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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

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John Price x Civilian Reader

After a breakup, Price figures a walk along the beach might make for a good distraction. What he did not expect to find was a strange woman standing off to the shore, who looked as though she were ready to drown herself at sea.

Sappy Romance, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Fluff, Meet-Cute, First Meeting, Young Price, Hurt/Comfort, Breakups, One That Got Away Trope, Reader is a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, mainly told from Price's perspective, Subtle mentions of depression

WC: 2.3k

Prelude | Chapter Two | Chapter Three Masterlist

Chapter One

10 Years Ago...

"We're done, John. End of discussion."

The line grows dead, its monotonous tone buzzing through his phone speakers.

Price didn't bother calling back, as any self-respecting man would do -- or ought to, he thought. There's no need to further embarrass himself begging someone to be in his life who did not want to be there anymore. She is one and a million other breakups before and a million more to come after, he's sure.

Yet, when he went to swallow, the air had caught in his throat rather pathetically, as some old memories felt a need to remind him of themselves now at this time. Her eyes, her smell he's all but come to scarcely remember, the way she once looked at him, the small moments they've built over the years... All forever to be memories, shelved by every other one alike its kind.

Only as of late, those spaces have grown rather crowded. He hadn't planned on making her another part of the collection.

But then again, what else had he expected? The man's been in and out of relationships since his youth. It's what made this last one feel as real as it did, seeing how long they stayed with each other. A new record, in fact. Two years. The team had practically been planning his wedding, it had been that big of a deal. Seems they needn't bother now.

This breakup had been brewing for months though, finally having reached its tipping point once he'd come home three weeks back. Looking back, he wishes he'd taken the warning signs more to heart.

It hadn't been like her to be the one that was hard to reach; she often griped about his unavailability as is. However, the weeks before his return had been the least they'd talked since back when they'd first met. By that point, he'd already been preparing for the worse.

Though, no amount of preparation had been enough to really help him once he'd stepped through the door and finally laid his eyes on her taciturn gaze.

She couldn't have looked less excited to see him when he'd gotten home. All of his things had been put away someplace where she hadn't had to look at them, she covered the pictures they had on the walls and rearranged the apartment to better fit her taste. She'd even made plans for the day, as though she'd forgotten about him entirely, having already removed him from her spaces.

As if that hadn't already stung, the disappointment in her eyes when she had to shift her day around to fit him in again... he went to bed that night having still seen her frown in his mind all the way into his slumber. That had felt like the end before it ever came to fruition.

The next day when it had sparked a "discussion", it soon morphed into an hour-long screaming match between the two. She grabbed her things and walked out without so much as a goodbye, and Price had been given new orders right on time to not be able to mend things before leaving, allowing for the negativity to further fester.

Or had that been his last relationship? They all seem to blend together these days. Whether it be because of him, the other, or circumstance, one way or another, things just never seemed to work out. You'd figure Price would give up by now.

Being alone for the rest of his life didn't exactly sound appealing... yet each day he's watched another person walk out from his life as easily as they've come in. If it's not someone leaving him back home, then it's someone dying in the field. Everything and everyone always just passes through. Always visiting, never staying.

Maybe he's just cursed. He knows the others liked to joke about his luck, as Price seemingly had the worst of it compared to the rest of them. He never took their jokes seriously, but the more time passes, the more he thinks they might be on to something.

Maybe he is just bad luck...

What it was that possesses him after, he's not so sure, but Price has grabbed the keys to his truck and set route on an unknown path, driving aimlessly, until he's found himself parked in an empty parking lot at a lonely beach.

A walk seemed like the sensible thing to have, given the situation.

The sky is gray today, clouds laid out across the sky like a cold sheet, as the icy sun did its best to break through its veil. The seagulls cawed obnoxiously, flying circles above head, as the chilling waves fell peacefully in the afternoon breeze. He almost mistook this sad sight for the beaches back home.

His stationing in the Pacific Northwest had been temporary, that time soon to come to an end once his Captain has gotten his team more work to do. It couldn't come soon enough if you asked him. While the place hadn't left any particular impression, beyond it being rainy and busy, he felt it was time enough to keep moving.

Price pauses in front of the water, staring off towards the sea. The horizon disappears into the distance, blurring into a mesh of grays and blues. The waves crash against each other in loud, unsettling burst. Early signs of a storm. Cold and uninviting. Empty. Easy enough to just... step right into, letting the sea run its course and take care of the rest... oh, how easy it would be...

The man has found himself encapsulated by it suddenly, body frozen. Dissociating. A sad, lonely, dreary sight, akin to every emotion he hadn't yet wanted to focus on.

Out on the field, with the SAS and his team -- who had felt more like family now than any he's had before, it was easy to put this negative energy to good use, staying focused on what matters.

Here by himself, Price often finds that negativity is all he's left with most days.

Perhaps it had been the view or the thoughts of her eyes that accompanied them soon after. Price has already begun to dial his ex's number as he presses the device to his ear and awaits to hear from her again.

"Lord, I'm DONE!"

For a moment, Price had thought that cry of defeat came from the other line. However, this sudden unknown tangent continues behind him, as someone shouts out, "I can't do this anymore!"

To his right, Price had suddenly seen you approaching the shore a few feet away. Angelic looking, the sun seemingly breaking apart and shining a light on you like a beacon of hope. Your white sundress battles against the light gusts of wind that flee from the ocean, your hair blowing around you freely.

You walk over slowly, paying no mind to anyone or anything beyond the sea itself and its lapping waves, and you pause, an epiphany hitting you in the breaking sunlight. Overwhelmingly. You don't speak anymore, nor do you move, simply watching the ocean, your shoulders slouched in defeat, with a look of true hopelessness in your eyes.

You never look his way once. Somehow, Price could sympathize with that.

He can't help but stare, given your sudden outburst, though it hadn't explained what it was that had mesmerized him as well. He could not exactly say why.

"Hello?"

The irritated voice of his ex-girlfriend quickly reminded him that he had been on the phone.

"Morgan?" he asks, even though he's already gathered by the distaste in her tone that it was her.

"Look," she's already prepared everything she had to say to him; he's all but memorized all her go-to phrases and tactics. "I already told you it's over. I'm done with this, John..."

You've started to groan loudly to yourself by the shore again, bringing your hands to the back of your head in defeat. You start to wiggle in your shoes, continuing to watch the horizon.

"...Are you even listening to me?"

Price blinks. "Of course I am," he says.

"Fucking Christ, John," Morgan groans on the other line. "You know, you're really pathetic sometimes."

"Tell me about it," Price says plainly.

Morgan scoffs. Desperate to have some high ground in this; she's now begun to start spitting venom at the man. "I always knew you'd be a fucking waste of time, you know. Everyone told me you would be," she says. "Even now. You just called me to what, exactly? Bother me some more?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Price admits, though saying it out loud only made him feel more fragile than he would have preferred.

"Then why aren't you?"

"Why aren't I what?"

"Talking."

Price rolls his eyes, knowing where this conversation was heading, as it's gone this way a hundred times before. Especially of late.

"It's not as though you've allowed me to," he argues.

Morgan has started going into another rant, one which involved various different words to belittle him for his lack of being a good enough partner for her. Frankly, his mind has begun to wander once again to this strange woman, who has only now begun to worry him, the longer he watches.

You take some steps forward, the ocean waves brushing the tips of your feet. A couple more steps forward and it’s ruined the bottom of your sundress. You just keep walking forward-

“Excuse me, miss?”

Price has called out to you. He's not quite sure what would have happened if he hadn't just now.

"What was that?" Morgan speaks on the other line once more, having heard the man now interrupt her tangent. "Who are you talking to-"

Price has gone ahead and hung up the phone. It hadn't been like he was listening anymore in the first place.

You've paused now, turning to see the man a few feet away who has now called out to you. He's handsome, young, with soft eyes which looked to you with worried curiousity.

If he didn’t know any better, Price would almost say you looked offended that he stopped you. You say nothing, in fact, simply waiting to hear what it was he felt so important to say to you.

The look in your eyes is what had him suddenly tongue-tied, having now grabbed your full attention. He hadn't expected your gaze to feel so piercing. As though you could see right through him.

“I don’t think dresses make for good swimwear," he settles for some humor.

There's a silence after he's said that. A short one spent just looking towards one another, attempting to read the other person, and see what it was that had you both so stopped. For a second, he didn't think that line would work.

Though, your gaze wavers, emotions start to swell in you. You genuinely ask him, your voice nearly broken and defeated calling out over the waves.

“Does it even matter?”

Price thinks to himself, having wanted to give you a proper answer. He slips his hands into his pockets, shrugging to himself, as Price genuinely tells you, “It will when you get out.”

You laugh to yourself, breaking your gaze from him as you've looked back out towards the ocean. If the wind blew a little more in your eyes, you may actually cry. Yet whatever tears seemed to brim at the corners of your eyes, remained there, sat behind a still face that desperately wanted to remain as so.

You stay put, thinking, deciding on what choices you had before you. Price didn’t want to make that decision for you, not knowing what it was exactly that was wrong with you. However, regardless, he had not wished to see anyone drown today.

“Is it cold?” he jokes.

Your face goes blank, and Price can't help but smile at how deadpan it had appeared; as though he had just asked you the dumbest question you've ever heard in your life.

“Is it cold?” you ask with such disdain, the question feeling like an obvious one. And then, you grin. “Why don’t you come find out?” you taunt. “Since you’re so curious.”

There was a hesitancy Price had, one which felt unlike any he’s had before. Your suggestion was simple, yet possessed in it the weight of the entire world. For it wasn’t a matter of bravery or doubt or disinterest, but a simple chance to be had, if willing.

A simple chance...

Price thought about declining at first. He wasn’t particularly fond of getting his shoes wet, and it wasn't like he knew you. Then again, what was there to lose in a little more humor? Today's been particularly humorous as is.

Price walks forward into the sea, the cold water hitting his skin in an icy shock; he has to keep from groaning reflexively. He continues until he's stopped a few feet from you, the water soaking into the bottoms of his pants and seeping into his boots and socks uncomfortably. Too late to turn back now, so he’s accepted it, his face as stoic and dejected as it had been on the shore.

The whole time he's made his way over, your eyes have stayed on him, shocked he actually stepped out here with you, clothes and all. If his attempts had been to distract you, then they certainly worked.

In the water now, Price looks to you, and he gives you a soft, patient smile. One you felt cautious to return.

“Well," you ask him. "Is it cold?"

In all honesty, Price hadn't even noticed the temperature. His heart was racing too much just taking in everything to really give a damn about the water.

“It’s not so bad," he says.

The distant waves crash, the seagulls circling above, as the sunlight warmed the air, its gentle breeze passing between you two. A shared moment in time, where the world felt nothing more than background noise.

"Well aren't you an odd one," you comment.

Price chuckles to himself. "Says the woman trying to drown herself."

You look to him jokingly. "Is that what was happening?"

"I don't know..." Price shrugs. "Was it?"

You look as though you were about to tell him, though you quickly catch yourself, thinking back on whatever that sentence had been previously. You instead look off to the sea again, growing quiet.

"... I don't know," you say. "I just... wanted to get in. Guess my impulses won."

This takes Price aback now, having begun to wonder if he should have come over here. Of course, he could tell you were lying, though he wouldn't press if you did not wish to share.

"And you say I'm the odd one," he teases.

Your smile lifts, the sunlight making your eyes shine brighter than he's seen them this whole time.

"I guess we're both a little odd then, aren't we?"

You make Price laugh to himself, and it's then he's noticed the warmth he'd begun to feel from this conversation. This random chance.

He’s about ready to ask for your name when suddenly you've up and started walking out of the water. Price watches you resubmerge from the sea, your dress bringing a trail of dripping water along with you across the rocky sands.

“Change of heart?” he calls out.

You shout back, “Something like that.”

“I never caught your name.”

You turn around, smiling.

“I know!”

And then you walk away, becoming but a small spec in the distance, before the horizon has swallowed you whole. Price had watched you the entire way, no longer feeling the swell of the waves at his feet.

You never looked back once.

Chapter Two Here!

Author's Note: So this is gonna be a slow-burn romance that goes for 10 chapters. The next chapter is going to jump back to "present" time, which is set at a random time period after the events of MWII.

