitely interesting, or rather there was one infinitely interesting place that was at several points throughout time:

a combo bowling alley and mini golf place, entirely indoors with that horrible thin blue corporate carpet and very 80s primary-colours-and-triangles decor, run by a kindly elderly couple who also sold the best hot dogs around

a record shop called Vinyl that also sold the occasional manga, with shelves pretty much slapped right on top of the old minigolf course

a second version of that by local Gen Z/Alpha scene kid revivalists that sold almost exclusively early 2000s manga, art books, and raver clothing (I vividly recall walking in there and thinking simultaneously the kids are alright and I'm going to destroy my budget this month)

an abandoned building left perfectly intact with the door wide open so I could mourn the loss

Anyway im 99% certain that this dream is caused by the dismay of walking to the post office last week and realizing the funky Korean corndog place I always meant to check out had closed without me ever. actually going in there. Other dream things:

Elon Musk lived in the building next door to mine and everyone hated him and his dog tried to bite me (irl, I cannot see that dude ever having a pet so that's an amusing detail

Another woman walking by with her dog gave him an absolute dressing-down which I cannot remember the details of but must have been hilarious

In the way of dreams, everything was exactly the same except the block I lived in was in the rich neighborhood I drive through on the way to work, with it's gorgeous trees and river park.

I kept half waking up and going 'man this strip mall used to be GOOD I'm so sad that it's gotten so boring!' even though the only thing that used to be here that's not anymore that I truly miss is the grocery store. other than that the rotation has been pretty unremarkable (except for the corndogs and prior to that the donair shop, both of which I never managed to try). every time I was sad to remember that there was no magical minigolf/bowling/hot dog/record/manga/early 2000s nostalgia store.

I write a lot of weird semi-believable city locations into urban fantasy and it's entirely because ever since I moved away to college I've dreamed this bizarre and much cooler alternate universe* in extreme detail and it's just SO COOL I need to put those apartments/neighborhoods/whatever to use

*the exception being the past while when I was a) extremely worried about moms health and b) extremely worried about my own finances, which made me consistently dream that I had to move back in with my parents and also we were living in incredibly shitty basements that my richest uncle tried to make us feel grateful for and I swear I will always have a lingering resentment towards that guy because of these dreams and I know that's unfair lmao.

#it was a weird dream but not as weird as the time i dreamed that a friend's dad lived in an apartment behind the sex shop? #the entire point of that dream was running through a labyrinth of costume lingerie trying to find the entrance so I could visit them lmao #brains are weird #anyway im taking this as a sign that since im gonna chill here for One More Year i must make the most of it and go to more places nearby? #anyway it's 8:45 and i haven't even eaten supper so im gonna wrangle some food now