Each chapter's gonna go back and forth, as we delve into this relationship and what made it not work, and if it can be salvaged. I hope the dialogue wasn't garbage, I promise they'll have more time to develop, and that this isn't all just random stuff either.

I really wanna practice putting themes and foreshadowing and stuff in things. So think of this as a passion project guinea pig WIP. Please stay tuned and leave a comment, I'd love to know your thoughts! If you'd like to be tagged, please feel free to ask! ಥ‿ಥ

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain price #call of duty #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #Spotify

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rocknrollbabe14 · 9 months

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Stuck In The Middle (Joe x Reader) (Part One)

Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: My spin on the enemies-to-lovers trope, cursing, drinking, vomiting, Joe being a little bit arrogant and assholish at times, hate sex (p in v sex, no protection), coercion to have sex (but secretly reader wants it too!), if I forgot anything, let know!!

**Special thanks to @josephs-quinns for making my header!! ❤️**

It seemed like yesterday that your best friend, Melanie had moved to the UK—London specifically for her job. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. It hurt like hell to see your best friend go, but you tried to understand. Every now and then, you’d go to visit her in London and stay at her “flat” as she called it—she said that’s what they referred to an apartment as. It made you laugh, picking up bits and pieces of their lingo the longer Melanie lived over there. The time difference was one of the biggest hurdles you both had to overcome.

You were still awake while she was asleep and vice-versa. In the beginning, it was exhausting to try and wrap your head around. But as time went on, it got a little easier. You all made time to talk to one another, working around each other’s schedules. It’s like you all never skipped a beat—you always picked up right where you had left off. Both of your lives continued to change even if you all lived on two completely separate continents.

Melanie had found someone—a British man. All you really knew was his name was Wesley and he was a really nice guy. You had met him a few times along with his annoying friend, Joseph. Wesley was always very nice and inviting, making sure to make you feel welcome and included. Sometimes, you felt like the third wheel. It was like watching a sappy Hallmark movie—hearing them laugh and giggle, going as far as to even rub noses together. It was so cute that it was nauseating.

You’d order drinks, downing them quickly to try and get drunk and forget the entire thing. They told you how lonely you looked as if you needed reminding. You scoffed lightly laughing and they smiled at one another before telling you they had a solution. Their solution? Inviting Wesley’s friend Joseph along. You were told you’d love him and you both would hit it off, no problem. The idea was nice at first, but your delusional mind believed that may really work out.

But your delusion was quickly shot down. The first time time you met Joseph, he came off as a pompous asshole who obviously thought a lot of himself. Even telling Wesley about all the girls who were in his dms. Not a great way to start a conversation. He appeared to be glued to his cellphone, barely making any conversation with you when you asked him questions specifically about his acting career and how it had taken off. He seemed bored as you tried to make a small conversation.

He would look off, seeming to eye the girls in the bars or restaurants where you all ended up with Wesley and Melanie. It was hard to talk to someone who seemed like they cared less about you or getting to know you. Wesley would apologize for his behavior if he went to order a drink or went off to the bathroom, saying he had just been overwhelmed since becoming famous. You’d just nod with a small smile, pretending like you believed him.

You’d count the hours or minutes until the night would end, returning to Melanie’s apartment. When asking you how you liked Joe, you lied. You hated to lie to your best friend, but she and Wesley acted like you all would just have some fairytale romance and that wasn’t going to be the case. Melanie smiled at your response, telling you she felt like you and Joe hit it off. Was she blind? Where the hell had she been? Or was she too busy in her little love-drunk bubble to realize?

Either way, you were not excited to see him again and honestly dreaded it. You’d seen him a few times after this but did your best to just tolerate him for Melanie.

“So……”, Melanie began, the smile evident in her voice while on the phone.

“So what?”, you smirked back, lying down on your bed.

“Um, you wanna come to London and see me? Wes and I have some really exciting news.”

You sat back up abruptly, your heart dropping down into your stomach. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

You heard Melanie laugh on the other end of the phone. “No—no. But it’s great news and I’d love to tell you and show you in person.”

“Um—okay.”, you began. “When do you want me to fly in?”

“Monday?”

You blew air, thinking about taking more PTO off from work, but you wanted to see Melanie.

“Yeah—okay. Um, question?”

Melanie giggled. “Sure, what is it?”

“Joe’s not gonna be there, is he?”

There was genuine concern in your voice, evident you wanted to avoid him at all costs if you could. He was not your favorite person and that was clear.

“At some point—but Wes and I can pick you up from the airport—just us. I don’t get what you have against Joe. He’s really nice once you get to know him.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Was she talking about the same Joe that you were? Because you didn’t think so.

A deep exhale escaped your lips as you rubbed your furrowed brows. “He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

Melanie laughed. “Well, he was GQ’s man of the year.”

“Melanie.”, you deadpanned before groaning.

She laughed. “Well, just saying. You know, he still isn’t seriously dating anyone.”

“And I care why?”

There was slight venom in your voice as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. To be honest, you couldn't care less who Joe was dating and what kind of girls he was dating. You knew you didn’t match his type. He had been seen with a couple of women, the model kind. You didn’t fit that mold. And you were okay with that.

“Maybe—just maybe you all will hit it off.”

“Doubt it.”

“You never know.”, Melanie sing-songed.

“Promise me it’ll be just you and Wes at the airport, please?”

“It will be, Y/Nickname. I promise, okay?”

Her answer satisfied you, and you hung up. Laying in bed, all you could think about was being forced to see Joe. It was going to be daunting, but whatever Melanie’s news was, you wanted to know and had to be there for her. She was your best friend, after all. You called your supervisor asking for time off and thankfully she didn’t seem to have an issue with it. You apologized for it being such short notice.

The weekend passed and all you felt like you accomplished was packing clothes. Your flight left early at five thirty tomorrow morning and the flight was a long one to London. Laying in bed, you decided to scroll on your phone. Instantly, his face popped up. You groaned, throwing your phone off to the side. Could you not have one last night of peace? Everywhere you looked, Joe seemed to pop up. You knew he was famous and all, but it was becoming really annoying.

Your phone dinged, causing you to pick it up again.

-Can’t wait to see you!! X

Melanie.

-Same here! Text you when I board the plane. :)

Setting your alarm, you closed your eyes and attempted to go to sleep. It felt like you barely closed your eyes when they shot open, hearing the alarm go off. You groaned, reaching for your phone on charge and unplugging it before shutting off your alarm. You blew air as you sat up and grabbed your robe, heading off to the bathroom to start getting ready. It was four in the morning. You fixed your hair quickly, put on some makeup, and got dressed in record time.

Grabbing your suitcase, you made your way downstairs and loaded it in your car. You closed your trunk, releasing a sigh. Nothing to do now but prepare yourself. Once you arrived at the airport, you texted Melanie that you were getting ready to board the plane. Here went nothing. What craziness would find you on this trip? Would you finally go off on Joe? Would you be able to hold your tongue? It was all a mystery. It all depended on what kind of news Melanie and Wes had to share.

The flight was long and exhausting. Your hips hurt from sitting in the seat for so long. When it was announced that you all were finally going to land, you couldn’t have been happier. The process still seemed to take forever as you waited for your luggage in baggage claim. Yours finally showed up, grabbing it and finally feeling excited to go see Melanie and Wesley. Your eyes panned the crowd of people, finally noticing Melanie who was waving widely with a smile on her face. Wesley was waving lightly beside her as you rushed over to them both.

“Oh my God, I’m so happy to see you.”, you smiled as you and Melanie embraced one another.

“Same here. Look, Y/N, there’s something—”

“Wesley, you look so good.”

He chuckled as you all shared a hug.

“Welcome to London.”, Wesley laughed as he shared a nervous look with Melanie.

“Y/N.”, Melanie persisted.

“Yeah?”, you smiled easily but your heart dropped into your stomach as he came into view.

“Is she here yet? She’s taking forever.”, Joe didn’t look up from his phone, making his way back over to the group.

Your smile instantly turned into a frown as you crossed your arms, debating a smart-aleck response.

“You know I don’t control the airline.”, you rolled your eyes, finally getting his attention.

“Joe came with us.”, Melanie smiled through gritted teeth.

“I see that.”, you narrowed your eyes.

They promised you that Joe wouldn’t come with them and now, here he was. You felt overly annoyed and frustrated, wishing you could have five minutes to ask her what the hell she had done by bringing him with them.

“I thought just you and Wesley were coming.”, you said, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

“Well, there is something we’d like to tell you and Joe. You’re our best friends.”, Melanie smiled, her eyes beaming.

You mustered a fake smile before Wesley offered to grab your bags. Joe stayed on his phone, never looking up as you all continued through the airport. The car was parked out front, and Melanie got in the front passenger seat, leaving you and Joe in the back seat. From your understanding, ever since Joe’s acting career went off, he had been hard to relate to and thought he was better than everyone. He thought he could pull any woman he wanted to— the thought alone caused you to roll your eyes.

“How was your flight?”, Wesley asked, closing the door.

“Long.”

Joe chuckled from beside you causing you to instantly glare at him. Who did he think he was?

“What’s so funny, Joe?”, you crossed your arms.

“Your flight was long, that’s a bit of an understatement.”

You rolled your eyes. He was so insufferable. What right did he have to push your buttons like this? You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. Even his presence annoyed you. Everything about him—from the way he fixed his hair to the shoes he wore on his feet annoyed you.

“How does dinner sound?”, Melanie smiled, trying to break up the animosity.

“Fine.”, you and Joe answered together.

Silence took over the car ride as Wesley continued to drive. You knew you hadn’t been here long, but you already wanted to go back home. Especially if Joe was going to be part of your visit. Wesley and Melanie began talking amongst themselves, leaving you and Joe silent in the back. The car ride to the restaurant was agonizing, punishment enough already. You could only imagine how horrible dinner was going to be. What a disaster it would be. You’d have to drink. No, not just drink—get drunk to get through this night.

Then maybe after, this trip wouldn’t be so bad. You could only hope. That was all you could manage to hold onto right now. Wesley finally parked, pulling you all up to a fancy restaurant in Soho. Nothing like you usually had in the States. You all carefully got out, Wesley opening the door for Melanie before handing his keys to the valet, ushering you all to follow him inside.

Inside, quiet jazz music played as the waiter asked how many you had. Wesley told them he had reservations for a party of four. The waiter quickly grabbed menus and told you all to follow him. Weaving in and out of the crowd, you finally found yourselves at a table. Melanie sat on the other side of Wesley, unfortunately leaving Joe and you sitting together. . You both ended up beside each other, you trying your best not to look at him or make accidental eye contact.

You eyed the menu, trying to decide what you wanted. Wesley asked if you had any questions but you told him you decided on steak tartare, also ordering some wine to get started on your way to forgetting this night. After you all ordered, the waiter took the menus. Your drinks were served and you got a funny feeling while Melanie and Wesley were smiling at one another.

“So….”, Melanie began as she grabbed Wesley’s hand.

“So….”, you repeated.

You grabbed your wine glass, bringing it up to your lips.

“Um, Wes and I have some news…..”

This caught Joe’s attention, causing him to look at Wesley with a confused look. Your mind instantly went to the thought that she was pregnant by him.

“We’re engaged!”, they said together as Melanie flashed her ring, causing you to almost spit out your sip of wine.

You heard Joe take a deep breath as you grabbed a napkin to dab your lips.

“Congratulations.”, you finally choked out before coughing easily.

Deep down inside, this felt a little sudden.

“Yes, congratulations.”, Joe agreed, clearing his throat.

“And…..”, Melanie smiled as she looked back at Wesley, he nodded encouraging her to continue. “We want you and Joe to be our maid of honor and best man.”

She was smiling so wide, she was showing all her teeth. She laughed easily, giddy as ever. You were stunned by her even suggesting that you could be a maid of honor with Joe—being the best man. What was she thinking?

“You’re our best mates.”, Wesley smiled before he and Melanie shared a kiss.

You debated for a moment if you should agree to this—you knew what the maid of honor and best man did. Most of the wedding stuff was up to you all. Like bachelorette and bachelor parties, organizing a rehearsal dinner—you’d have to be in constant contact with one another. Did you really want that? But you didn’t want to let Wesley and Melanie down either.

“Um, sure—I’d love to.”, you spoke up finally.

“Yes, of course, I will.”, Joe agreed.

You met each other’s eyes, almost as if you all were thinking the same thing.

“Brill! Can’t wait.”, Wesley smiled.

“So when is the big day?”, Joe asked, sipping his wine before tearing into his oysters.

“The 15th of August.”

Joe coughed abruptly. “That's like—two months away.”

Melanie nodded. “We can’t wait any longer.”

“So I need to stay two months?”

“Actually, we’re planning to have the wedding in Italy.”, Melanie smiled.

“Yes, we’re planning to leave next Monday for Italy—but don’t worry—you and Joe are coming too, we hope.”, Wesley looked into Melanie’s eyes.

You and Joe exchanged looks for once, seeming to be thinking the same thing. Making a mental note, you knew you’d have to ask for an extension on your time off.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”, Joe smiled easily before bringing the wine back up to his lips, making a small face as if it was bitter.

But it wasn’t the wine that was bitter. It was the thought of you all having to be in the same place together for two months. What were Wesley and Melanie thinking? They knew you both clearly didn’t get along well. And now you all were going to have to work together to plan a wedding for your best friends. This was clearly going to be the hardest thing you ever had to do.

“We’re so glad. And we got tickets to see the Arctic Monkeys tomorrow night at the music festival, try to relax and clear the air before things really start up.”, Wesley smirked to Melanie.

“Fun.”, you smiled easily.

“Cheers to that.”, Joe raised his wine glass.

You all made a small toast before you and Joe began downing wine as fast as the waiter could refill your glasses. The rest of the dinner ended up being a blur. You didn’t remember getting in the cab or Melanie and Wes helping to carry you inside Melanie’s apartment and getting you in the bed in her spare bedroom she had prepared just for you to come stay.

“How much did she drink?”, Wesley asked, your brain barely registering his voice inside a haze.

“I don’t know, several glasses. How’s Joe?”, Melanie asked.

So that idiot got drunk too. That made you feel a little better in your drunken state.

“Drunk off his ass.”

“Do you think you’ll be okay getting him inside?”

Their voices were low, barely audible through the door.

“I think so. If I need reinforcement, I’ll call some of our other mates.”, Wesley laughed lightly.

“Okay. Call me when you get home, I love you.”

“I love you too, babe. I will.”

There was the soft sound of Wesley’s footsteps departing along with the apartment door shutting quietly. You heard Melanie sigh before opening your door to peep in on you.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

“Fine—sleepy.”, you responded. “Can you help me out of my clothes?”

You knew you weren’t being yourself. This reminded you of your college days when you and Melanie would hit the clubs, partying. But this felt even worse than those days did. Was it because you’re older now and your body couldn’t handle that stuff anymore? Melanie attempted to help you stand up, most of your weight leaning on her.

“Okay, let’s get these clothes off.”, Melanie said as she tugged at your shirt.

It went up and over your head as she tugged at your dress pants, helping slide them down your leg. She fought against the fear you’d fall over.

“Y/N, can you help me some?”

“I’m trying, Melanie.”, you groaned.

After several minutes of fighting and frustration, your clothes were off leaving you only in your bra and panties before Melanie wrestled to get you in bed, covering you up.

“Goodnight, Mel.”

“Goodnight, Y/Nickname.”, she sighed as she flipped out the lights and shut your door softly.

Your head was pounding as you flipped over in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. It didn’t take long before you drifted off to sleep. Unsure of how many hours passed, you were awakened by that familiar sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. You shot up out of bed, throwing the door to the guest bedroom open and desperately looking down the hallway for the bathroom. Thankfully, you found it before throwing yourself over the toilet, emptying the contents of your stomach.

Silently, you prayed your best friend wouldn’t find you in this state. Hanging your head over the commode, you tried to wrap your head around what happened last night. All you remembered was going to dinner, Wesley and Melanie announcing their engagement and wedding, and you having to be in contact with Joe for at least two more months in Italy before this wedding. Apparently, all that information had been too much and that’s why you felt like wine was the appropriate answer, drinking yourself into oblivion.

You heard the door creak open softly. “Y/N?”

“I’m good, Mel. Go back to sleep.”, you groaned. “And no need to gloat on your way out.”

She chuckled lightly. “Hard to sleep when your best friend is puking her guts out.”

“I know—it’s my fault.”, you groaned.

“Was dinner really that miserable?”

“No. I’m happy for you and Wes, I really am. It’s just putting up with Joe.”

“Joe really isn’t that bad. I’ve had to put up with him a lot—he and Wes are kinda a packaged deal, you know.”, she crossed her arms playfully.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t hate you.”

You felt the nausea coming back on just thinking about him.

“He doesn’t hate you either.”

“Unless you wanna see me throw up again, can we finish this conversation later?”

“I’ll go make tea. Want some?”

“No thanks.”, you grabbed your stomach.

“Suit yourself.”, Melanie shrugged her shoulders playfully before closing the bathroom door.

_________________________________________________________________________

Several hours and a couple of tylenols later, you were finally beginning to feel like yourself again. You were lying on Melanie’s couch, staring at the white ceiling and debating your life choices. The only reason you had agreed to do this was for Melanie and Wesley. You had come to like Wesley a lot and you were happy to know he and Melanie were getting married. He was a good guy and seemed to genuinely care about her. You never expected her to find love in London, but you were happy she did. She deserved it after her last relationship.

“Wes and I are going to taste cake flavors today.”

“Sounds exciting.”, you responded lightly before turning your head to look at her.

She was putting her small hoop earrings in as she tried to simultaneously put on her heels.

“Who doesn’t love cake? Are you feeling any better? Think you’ll be up to the concert tonight?”

“Yeah, I think so. The room doesn’t seem as swimmy, so that’s a plus.”

Melanie chuckled in response. “Good. You and Joe really need to try and bond. It’s important to Wes and I. You’re our best friends and this is our big special day. We can’t have you all getting drunk in the bathroom, trying to avoid one another.”

“He’s the one who comes off snarky and like a pompous asshole.”

“Y/N, please. Just try. For us.”

“Fine.”, you groaned, crossing your arms.

“Alright, I’ll be back later. Go explore London or something.”

You gave a slight smirk at her as she grabbed her keys, and exited the apartment.

You turned on the television in an attempt to find something to watch, eventually leaving on the BBC channel and drifting off to sleep. The time difference was really fucking with you. Your phone’s annoying tones started you out of your sleep as you searched for your phone that you were sure you laid on the coffee table.

“Hello?”

Your voice was groggy.

“Hey. Can you do me a huge favor, please?”

Melanie. Her voice was desperate, she needed a huge favor.

“What’s up?”, you stretched easily, yawning.

“Have you been asleep?”, Wesley chimed in.

“Maybe. Look, the time difference is fucking with me. I’m jet-lagged. What’s up, Mel?”

“I forgot our wedding planner at Wesley’s apartment. We really need it.”

Your brain was trying to catch up.

“And risk running into Joe. No thanks.”

“Please.”, Melanie pleaded.

“Joe won’t bet there, I promise. He’s out for a run. Said he had to pick a few things up.”

You sighed, knowing you were gonna give in. But for the record, you were only doing this for them. No one else.

“Fine. Can you send me the address?”

“Thanks so much Y/N. It means so much to us. I’ll text it right over. See you soon.”

“Uh-huh, you’re welcome.”, you nodded through her endless appreciation.

You got up and threw on your shoes. For the weather, you had decided on jeans and a tank top. You had read that London’s weather could change at the drop of a hat. So far, it was warm and beautiful weather as you locked the apartment. You looked at the address to Wesley and Joe’s apartment, noting that it wasn’t very far from Melanie’s. You decided the walk couldn’t be that bad, right? Hopefully, you would avoid Joe’s running route. What psycho went running in the middle of the day?

You passed a lot of Londoners, feeling like you stuck out like a sore thumb. It felt like everyone’s eyes were on you as if they knew you didn’t belong here. Some people were riding their bikes, running, walking with friends and you silently prayed one person you wouldn’t pass was Joe. You were not in the mood to deal with him today. Not right now, anyway. He was like alcohol, you had to build a tolerance.

After a brisk twenty-minute walk, you arrived at the apartment numbered 213, knowing this was their apartment. Wesley had texted you, telling you there was a spare key under the mat in the event that he or Joe had forgotten their keys or locked themselves out. Looking around, you made sure no one was watching you as you pulled the mat up and grabbed the spare key. One step closer to getting in here, finding the planner, and getting out. That was your goal, that was your mission.

Clearing your throat, you slid the key into the lock. It opened with ease. You braced yourself as you entered their apartment, hesitant of what the smell would be or what you’d find but to your surprise, everything was fairly neat and in order. Shoes were lined up neatly at the door, the smell of bourbon filling your nose. You slid your shoes off, making your way into the apartment, feeling like you were in the clear.

Their apartment was posh-looking, especially for be two men living there. It was neat and classy, but honestly you didn’t expect much less from Joe.

“I wonder where she left that stupid planner.”, you sighed as you began to look in the living room.

“Well hello to you too, love. What planner?”

You jumped, not expecting to hear another voice in the apartment—much less from the person you loathed. Your eyes shot over to the kitchen to find a nude Joe in the kitchen, the counter covering his cock and balls. He had a huge cheeky smirk on his face as he lit a cigarette. His curly hair was sticking to his forehead, his arms glistened in the kitchen light. You cursed your body as your stomach twisted into a pretzel.

“Oh fuck—oh my God. I didn’t think you’d be home. Wes told me and promised me you wouldn’t be here.”, you stammered, covering your face.

Instantly, you could feel the blood draining from your face and your cheeks heating up.

“I came home from my jog a little early. It’s hard not to stare right?”

“Um no I just came here—for Melanie and Wesley’s stupid wedding planning book. Where is it?”

Joe smirked as he took a puff from his cigarette as you flipped over pillows on the couch, turned over magazines, and moved anything that you thought could be in the way of you finding this planner so you could get the hell out of here.

“I could tell you where it is—if you wanna do a little something for me in return, you know, help one another?”

“And what’s that?”, you snapped back, opening the cabinets to the entertainment system.

You were too focused in the living room to notice Joe coming out from behind the counter, his cock on full display. He chuckled softly, causing you to turn around and recoil.

“Maybe give me a little something of yours?”

You knew what he was implying, your eyes narrowing.

“Your sexy little cunt. God, it’s been a while since I had sex.”

“Please. You could have sex with any girl you want.”, you rolled your eyes. “And besides, I hate your guts.”

“Have you ever had hate sex? I mean you’re not looking away or telling me to put clothes on. It’s so big, it’s hard not to look, right?”

“Fuck off, Joe.”

He chuckled tauntingly like he was trying to make you mad. “Aw come on, you’ve never had one this big I bet. Have you?”, he asked, taking his cock in his free hand while he stroked the length of his shaft.

“I’ve had one bigger.”, you lied as you turned your attention to the bookcase.

“Really? Then you’ll have no problem taking mine, will you?”

“And just why should I?”

You skimmed through the bookcase, searching and hoping you’d find this planner. But it wasn’t looking to work out in your favor.

“Because I’m sure you got the speech where we need to get closer, didn’t you? Wesley gave me mine this morning before I left on my run.”

“So sex will bring us closer?”

Your tone was condescending, making it sound like his proposition was the dumbest thing you’d ever heard of.

“Maybe it just makes us hate each other a little less?”

“Where did she put this fucking book?”, you groaned, feeling like you wanted to pull your hair out while completely ignoring Joe’s question.

He watched you for a minute before putting his cigarette out in the ashtray, able to comfortably stroke himself now. You bent over looking in every place that you thought this planner could hide. Were you trying to entice him? It was like dangling a piece of meat in front of an alligator and expecting it not to bite. He bit his lip while watching you intently, thinking of all the things he could do to you. He’d make a mess of you, he just knew it. All he needed was the okay and he would.

You stood back up, running a hand through your hair and debating ripping some out in frustration.

“Fuck me.”, you sighed.

“I’d love to if you’d let me.”, came his snarky response.

You glared at him. “You really know where the planner is?”

“Of course I do. Wes and Melanie always work on it here.”

“And if we do this, you’d tell me.”

“Of course, I would. I’m not a total dick, Y/N.”

“I’ve already been here fifteen minutes.”, you eyed your Apple Watch.

“Fifteen minutes we could have utilized, hm?”, he hummed as he came closer—so close his breath was on your neck.

You could feel his eyes staring at you, studying you. You swallowed hard, closing your eyes. You were not about to give in to Joseph Quinn, were you?

“You’re a pretty girl, you know that? It’s just that fucking bratty attitude of yours.”

You turned to meet his eyes, him continuing to steadily stroke his cock. You couldn’t help it—your eyes wandered down to his cock. You pursed your lips, close to saying something in response but the words weren’t forming. It was like your brain was mush and you hated feeling this way. You hated allowing a man to make you feel this way. Feminists everywhere would be so ashamed.

“So what’s it gonna be, love?”

“Where?”, you sighed, gritting your teeth.

“The couch. Gotta make it quick and fast. You gotta get that planner to Melanie and Wes.”

“Thank you Captain Obvious.”, you rolled your eyes.

“Just shut up and let’s fuck.”, he breathed as he pulled you closer, crashing his lips into yours.

Your brain was running a million miles a minute, trying to think of every reason that this was wrong. He gently backed you up into the living room, beginning to tug at your jeans making quick work of unbuttoning them. You felt the button come loose, him tugging your jeans down so hard you were afraid he might have ripped one of your favorite pairs of jeans. Another reason you could hate him. He broke the kiss, allowing you to steady yourself by holding onto his shoulders as he bent down, helping you out of your jeans. Why was he being rough but nice? It didn’t make sense.

Closing your eyes, your brain was trying to convince you this was stupid. You hated this man. But you weren’t listening to your voice of reason, trying to bury it as one of his hands brushed over your cunt.

“Let’s just see how wet you are for me.”, he breathed as he pulled your panties to the side, immediately inserting two fingers causing you to gasp and dig your nails into his shoulder blades.

He smirked up at you, brown eyes burning with desire and lust. Not those little puppy dog eyes all the girls claimed he had.

“Fuck. You’re soaked.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to look at anything but him. “Am not.”

He laughed at your attempt to convince him otherwise. “Oh you’re soaked, love. This turns you on—I turn you on.”

“It isn’t you.”, you laughed bitterly as his fingers traced your wet folds, going deeper.

“No?”

“No.”, you argued more confidently. “Any human is gonna get turned on when sex is mentioned. Basic sex ed.”, you scoffed as you choked back a moan.

“I suppose.”, he agreed. “But you’re just a little too eager for this, aren’t you?”

“Fuck—you.”, you choked as he buried his fingers deeper. “Thought this was gonna be fast.”

“You want it rough and fast?”

“I’m sure Melanie and Wesley will be blowing up my phone any second.”

“Fine, we’ll fuck fast.”, he groaned as he slid both fingers out of your wet cunt, causing you to whimper before he picked you up and tossed you on the couch, grabbing your tank top, pulling it up and over your head fast and in a hurry.

All that was left was your bra and panties. Grabbing one side of your panties, he jerked them down your legs and kept only one leg in so it would be faster to put them back on or so you imagined. Climbing on top of you, he pulled the cups of your bra down and exposed your breasts just enough so he could play with them. There was no need to take it completely off when you all had to rush through this, right?

Wasting no time, he quickly lined himself up with your entrance. You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself for him. It had been months since you’d had sex and you weren’t going to lie, you were a little eager. Or your body was at least.

“Fuck.”, you hissed as he split you wide open, burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Thought you had one bigger than mine.”

You glared up at him. “It’s been a few months since I’ve had sex, okay?”

“Aw, you’ve been deprived, haven’t you?”, he feigned as he began to move his hips.

You closed your eyes and tried to ignore him, feeling him working himself deep inside of you. It stung slightly, but you knew it was because you hadn’t had sex in a while.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”, he groaned as he quickened his pace, the burning sensation intensifying.

Fighting the urge to crinkle your face, you hoped this pain would soon turn to pleasure. It always did. You didn’t respond to him, choosing to ignore him.

“M’ can tell you haven’t been fucked in a while. How long’s it been?”

“I don’t know—exactly.”, you moaned as you turned your head to the side.

“Sure, you do.”, he moved one of his hands to twist and pinch your hard nipple.

“I don’t know…six months.”, you breathed in a moan as he hit the spot that made you forget your name, instantly turning the pain into pleasure—finally.

“Six months.”, he repeated, breathing beginning to hitch. “I’m gonna give it to you so hard.”

You opened your eyes. “What are you waiting for then?”

He chuckled, a smile spreading across his face. “Be careful what you wish for, love….”

Without warning, he picked up his pace causing your eyes to widen and your senses to heighten. He was putting a lot of force behind it, pounding you into the couch so hard you could almost see stars.

“You—just—might—get it.”, he groaned out.

“Fuck, Joe.”, you moaned as you gripped his shoulder tighter, sinking your fingernails in.

“Your cunt takes my cock so well....”, he hissed as he grabbed one of your legs, slinging it over his shoulder, allowing himself more leverage.

How did you end up in this situation? It wasn’t by chance. Would it happen again? Your brain couldn’t hypothetically answer those questions right now, much more focused on something else—someone else.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah—fits like a glove.”, he grunted as he rutted himself into you.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on a climax. You needed to cum and at least get something out of this for yourself other than Melanie’s stupid planner. You deserved it for having to put up with his dumb ass. It was happening, you were climbing that hill and fast. Joe could read it on your face, he could almost see your heart beating out of your chest. Your pulse was skyrocketing, you just knew it.

“Close?”, He breathed.

You didn’t respond. He was going to get an answer out of you—one way or another. Smirking, he pulled out abruptly causing your eyes to shoot open, a gasp leaving your lips.

“What—the—fuck, Joe?”

“You never answered me.”

You sighed, clearly annoyed. “I was close before you fucking pulled out.”

“See? Was that so hard?”, he asked.

You groaned. “Can you please just shut up and let’s finish?”

He grunted as he continued to fuck himself deep inside you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your own release. You needed this. Your stress was through the roof and you owed this to yourself to get through these next two months. Melanie never explained that you’d be coming to London for a wedding. It was just supposed to be catching up. Joe wasn’t supposed to be in the equation, not for the full length of time.

“It’s easily been thirty minutes.”, you groaned.

“It’s hard to cum when you’re complaining, love.”

“You probably jerk off thinking about it—about my bitchy little mouth, don’t you?”

“I’m not letting you get in control.”, he gritted his teeth, clearly becoming close.

The fight for power kinda of turned you on, helping you become closer to an orgasm. Anything to get you through this. His expression eased when he noticed the signs coming back—the signs you were becoming close to an orgasm again. He decided this time he wouldn’t be too mean. His curls were sticking to his forehead, sweat beading up on his forehead and face. One thing you learned in a short time during your stay here was that Londoners didn’t use air conditioning.

His single chain was dangling as he aimlessly fucked himself into you. What a grade-A douchebag he was. You knew he thought he was God’s gift to women. Hell, he’d probably have another one tonight at the music festival. All you were was a notch in his belt.

“Fuck—I’m gonna cum.”, you hissed.

“Oh fuck—cum all over my dick.”

His words sent you over the edge instantly. You tightened your grip, sinking fingernails into his shoulders as your eyes rolled back in your head, toes curling as you felt your cunt tighten around him and your juices began covering his dick.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck….”, was all you could hiss out during your orgasm.

A proud smile spread across his lips as he watched you come undone right in front of him. He wasn’t going to coerce you through your orgasm, you were a big girl.

“Shit, you squirted all over my dick. You’re a squirter, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer him.

“Fuck, you are. And that’s sexy shit. Porno shit. Every man’s fucking wet dream.”, he laughed as he continued to fuck himself inside of you, only intensifying your orgasm.

Interrupting your moment of euphoria was your stupid cell phone. It took a moment for your brain to even register what it was. It was Melanie’s ringtone.

“Joe.”

“I’m working on it.”, he hummed. “Almost there if you’ll shut your bitchy mouth.”

“You have to fucking cum or get out of me because this means I’m taking too long.”, you rolled your eyes, squirming under him.

“Just relax. Gonna—cum—hold still, fuck—here it comes.”, he threw his head back. “Gonna fill you full.”

You feel his hips stutter as you held onto him haphazardly, instantly feeling his hot, sticky cum coat the walls of your cunt as you stretched just enough to answer your phone.

“Hello?”, your breathing was quick and sounded like you had run a marathon.

“Hey Y/Nickname, did you find our planner? The baker is kinda waiting on us.”, she laughed nervously. “What have you been doing? It sounds like you’re working out or something.”

Joe held back a laugh only snickering as he finished cumming deep inside of you, holding himself there and making sure none was wasted.

“Uh—just nerves. Can’t find your planner and freaking out. I was hoping not to have to call you but I can’t find it.”

Joe slid out once he was sure he was finished, causing you to wince as some of his load seeped out behind him. He disappeared into another room, leaving you on the phone with your best friend, practically naked.

“It’s in Wesley’s room. Just open the door and it should be on the bedside table or in the drawer one, I can’t remember.”

Joe came back with a towel and the planner, holding it like it was some prize.

“Uh, I found it. Be there asap. Send me directions to the bakery. Thanks, love you, bye.”, you hit the end button quickly.

“Clean yourself up and go. Here’s the planner.”, he tossed the towel at you and laid the planner on the arm of the loveseat.

“Really? What a gentleman.”, you rolled your eyes.

“And yet you could have just called Melanie from the beginning to ask her where her planner was, but you fucked me so I would tell you.”, he smirked. “Who really wants this worse than the other?”

You were lying there in disbelief, trying to process this. No way you wanted this more than he did. The only reason you considered this was because you hadn’t had sex in a while. That was the only reason—wasn’t it?

“You’re a dirty girl, Y/N. I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, he turned to go and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You groaned as you quickly wiped yourself off and fixed your underwear and bra before sliding your jeans on. You tossed the towel on the floor, leaving the remnants of the mess you made behind. You quickly looked at yourself in the reflection of the cabinet before grabbing the planner, you looked okay but you definitely needed a shower. In the bathroom, you could hear the sound of water cutting on.

You looked down at the address on your phone, opening the door to the apartment to leave. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day. Closing the door and eyeing your watch, you knew you had to be fast. That took a little longer than you were expecting especially since you had run into some…obstacles. Deciding quickly to hail a cab, you knew this would be the faster route. You had to make up time and it felt bad to know Wesley and Melanie were waiting on you. You couldn’t tell them the real reason for your delay.

Ten more minutes passed before you arrived at the bakery, quickly paying your fare and exiting the cab, holding onto the planner for dear life. You threw open the door to the bakery to see Melanie and Wesley sitting with the baker, looking at designs and flavors while they apologized for the delay.

“Sorry, it took me so long. I looked everywhere.”, you laughed nervously.

“It’s fine, thank you for doing that for us.”, Wesley smiled as you handed him the planner.

“Yes, thank you so much Y/N.”, Melanie chimed in.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed causing you to pull it out of your back pocket. The number wasn’t in your contacts but you instantly knew who it was upon reading it.

-Thanks for earlier. We should do it again sometime. X

“No problem. I’m gonna grab some lunch and head back to the apartment and grab a shower before tonight. Have fun picking cakes.”, you smiled nervously, causing Wesley and Melanie to sense something was off with you but they couldn’t put their finger on it.

You rushed out of the bakery, feeling like you were about to suffocate. The fresh air with the breeze didn’t seem to quail your issues in the slightest. You needed to come to terms with what you had done and quickly. Reality was hitting you full force as you felt something between your legs. This really happened and there was no undoing it. Your phone buzzed again, reminding you that you hadn’t opened or responded to the text message. And your dumb-ass self actually looked again. It was going to be a long two months.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson #joseph x reader #eddie imagines #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #enemies to lovers #Spotify

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highreevess · 2 years

Note

I was wondering if I could request a rafe x reader smut where he gets a new car (preferably a range rover or a lambo) and it’s late at night and he’s driving the car while she’s in the passenger seat. Then she rides him while he’s still driving at high speed.

This request is 😘 “chef’s kiss.”

Late Night Ride

Warnings: Unsafe driving, unprotected sex, underage smoking.

Summary: When Rafe Cameron gets a new car for his twentieth birthday, he takes his girlfriend out for a late-night ride. What Rafe doesn't expect is for that ride to turn into something so literal.

Word count: 2,534

Meet me outside. I parked out front.

My eyebrows furrow as I read the text from Rafe, but I do as he says despite my confusion. I grab a jacket in case it gets chilly and head out of my bedroom with my phone in hand. I carefully make my way over to the front door and quietly unlock and open it before walking outside.

My eyes narrow when I see a black Range Rover parked outside of my house, and for a moment, I think that someone has the wrong house.

Only when the window rolls down and I see Rafe sitting in the driver's seat of the vehicle do I realize that he is in the car. I smile at him and walk over to the vehicle before getting inside of it. I set down my jacket and phone before leaning over to press a kiss on his lips. "Happy birthday, Rafe."

He smiles against my lips and grabs the back of my head, bunching up my hair so that he has a firm grip on it. He deepens the kiss and glides his tongue over my sealed lips, requesting entry to my mouth. I grant it to him with no hesitation, and he skillfully glides his tongue into my mouth, tasting every bit of me, before finally, pulling away. "Thank you, baby."

I can't help but look down at his swollen lips and bite my own bottom lip when I see them. God, he looks good when his lips are red and swollen from kissing me.

When I realize I'm staring at his lips, I slightly shake my head and look back up at his eyes. "I thought you were going to be with your father for your birthday," I tell him, and he rolls his eyes. He turns his head away from me and starts the car. "He had to go buy Sarah a sweater at some shop on the mainland," he tells me, his jaw ticking.

My eyebrows furrow. "But it's your birthday."

Rafe scoffs. "Ya. Guess I don't rank high enough." Though Rafe's tone of voice is uncaring, I can tell by the look in his eyes that he does care. I know how much he loves his father, and even if he won't admit it, I know how much he wants to make his father proud. Growing up, it was always Sarah who got his father's attention. Never him. It was only him when he did something wrong or not 'right enough.'

Rafe turns his head and meets my gaze. When he sees the expression on my face, his hard features soften.

He places one of his large, veiny hands on my own and gives it a tiny squeeze. "But being here with you is better."

The sheer sincerity in his tone makes me smile.

Though I would love to make some sappy comment, I know that Rafe would either roll his eyes or get uncomfortable, so instead, I ask, "where are we going?"

He shrugs and puts the Range Rover in drive. "Just driving. But if you want to stop somewhere, we can."

I nod. "Can we stop at Chick-fil-a?" I should've eaten when I got home, but I didn't, so I'm freaking starving.

He checks his watch. "If I drive fast."

I smile. "Then drive fast."

The corner of his lips tugs up. "Yes, ma'am."

We pull away from my house and head down my street before pulling onto a four-way lane. Rafe drives down the lane we're in at eighty miles an hour, trying to get to Chick-fil-a before they close, which is in eight minutes.

I hate to be the type of person that shows up right before closing, but if I don't get something in my stomach within the next twenty minutes, I'm either going to throw up or faint.

Or both.

When Rafe pulls into the Chick-fil-a drive-thru, it's three minutes before ten, and I already feel the guilt for coming here so late. I turn to Rafe and ask, "order for me?"

His eyebrows furrow. "Why?" By the tone of his voice, he doesn't have a problem ordering for me; he just wants to know why.

"I feel bad," I whisper as he pulls up to the drive-thru. He rolls his eyes, but I catch the small smile that makes its way onto his face.

"Large mac & cheese, a water with ice, a thirty-piece chicken nugget with ketchup and Polynesian sauce, and a Chick-fil-a sandwich with only American cheese and bacon." Rafe and I can split the nuggets, and the sandwich and mac & cheese are for me.

He smiles and turns away from me. "Hey, can I get two large waters, a large mac & cheese, a thirty-piece nugget, a chick-fil-a sandwich with only American cheese and bacon, and some ketchup and Polynesian sauce?"

"Of course. And will that be all for you today?" the lady on the speaker asks.

Rafe turns his head toward me, his eyes narrowing. Then, he turns back. "A cookie and an ice cream in a cup please."

I smile at him knowing my favorite desserts.

"Alright, will you please pull up to the window?" the lady at the speaker requests, and Rafe nods before driving up to the window.

A man opens the window and hands us an ice cream cup and a spoon before saying, "the rest will be out in a minute."

Rafe nods. "Sorry for coming so late by the way."

The man at the window waves a hand, dismissing the need for an apology. "We're used to it, man."

The rest of our food comes out in just two minutes. Rafe takes the bags from the man at the window and pays the total before handing the bags over to me. I eagerly take them into my hands, my mouth watering at the smell of the food.

I dig into the bags and make sure that all the food is correct before nodding at Rafe, who drives away when he sees me nod. I then eagerly grab my chicken sandwich from the bag and take a large bite of it. I gobble the entire thing down in two minutes.

When I finish my sandwich, I throw the bag it came in into the larger bag before fishing out the box of nuggets. I hand them over to Rafe, who takes them with a small smile. "Sauce?" he asks, and I nod. I grab the packets of Polynesian sauce and hand them over to him before grabbing the mac & cheese for myself.

Together, we eat our food in about ten minutes as we drive down the highway. Once we finish, we toss everything back into the large back our food came in, and I sigh with contentment. "Now that is a meal," I smile, leaning back into my seat.

I see the corner of Rafe's lips kick up out of the corner of my eye.

I also see him adjust the way he is sitting before speeding up the vehicle. He goes from eighty miles an hour to over a hundred in just a few seconds, and I grab the armrest in between our seats.

Rafe notices this and glances at me. "Too fast?"

I shake my head, smiling. "Not at all." Truth be told, I love the thrill of going fast, whether it's in Rafe's car or on his bike. I know that Rafe will always keep me safe, so I'm not worried about getting hurt.

He smirks. "Then let's go faster." He presses down on the gas, and his speed goes from 101 to 122 in only five seconds.

When Rafe gets to an even 130, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes as well as a lighter. He plucks a cigarette from the red and white packaging before putting it into his mouth and lighting it.

He takes a long drag of the wrapped tobacco before setting down the lighter and turning toward me. He holds out the cigarette for me to take, and I do so with a smile. I place it between my lips and suck before inhaling the smoke with a happy sigh. The nicotine buzzes in my body, causing me to relax in the seat.

I take another drag before handing the cigarette back to Rafe.

He takes it, and I watch as he wraps his perfect lips around it and inhales a long breath. When he blows it out, I watch his clothed chest fall in an exhale.

I don't know why, but I find myself clenching my thighs together.

Perhaps it's seeing Rafe's lips wrap around the cigarette that makes me do that, or maybe it's the way his right hand grips the steering wheel, his gold rings lit by the pale moonlight shining into the car. I don't know. All I do know is that I am hyper-aware of everything Rafe does in this moment.

Swallowing, I avert my gaze and reach forward to turn down the ac. Hopefully, the lack of cool air will help me get my body under control.

I catch Rafe's glance when I settle back in my seat, but I pretend that I don't. Instead, I turn my head and look out the window, watching as the trees that surround us zoom by.

"Cold?" Rafe asks, and I flinch a bit at the sudden sound of his deep voice.

I turn my head and meet his gaze before shrugging. "A bit."

Rafe reaches forward and turns the ac off upon hearing my words. Then, he leans back into his seat and places his left hand on the steering wheel, taking his right hand off.

Before I can question why he's switched hands, his large, veiny hand comes down gently on my thigh.

Rafe grabs my thigh in a gentle hold, his warm fingers gently pressing into the flesh of my inner thigh.

Though the affectionate gesture should make me smile, it doesn't. It just makes me hot, and not in the physical way.

But I don't remove his hand. Instead, I allow him to softly kneed the flesh of my left thigh as he drives down the road at high speeds, even though I know I shouldn't. Every second more he spends touching me sends heat to my pussy, and after a few moments, I find myself rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Rafe keeps his eyes on the road, but I can tell that he notices me rubbing my thighs together. He just doesn't say anything.

After a few moments, the ache in between my thighs becomes too powerful to bear, and I end up turning my head to face Rafe. I whisper his name, and he turns his head to meet my gaze.

"What is it?" he asks, his gaze flickering to the road ahead of us.

I glance at the road before saying, "slow down."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he listens to me and slows down. He slows the car until he's at about eighty miles per hour, and that's when I climb over my seat and get on top of him. I place my legs on either side of his own, straddling him.

"Babe—"

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his.

Rafe's mouth parts in surprise, and I take that as an opportunity to slide my tongue past his lips. I glide my tongue over his bottom teeth before moving my arms so that they are grabbing his biceps.

"Babe, I'm driving," Rafe tells me, turning his head to break the kiss.

Slightly breathless, I pull away and say, "then keep your eyes on the road while I take what I want." My body is on fire, and there's this aching need between my legs that makes all logic fly out of the window. I know that I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't even bring myself to care.

I press my lips to his again before he can say something else and run my fingers through his soft hair.

And this time, Rafe returns the kiss.

He kisses me back with eagerness despite his previous objections, and I smile against his mouth because of it.

I begin to grind against him, and I moan into his mouth when I feel his cock growing under me.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me one day," Rafe says against my lips, and I smirk. "Hell of a way to die," I tell him. He smirks. "Yes, it is."

I move my hands and shift myself so I can reach the hem of his shorts. I quickly unbutton them and pull them down before sliding my own shorts to the side. Then, I sink down on him.

He groans when my ass meets his thighs and wraps one of his arms around my waist as he watches the road. "Jesus Christ, Y/N."

I slowly lift myself off of him until just the tip of his cock is inside of me before slamming back down. A loud moan escapes my lips when I feel his cock hit that one spot inside of me that makes me see stars.

"Go faster," I tell Rafe as I begin to bounce up and down on his thick cock.

"Baby—"

"I said go faster," I order as I ride him. I know that the very last thing I should do is tell Rafe to go even faster than he's already driving, but something about the thrill of doing so silences all the warning bells going off in my head.

I hear a breathless chuckle escape Rafe's lips. "You're fucking crazy, Y/N."

But still, he speeds up.

As I feel the car move faster, I speed up my riding, bouncing up and down on his cock as quickly as possible. I also slide one of my hands up my shirt and grip my breasts.

My head tilts back as I feel pleasure coiling low in my abdomen. "Oh, God," I moan.

"You gonna cum, pretty thing?" Rafe asks, placing a singular kiss on my shoulder.

I nod and remove my hand from my breast. I drag it down my body and begin rubbing my clit with my fingers as I continue fucking myself with Rafe's cock.

I feel Rafe speed up the car even more when he hears my words, and my veins pump wildly with adrenaline.

"Fuck, I'm close," I tell Rafe as he places light kisses on my right shoulder.

Rafe pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "Cum for me, Y/N."

That's all it takes.

The pleasure in my pussy explodes, and I cum with a loud cry that Rafe swallows with a kiss. I melt into his touch as I ride out my blissful orgasm, and he continues kissing me through it.

And though my mind is hazy because of my orgasm, I hear Rafe groan against my lips, and then, I feel him spill inside of me.

As we both come down from our highs, we catch our breaths and relax into each other's bodies.

Then come the sirens.

My eyes widen, and I look down at Rafe. "Oh, shit."

Taglist: @phildunphyisadilf @houseofperfecttaste

#outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron one shot

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saruman-the-silly · 9 months

Note

If its okie, some extra sweet fluffy copia with a pudgy fem.reader? ( or gn, if that's easier >w< )

HELL YEAH I gotta say, Copia would absolutely love a bigger girl, have you seen this mans ass?? He would worship the ground you walk on like 24/7

I know this probably wasn't what you had in mind but I hope you don't mind the direction I went with it (Idk why I thought of writing this hehe) but I made him propose to you and I made it extra fluffy and sappy, so hehe :D enjoy!

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

Copia slammed the giant book on his desk shut, looking at the clock. His work was done for the day and he was free to see you, finally. He missed you, your smile, your laughter and your beautiful eyes he could get lost in for hours.

..Today was also the day he would finally propose to you, after being together for 3 years. Time does fly, when you're spending it with the most beautiful woman in all existence, Copia thought to himself.

Copia opened the ring box and looked at it fondly. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and decided to text you.

"Amore, are you done with your work? I would like to take you out for dinner tonight, if that's okay. We could go to your favourite restaurant at 7?"

He put the phone down, but instantly got a reply.

"Yeah, that sounds fun! I would kill for some food right now 😫, I'll take a quick shower and meet you there!"

Copia sent a short but sweet reply, and smiled to himself. His amore was just too sweet to him, the old man he was. He sighed, rubbing his eyes and got up to find something appropriate to wear.

He looked at the ring one last time, making sure it shone brightly and put the box back in his pocket.

Meanwhile, you were getting in the shower and thought about Copia. Oh, how you loved your sweet, awkward and handsome Copia. Your thoughts trailed back to your first meeting..

When you first met him you were sure he would not take any interest in you, with you being a bigger girl. You weren't skinny like the other Sisters, so you thought he would just do what any other Sibling would do: be polite and leave it at that.

You were walking down a hallway, carrying some translated texts for Primo, and you bumped into someone. And the texts flew. Everywhere.

"Oh nononono, I am so sorry, sorella, I did not watch where I was going-" The cardinal fumbled, gathering the texts, but he froze when he made eye contact with you. You blushed under his intense gaze, and smiled nervously.

"It's okay, but thanks anyway." He still couldn't stop staring at you. You waved a hand in front of his face.

"Helloo? Cardinal?" Copia blinked rapidly and blushed.

"I am sorry I was just distracted by your beautiful eyes, le mie scuse sorella." He got up and took your hand, gently placing a kiss on it.

Your first meeting was straight out of a movie, and the whole relationship that bloomed from it proved to be even better. You shook your head, rinsing the left over conditioner off and got out of the shover.

You decided to keep your outfit simple today, only putting on some mascara and a red lip with your favourite red dress. Soon it was time to go, and you arrived at the restaurant, looking for Copia.

Copia was feeling a bit nervous, fidgeting with his gloves. He felt the little square box in his pocket and sighed, looking around for you. And there you were.

You looked like a goddess. The red dress showed all of your curved perfectly and Copia was sure he was dreaming. This woman, this perfect woman, was his. He scrambled up from his chair, greeting you with a kiss on the hand.

"Amore, you look absolutely divine tonight." Copia shamelessly checked you out right then and there, making you blush.

"Oh stop it, you don't look too bad yourself," you smiled and straightened his collar. He grinned, before pulling up a chair for you.

You sat down and ordered your food, talking each others day and how it went. You noticed Copia looked a bit more nervous than usual, but you shrugged it off, maybe he was just a bit anxious.

After you had finished your food, paid for it and you got up from the table, Copia said: "Let's take a walk now, I know a beautiful place nearby."

You happily agreed and took his arm, letting him lead you outside. You strolled along the small path, chatting happily. Copia's eyes seemed to glow under the autumn sunset, and you found yourself getting lost in his mismatched gaze once again.

"...Amore? Are you in there?" Copia laughed, waving a hand in front of your face. You blinked and shook your head, "Yeah? You were saying?"

Copia grinned, making his dimples more prominent. "I was saying how gorgeous you look tonight, mia amata." You smirked, and slowly brought your hands around his neck, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Not as gorgeous as you, Copia." You whispered in his ear, making his breath stutter. You pulled back, kissed him on the nose and laughed at his face. Copia smiled fondly, and took your hand, leading you up to a small pond.

"Wow, this is so pretty! Why haven't I seen this place before, it looks so beautiful with all the autumn colours and-" You admired aloud, before turning back to Copia, who was kneeling down on one knee before you. Your hands flew to your mouth and you gasped.

"Il mio amore, il mio cuore, la mia vita. I cannot describe all the things I feel when you are with me. You have made me the happiest man on earth, from the moment I first bumped into you. I was a lonely man, but you changed that. You made me see the worth in myself.

In turn, you gave me the honour of getting to know you, inside and out." Copia got the tiny box out of his pocket, and opened it to reveal a beautiful engagement ring.

"I honestly do not know what my life would be without you, amore," He smiled, eyes shining. "So, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?"

You had started crying some time during his little speech and you answered: "Yes! Yes, a million times yes!" Copia gave a relieved laugh, and shakily put the ring on your finger.

When he got up, you embraced him tightly, hugging him while crying. He held onto you tightly, burying his face in your hair. When you pulled back, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him fiercely, pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss.

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

I tried to make it extra fluffy and romantic, hope you enjoy! <3

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months

Note

Headcanon sentences!;

1. "You're going to be a good sad someday, Teddy bear" teddy bear = Eddie's nickname

2. "Saying yes to you was the best decision of my life"

3. Based on me playing Steddie in the Sims 4: Steddie playing Sims 4 and "How do you keep setting the stove on fire making Mac and cheese?!"

🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️🐼

Okay assuming that's a typo and you meant dad this one's gooooood shit

No one had expected Max to be the first one with a baby, or a baby at all for that matter.

But here she was, 22 years old, Lucas by her side, holding their newborn baby boy with the biggest smile on her face.

She'd only given birth a few hours ago, Lucas' family coming in to visit before she even got a chance to take it in.

Eddie had never held a baby. Not once.

But he knew how to comfort Max, had been the best at it for the last 8 years or so. She looked exhausted, and he immediately put his arm around her shoulders and let her rest her head on his shoulder.

"Proud of you, Red. Look at this little gremlin. Poor thing looks like Lucas. Hope he grows out of that."

Lucas interrupted his own conversation with Steve to glare at him.

"You wanna hold him?"

Eddie couldn't exactly turn that down, not when Max looked like she was kind of asking for a break without actually asking for one.

She gently placed the sleeping baby in his arms.

He felt it immediately: the why someone would put their body through this, the why people choose to throw a specific type of fun out the window to have kids.

"Decided on a name?"

Max leaned her head up from where she'd rested it on her pillow.

"Yeah. Steve? Stop talking to Lucas and come look at my baby."

Steve did as she asked, like he always did. It was no secret she was tied for favorite kid with Dustin.

"Steve, Eddie, this is Andrew Steven Sinclair."

Eddie and Steve looked up at her together, equally surprised by the name choice.

They both cried, and Max rolled her eyes, but didn't tease them about it, probably already warned to be kind by Lucas.

Steve held him for a few minutes, walking around the room and gently rocking his arms to keep him asleep.

Eddie watched until it was his turn again.

He held him for nearly 30 minutes before Steve finally told him they needed to go and let Max and Lucas rest and bond with Andrew alone.

As they left the hospital, Eddie kept rambling about things he wanted to buy for Andrew, things he wanted to do with him as he got older. It continued on for the entire drive to their apartment in the city and even over dinner that night.

Finally, Steve kissed him, effectively shutting him up long enough to talk.

"You're gonna be a good dad someday, teddy bear."

Eddie blushed.

He saw it now. He saw what Steve wanted so badly and now he wanted it too.

He'd make sure they had it somehow.

--------

2. This could be so sappy but what if it was funny instead

It was late.

They were tired.

Food didn't make itself and they were way too exhausted to do it themselves.

"I could just call in pizza."

Steve had turned down takeout already because of their budget or whatever, but Eddie was too hungry to care about a budget now.

"Fine. But just a small. No drinks or breadsticks."

Eddie jumped up before Steve could change his mind.

Because it was so late, the pizza was delivered quickly. Weird how no one else wanted pizza delivery at one in the morning.

They both let out loud moans at the first bite, smiling at their pizza slices like they found long lost loves.

"Aren't you glad I convinced you to order pizza?"

"Saying yes to you was the best decision of my life."

"And they call me the dramatic one!"

"Shut up and eat your pizza."

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

3. Okay but actually funny story one time I did forget I was boiling water to make mac and cheese (I was in like 6th grade leave me alone) and nothing caught on fire but the kitchen sure didn't smell good for a while

In a strange turn of events, Eddie took on a nanny job when they moved to Chicago. It paid well and he was guaranteed off for any shows his band played, plus all the major holidays and half of summer.

It paid so well, in fact, Steve could focus on his college classes instead of also having to work.

Every Monday, instead of going to the family's house, they dropped their five year old daughter, Emily, at Steve and Eddie's apartment.

They'd have a full day of walking to the park at the end of the block on nice days, or playing with Eddie's "for fun" guitar, or laying out tons of paper across the kitchen floor and finger painting, or playing princess and dragons.

Eddie was great at it. Except for the whole cooking part.

Usually, meals were prepped already when he went to Emily's house. But on Mondays, he had to make lunch and dinner for her.

He stuck to sandwiches for lunch, but dinner could get rough.

He managed to do okay with microwaving chicken nuggets or cooking frozen pizzas.

But he'd gone through two stoves from trying to make mac and cheese.

He was persistent though, knew if he just focused on only the mac and cheese, nothing would burn or catch on fire or break.

Unfortunately, Emily chose to have a Code Red Emergency just when he added the pasta to the pot.

It's fine, I have 8 minutes to fix what she needs me to.

Emily had broken one of the minifigures that Eddie used for D&D and she was heartbroken. Eddie explained it could be fixed, he'd just glue it tonight and she could play with it again next week, but she was inconsolable.

Naturally, he got distracted trying to help her and the smoke alarm started going off.

"Shit!"

"That's a bad word!"

"I know!"

Eddie managed to handle it before the fire got big, but their mac and cheese was burnt and he would just have to settle for some fish sticks.

Emily got picked up and her parents smirked at the smell and slight haze to the air, but didn't comment.

Steve, however, wasn't going to ignore it.

"Oh my God, you did it again didn't you?"

"Did what?"

"How do you keep setting the stove on fire making mac and cheese?!"

"Emily was having a crisis!"

"We're going to have a crisis if you don't get to it in time and burn the whole apartment complex to the ground!"

They made a new rule that night that he wasn't allowed to make any kind of pasta anymore unless Steve was home to watch.

He'd feel stupid if it wasn't such a good idea.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #headcanon

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rcubens · 18 days

Text

Southern Hospitality

TASK 2— A Eulogy by Reuben Sharpe

So he had finally found a tie. Did it fit with his outfit? He wasn’t exactly sure and with the compounding weight of a White Russian hangover and an impending funeral, he couldn't care less. He was grateful that Angus had given him a heads up about the eulogy, he spent the entirety of his night restless staring at the ceiling of his second childhood bedroom trying to string a cohesive sentence together. Nothing sounded right, it was either too sappy, or too vindictive, or too guilt ridden. As Mrs. Tristan read out the order of proceedings to the small group he almost asked if he could be excused; the cue card in his jacket pocket burning a hole in his side.

Reuben wasn’t well versed in funerals— something he used to be grateful for but, currently regretted. The whole weekend had been an exercise in time-travel. The same rooms, the same halls, the same bickering and same ridiculous thing they called a family. And to Reuben it seemed as though nothing had changed. He wanted to remain there forever. Sell his DC condo, quit his job and just roll out of bed and into the kitchen where breakfast was already prepared. Walk around the grounds, drink the wine cellar dry, bother all of his siblings daily. In DC, he was an island— well, there was Angus but, still he was alone. A solo office, a one bedroom off Columbia, an only child.

Hyperaware of his own presence and looking to the other wards for guidance, like he was thirteen again. This time he walks through the cemetery without his mother by his side, but rather, in his breast pocket. He needed her strength today, thinking about her for the first time in a long time. Today, he might very well be orphaned. There are too many people here for his liking, people he doesn’t recognize. Rich philanthropists, local politicians and other old geezers that probably knew Richard back when his dad did. Red rimmed eyes dart around, maybe his aunt was here. Or perhaps she moved her practice back to Georgia, or maybe she was dead. Maybe Reuben was orphaned long before Richard left.

As he sat listening to the other eulogies, he’s fidgeting with his father’s cufflinks. The smooth gold beneath his fingers reminds him of his father. He’d know how to do this. How to wrap your venom in niceties, Southern hospitality or some bullshit. Before he knows it, someone is nudging him and motioning him to stand. Suddenly, his attention seeking efforts don’t feel so brave. It’s like that reoccurring dream you have when you’re walking down the hall of your high school stark naked and everyone’s laughing at you. His cheeks are hot, and he’s trying not cry, to not deceive these people into thinking he cares.

He stands at the pulpit, hands gripping the sides so tightly his knuckles are white. He can’t look out at this crowd and say the things he wants to say. He looks down at the worn wood as he slips his notes out of his pocket. Looking up for a beat through blond curls at Mrs. Tristan, her face says Reuben is on very thin ice…or maybe that’s what mourning looks like on someone who did all the work and received none of the credit.

He stands a little taller and takes a deep breath. “For those of you who may not know me, I’m Reuben Sharpe— my father was Senator Benedict Sharpe and my mother is Evangeline Louise Marston Sharpe, and after the death of my father I was brought here to Woodrow House.” He pauses to chew the inside of his cheek, which is raw from all the nerves of the past 48 hours.

“Richard Woodrow was not a good father—” a wave of anxious energy floods every vein in his body. But no one rushes to silence him or chalks it up to Reuben just being Reuben. Fortunately for him, there’s a captive audience. “A good father loves unconditionally— there’s no favouritism for the smartest, or the ones who could charm the birds out the trees or the one’s that mirror those he’s lost. No, a good father is there for them all, not his money or the people he hires to stand in but, the man himself.”

While it feels like an opportune moment to cry, Reuben feels the absence of feeling at all. Like he was slowly floating upwards like a rogue balloon that escaped the hands of a small child.

“But I don’t blame Mr.Woodrow, he wanted to do the right thing— shit, we all do. It’s not like they write a manual on how to raise 16 kids at once. He did the best he could and delegated all the harder tasks to Mrs. Tristan, whom I don’t think likes me very much right now but that’s nothing new—” he smiles sheepishly, mostly to himself.

“I spoke to Mr.Woodrow last week and said some things I don’t exactly regret but ,would take back if I knew it was the last time I’d ever see him. If I got to speak to him one last time, I think I’d say something along the lines of: thank you for being the next best thing. You did your best, and now I think I understand.”

Whatever tension he’d been holding had rapidly dissipated. If he didn’t get horizontal quickly, he might pass out. He raps his notes against the pulpit before stepping down and walking out of the ceremony.

#wrhq.task #i'd like to thank father john misty deftones grizzly bear and my 80s playlist for getting me through this #if no one else was gonna b a shithead u know reuben had to do it to em #This at one point was 1700 words long and i was like well maybe i should not do that #i'd like all threads from here on out to be ppl being mean to reub pls and thank u

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ramblingsofafanatic · 1 year

Text

Narrow Escape

Bahryn Fest day 2, we got some soft Kalluzeb hurt/comfort art and fic.

Word Count: 667

Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios

Warnings: Non-Graphic descriptions of fairly major injuries

Can also be read on AO3 here!

Fic under the cut:

Kallus wakes up faster than he'd like. The pain swiftly bringing him awake at the first brush of consciousness. He groans, as he tries to open his eyes. Only one manages to open, and it's closed again in short order at the bright lights in the med bay. He hears his name being called out from someone beside the bed and it takes him another second but he opens his eyes and turns his head slightly to look at who it is.

"Zeb?" Kallus croaks out before coughing. His throat is beyond dry.

"Hey Kal," Zeb says softly as he tries to wave down either a med droid or techs without letting go of Kallus' hand. A med droid comes over and scans Kallus before giving him a run down. Three cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, a mild concussion, and his leg is most certainly busted again. Not to mention the bruises and scrapes littering almost every inch of him.

Kallus tries to talk again but is cut off by more coughing. The med droid passes Zeb some water before shuffling off to the next patient and Zeb helps Kallus drink some before the human tries talking again.

“Was the mission successful,” Kallus asks and Zeb scoffs.

“Depends on your definition of successful.” the ‘you almost died’ wasn’t said but it was heard.

“Did the data chip of imperial information I collected get back to the intelligence department.” Kallus specifies.

“It did,” Zeb says.

“Good… hope you weren’t too worried about me”

“Worried?! Try kriffing terrified Kal! They couldn’t even tell me if you’d make it or not until a few hours ago” Zeb exclaims, he gestures with both his arms before stopping abruptly when Kal winces at the moment. He forgot he was still holding Kallus’ hand and he’s quick to place it carefully down on the bed.

“Sorry,” Kal says.

“Sorry? Why are you apologizing? I'm the one that just hurt you.” Zeb asks, bewildered. Kallus snorts and although the noise startled Zeb the first time, it’s now a more than welcomed sound.

“I meant about worrying you,” Kallus explains.

“Oh, well yea ya should be sorry for that,” Zeb says with a grin.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Kallus asks, and a lot of ideas flash before Zeb’s mind but none of them could be done with Kallus’ current condition, so he thinks a bit longer.

“Do you trust me?” Zeb asks instead of answering.

“Of course,” Kallus says with no hesitation.

“I have somewhere I wanna take you, but I can’t tell you where it is, or what it is really until we get there. You’ll have to be totally in the dark about it, ” Zeb says.

“Okay,” Kallus says.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course, it may have to wait a bit though, I don’t think they’re gonna let me leave for a bit.” Kallus says.

“Neither am I, I changed out for perimeter patrols until you’re better. The med staff have all been informed to comm me as soon as you try anything stupid” Zeb says, Kallus raises an eyebrow.

“But you hate being planet side?” Kallus asks, scrunching his nose in confusion before wincing and intentionally relaxing his face. It’s Zeb's turn to snort as he reaches out to take Kal’s hand again.

“I hate being away from you more,” Zeb says with a shit eating grin, he knows how Kal feels about sappy things like that (he pretends to hate it but not-so-secretly loves it), and he’s rewarded for his efforts with Kallus groaning and failing to hide the smile trying to take over his face.

“Tell me again why I put up with you.” Kallus asks.

“Because you love me?” Zeb asks, reaching out to place a hand lightly on the side of Kallus’ face, trying to avoid the large amount of bruising around his eye.

“Yea, I love you, you idiot.” Kallus responds before turning slightly to press his lips lightly against Zeb’s wrist.

#art #kalluzeb #bahrynfest #bahrynfest2023 #bahryn fest 2023

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kazutora-lover · 1 year

Text

——————————————————————————————

Headcanons —» "spending New Year's Eve with them"

Characters —» Chifuyu, Baji x gn!reader

Notes —» a little something for you guys and happy new year! Hope y'all are going to be happy and healthy!! Thank you for the support in 2022 — let's make the best of 2023! ~ ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

——————————————————————————————

Chifuyu

He's someone who likes to be prepared

You probably start planning 2-4 weeks before New Year's Eve, so that everything's going to work out just fine

You Invite everyone early enough and Chifuyu tells them to be on time (even though he's late sometimes too)

Such a hypocrite lmao

But don't be fooled, this man reeks of chaos

Wants the party to be cat themed and won't drop the topic until you give in

Probably tries to put his thousand winters shirts to good use, again

Asks you to give one to every guest, because he knows they like you and wouldn't reject your 'gifts'

It backfires really quick because Inupi stains the shirt in literally any liquid before he even gets (forced by Chifuyu himself) to wear it

Some things never change, no matter the timeline lmao

Chifuyu's a good host though

Definitely always makes sure that every guest is satisfied

The moment Baji arrives, it's over though

Be prepared for a lot of bickering and teasing

And no matter how old they get, Chifuyu will ALWAYS stay a simp for Baji

Don't worry though, he will always reassure you that you're the only one for him and that he doesn't want anyone else

He also tends to get sappy real quick — please shut him up or the others will do it

You're gonna have a great time with this one

——————————————————————————————

Baji

BRUH

He's so damn chaotic, it's not even funny

Like, does he plan? No

This man thinks it's more than enough to start planning like 2 days before New Year's Eve

When you tell him that you're worried about the outcome he's chill, telling you not to worry about it and that the others know what to bring

Turns out the others knew shit

Kazutora and Chifuyu definitely tease him for it and Baji threatens to beat them up (again)

You told him that you'd be the one planning the party the next year and Baji just agreed, he knew better than to argue with you

Listening to his mom definitely paid off (she told you to stay stubborn with him lmao)

You guys had to order food late in the evening because a certain someone forgot to inform the others to bring something

Took the food more than two hours to arrive due to the high demand

You guys started playing games and ate all the snacks you still had at home

The Bajitrio? Inseparable men

Doesn't matter how many guests there are, these three are always together

You jokingly told Baji to date them instead and much to your surprise, this fucker agreed

Told you he was joking not even a minute after but Kazutora intervened and jokingly told you to just date him instead

Baji's never turnt his head as fast as he did that evening, his glare unmistakable lmao

Will kiss you right when the clock strikes 12, just to get his point across

He might be a little mess sometimes but his 'fun to be around' aura definitely makes up for everything

You gotta cherish this man

——————————————————————————————

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu matsuno #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu matsuno headcanons #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #kazutora-lover

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masterwords · 8 months

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Hi, I’d like to order a 32 please: A kiss while someone watches 😙

Coming right up! How about 2500 words of heart trouble that leads up to a heart-racing finish with a LOT of someones watching? Chicago retirement universe, football, sappy soft old men. This is unedited and scrappy, so please forgive glaring errors and halfway correct medical nonsense - I used to work in a coumadin clinic and with a cardiologist so I have some (probably outdated and definitely sketchy at this point) knowledge and that's about where we sit here. Forgive me for errors, I tried to remember things without trying to dive too far into research just to get them to kiss. We're in the CM universe, this is probably still closer to accurate than most of the show was. LOL (I'll put this on AO3 tomorrow. I have to go clean my house and get ready for a football game filled weekend of my own now.)

Warning ⚠️: heart problems & procedures, mention of death/implied abusive household (hotch's father)

(Send me a kiss (or LOTS of them) and I'll write you some hotchgan!)

Hotch hadn’t been to work in months. Summer vacation provided a clever cover for his ailing health, he thought. Usually he would pick up a summer course or two, just to keep busy, but it wasn’t required and this year he didn’t even consider it. His heart had begun to act funny sometime around spring break – nothing he hadn’t experienced before. Since Foyet, he’d had random periods of erratic heartbeats. Too fast, sometimes alarmingly so, but always over quickly. A few scary minutes accompanied by a seasick feeling and then back to normal. He would think about it for an hour after, sitting and waiting for the next one, for the Big One.

His father, riddled with cancer though he were, died of a heart attack right there in front of his eyes. One minute he was sitting on the couch talking, complaining about how dry his sandwich was (his mother made it without mayo, just meat and bread, because his body couldn’t tolerate the fat anymore) and then...everything stopped. His eyes went wide, his jaw went slack and he was gone. His heart just stopped, at least that’s the way Hotch remembered it. It was possible it didn’t go quite that way, he was young enough and filled with enough teenage vitriol that if he compared notes with his mother, it might look completely different. He didn’t care to find out, though. The idea that his father’s ticker just ceased to function one minute had always brought him some kind of strange comfort, scared as he was of it happening to him too. Like no matter how terrible a person he was, his clock had run out. His time was up. (Sean asked if his heart exploded, later, after the funeral. The image became ingrained in him, even now as an adult – a heart attack meant that your heart exploded gore in your chest, meat and blood everywhere. In relation to most people he hated the thought, but in relation to his father...well it seemed a fitting end.)

It came and went over the years, sometimes for days at a time, but his doctors assured him that it wasn’t anything to worry about. There were medications and treatments if it became persistent, if it didn’t reset on its own. It always did. He would worry his time was up, and then his heart would say no, not yet. You get another day, another week, another year. Just making sure you remember I’m here and I’m in charge.

But he was older now, and just before spring break as he taught a class on Criminal Law to his to his grad students, he felt his heart begin hammering in his chest faster than it ever had before. He put his hand on his chest and swallowed hard, that had always worked before somehow (maybe only by coincidence) but it only served to make him feel faint. Stubbornly, he pressed on and turning toward the white board, he looked up, squinted to read the words he’d written and grabbed for the red marker he intended to use.

The next thing he knew he was waking up on the floor with a sea of concerned faces staring down at him.

Most people could go a whole lifetime without collapsing in the middle of a presentation, yet he’d done it twice now. Where was the justice in that? The only silver lining was that this time he happened to wake back up before he was in an ambulance with an oxygen mask obscuring his face. (Just barely. The EMTs arrived just a few minutes later and he was alert enough to insist on standing with their help and walking to the ambulance rather than ride on the stretcher through the hallway of his university.)

This time, it didn’t reset on its own, not for hours.

This time Derek was called out of his classes, leaving his baseball team to the assistant coach so he could rush over and sit with Hotch while they attempted to get his heart back into a normal sinus rhythm. Even then, it was precarious. They didn’t expect it to last, not with the onslaught of concerning symptoms that brought him here in the first place. He went home with a pile of new prescriptions to try and treat it medically, all of which failed spectacularly in everything except making him feel like garbage. His least favorite was the re-introduction of blood thinners into his life. The last time he’d taken them was the months after Foyet when they feared that he was at risk of stroke due to the severity and location of his injuries, and the lasting effects those same injuries had on George Foyet himself. Hotch had argued that Foyet had stabbed himself more times, that he’d practiced, that nine was a lot less than what Foyet wore but he had taken the blood thinners dutifully then and he did now too. He suffered through weekly appointments to check his INR, make sure that everything was looking like it should, and because he had Jack and Hank and Derek looking at him like that...wondering if he was going to have a stroke...he never missed or rescheduled a single appointment even if it meant throwing his entire day into disarray. He limped himself along to the end of the year on sheer determination, refusal to cut and run before his students were finished with the courses they’d all begun together. He’d seen them this far, and if his last couple of lectures were given while he leaned heavily on the podium (or sat at his desk on one particularly bad afternoon) then so be it. They always forgave him.

As soon as school was out, he scheduled himself in for an ablation – a procedure to try and go at it from the inside. They assured him that he might feel bad for a while after while he healed, but it was likely to be the ticket. The way to get him back to feeling like himself. The way to get him off of the blood thinners.

The whole time he just felt tired. Not necessarily sick, just unable to do much of anything. His normally active lifestyle had become difficult and sometimes impossible. He and Derek would ride bikes on the weekends or run in the morning and he tried to maintain it, his doctors told him it was in his best interest to be as active as he could be, but some days were just too hard and he couldn’t keep up. No one in his family made him feel bad about it, he did that plenty on his own.

He was miserable, watching summer slip by without getting to do much more than lie in a lounge chair in the backyard and soak up whatever sun Chicago provided him with. He missed out on their usual big summer trips to wherever Savannah was working, he’d said goodbye to Derek and Hank and Jack as they flew to southern Mexico to spend two weeks with her at the ocean. He wasn’t up for the flight and knew they’d all just spend the whole time worrying about him if he went at all. He was better off at home, spending afternoons playing cards with Anthony and Fran while Cindi was at work or going to movies with Desiree and Sarah. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t enjoy himself, he just had to stay close to home because when the exhaustion hit him it hit hard.

Once he had the procedure, things would be better. He was certain. At least after the healing period which would probably make him seem worse, and for the most part, he was right. He’d still decided not to work for a while, to take the first semester of the year off. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the time built up. He probably could have worked, but he didn’t need to and he wasn’t in the habit of killing himself for his job anymore. Things were already looking up a few weeks after the procedure. His energy was slowly returning along with his appetite and his desire to get out and be part of the world. The ever present fear that he would collapse again in public started to slip back into the recesses of his mind. He wasn’t feeling good, necessarily, but he was feeling better. There was hope that he was on the upswing finally.

Occasionally he overdid it and there were setbacks, but he was being good. Taking his medication on time every day, not missing appointments, things his younger self would have deemed impossible. A luxury he didn’t have. Well, now he had it in abundance. He’d spent the day before in the backyard, getting it ready for winter while he had the energy to do it. Derek had started the job but he had no love for these tasks and would avoid them as long as he could – Hotch wanted to do it, he wanted to push his hands into the cold soil and prepare it to sleep. But being outside all day had come with an evening of exhaustion like he hadn’t had in weeks, and the next morning he could barely pull himself out of bed. His body was scolding him again. “Rest today,” Derek said, kissing him on the top of the head. “Please. For the love of everything holy, rest.”

“Yes sir.”

He did. He didn’t exactly stay in bed all day but he did take it easy. He was motivated to take it easy, he had a reason. And when Derek came out of the bedroom and saw Hotch standing near the door dressed in the highschool’s colors, bundled up with Derek’s beat up old ball cap on, he couldn’t really understand it. Not after the way he looked that morning. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Hotch asked, checking the time. Derek frowned.

“It looks like you think you’re coming to the game. BOYS HURRY UP!” The last part was shouted as Derek turned back toward the hallway, a hallmark of dad-mode. Being able to carry on two simultaneous conversations, in different pitches and intensity, without skipping a beat. Jack shouted something back and something crashed against the floor, but Derek had already turned back to Hotch.

“I am coming to your game.”

“Like hell you are. You’ve been sick all day.”

“If I can sit at home then I can sit in the stands at a football game. It’s the state championship, Derek. You guys worked your tails off to get here, I’ve hardly seen you in months. How long has it been since your school has won?”

“Thirty years. We won when I was a senior.”

“Thirty years and I’m going to miss it because I’m tired?”

“Aaron…”

“Don’t Aaron me. I’m coming to watch you coach your team to a championship.”

“DAD!” Jack called, rushing down the hallway with Hank dangling upside down from his arms giggling. He was wearing his football jersey, minus the pads, and a pair of jeans that looked about two sizes smaller than Hotch would have preferred but he supposed that was the style these days. “You’re coming?!”

“Yes, I’m coming.”

“DADDY COMES!” Hank shouted, wiggling almost to the point of Jack dropping him.

“See? It’s settled.”

Derek gave him an unconvinced, almost exasperated look but he didn’t have the time to argue, he just took the whistle that Hotch extended to him with a smile and ushered them all out to the car in the cold October evening. They were playing on the Northwestern field, and some part of Hotch was a little worried – he’d taken the semester off to recover, to try anyway, and hadn’t seen his colleagues in months. He hoped they wouldn’t pay him too much attention.

The game moved fast – the crunch of shoulder pads, the shouting of gruff coaches and screaming of fans, the bright lights catching the freezing rain as it fell to the field and whipped around in the wind. The announcer called out name after name, and he watched Jack on the sidelines in his uniform cheering his friends on, holding a towel and wiping off game balls for the referees, helping keep the team hydrated. He was hoping to make Varsity next year, but his entire Junior Varsity team was there to cheer on the big guys and Jack was working a little extra hard to make sure his contribution was noticed. He couldn’t get onto Varsity by slacking, not with his dad coaching. He had to work twice as hard. It looked to Hotch, as he squinted at the full university stadium, that the whole city of Chicago had turned out to watch these boys from the south side bring home the title.

And when it came down to a field goal, when the whole stadium held its breath and watched that ball soar through the uprights, and when Derek was jumping around like a mad man amid shoulder pads and helmets and shouting crying teenagers, Hotch stood and cheered just as loud as anyone. His heart beat faster, thumped intensely in his chest, but it felt normal. The good fast. The kind that reminded him that he was alive and his body was built for a lot more than he gave it credit for sometimes. That he might be tired tomorrow but he would never get tonight back.

Being alive sometimes meant being uncomfortable, he realized as Derek bounded up the metal stairs taking two and three at a time, as he launched himself through the bleachers until he reached Hotch at his comfortable perch and practically threw himself at the man. “WE DID IT! WE DID IT! THEY DID IT!” He was beside himself with excitement, the pride of knowing what his kids had achieved, the memory of achieving it once himself so long ago he thought he’d forgotten but it felt the same now as it did then. It made his skin prickle, shock waves that made his bones jump, his head screaming for joy. The stadium had erupted in so much noise, but Hotch even with his bad hearing managed to hear him loud and clear, and when Derek wrapped him up and kissed him hard right there he didn’t put up a fight. He found his arms sliding around Derek’s waist, pinning them both in place, and the air sucked from his lungs, the beat in his heart all but stopping now. The stadium got quiet around them, the sound sucked into a vacuum, and then slowly a new sound erupted, a different kind of cheer, led by the football players on the field hooting and hollering. Hotch peeked one eye open to see the two of them kissing on the big screen right above the scoreboard, right above the score proclaiming their victory. He smiled into the kiss and closed his eyes again as fireworks began, and he let himself believe just for a moment that those fireworks were for them.

Being alive never felt so good. “Congratulations,” he whispered against Derek’s lips. “I love you.”

“Hot damn! I love you too baby! WE WON!”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #criminal minds #jack hotchner #hank morgan #chicago times universe

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tweetsongs · 1 year

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sss-class revival hunter altered my brain chemistry (and why you should read it too)

now that it's the holiday season, may i suggest that you spend your downtime not enjoying festivities, spending time with loved ones, or relaxing your body, but instead choose to treat yourself to a good cathartic mental breakdown via the power of narrative? that's right, today i'm going to tell you why you, yes you, should read sss-class revival hunter.

what is sss-class revival hunter?

sss-class revival hunter (previously translated as sss-class suicide hunter) is a webnovel by shin noah, and is completed at 400 chapters, though translations are in-progress at 238 chapters. there is a manhwa of the same name that is also in-progress, having just completed its second season.

what is sss-class revival hunter about?

kim gongja (name literally translates as confucius) is a young hunter in a world occupied by the 'tower', a large series of dungeons that people can enter if they forsake all earthly connections in order to challenge the monsters within. in this world, he is a failure, a f-class hunter with no special abilities, capable only of bitterly envying the #1 hunter: flame emperor yoo sooha.

one day, his envy manifests into an sss-class skill, the highest possible level skill- unfortunately, there's a catch. the skill stipulates that he can steal a skill from someone, but only if they kill him. despondent, gongja gets drunk and wanders the city, only to accidentally witness a crime perpetuated by yoo sooha, who immediately murders him to ensure his silence. in death, gongja is given a choice to steal sooha's abilities, and accidentally but fortuitously chooses an ability that allows him to wake up 24 hours earlier every time he dies, allowing him to make use of the combination of his abilities. he proceeds to hatch a plan to gain revenge and challenge the tower, discovering the secrets that lie behind its seemingly random challenges along the way.

huh...this sounds pretty grimdark and edgy, i'm not sure i'll enjoy something like that...

LET ME TELL YOU MY SWEET CHILD...i ALSO thought, when first reading, that this would be an incredibly boring revenge power fantasy featuring a grimdark edgelord protagonist. however!! the entire point of sss-class revival hunter is to subvert that character trope, and it does it MASTERFULLY.

let me explain.

while, at first glance, the plot of ssscrh seems to be setting up kim gongja as your typical edgelord protagonist who doesn't need any friends or emotions, the reality is...quite the opposite. in fact, despite his initial motivations, gongja's motivations are to gain recognition through authenticity, and to help people in ways that yoo sooha never did. fundamentally, sss-class revival hunter is a story about human connection and empathy, and more often than not chooses to showcase the best of humanity through having its protagonist giving people a chance to be good.

so it's about the power of friendship?

it's more accurate to say it's about the power of understanding, but yes, friendship factors heavily into it! gongja's skill allows him to steal abilities from those who've killed him, but there's a penalty - he has to witness the 'trauma' of those people, and understand why they've come to be the way they are. as his ability grows stronger, so does his immersion, and his ability to understand his opponents.

as you might expect, this leads to a lot of rumination on the ways that people are hurt by and become twisted from the world around them, and the book goes out of its way to point out societal and structural issues that cause suffering, rather than blaming individual events. the story isn't so sappy as to excuse every person who murders him, or every villain, but does make sure to show us how multifaceted they are.

not only that, but this book also has some of the most refreshingly reasonable character dynamics i've read in a while. everyone…is reasonable? unlike in other dungeoncrawler works, most people is ssscrh actually act in believable, human ways according to their characterization. the guild alliances, in particular, are refreshing in how reasonable and willing to cooperate they are - if you're sick of random people being made into incompetent scapegoats so that the mc can make an obvious point as if it's gospel, then this book will be a breath of fresh air.

how dark does it get?

i'm not gonna lie - very dark! this book touches on not only the titular theme of suicide and death, but also other incredibly heavy themes around oppression and trauma.

in my opinion, the author is never too heavy-handed or overwrought with the heaviness of its subjects, and handles them with an impressive delicacy that shows compassion towards its subjects without making them caricatures of victimization.

above its darkness, though, ssscrh is fundamentally a story about hope in despair, and holding joy in the same hand that you hold sorrow. the dark themes are not here to titillate, but to make readers understand how difficult and profound it is that there are people in this world that have chosen happiness, despite everything. this book truly has every kind of catharsis you can imagine, and will yeet you through the equivalent of years of therapy in every volume.

okay, that sounds painful, but are there any lighter moments in the story?

oh, plenty. ssscrh is not one to wallow, and for every moment it makes you weep with the tragedy and beauty of the world, it will also make you scream with laughter at how ridiculous the characters are. i've made a post with a scene that made me cackle, and the story delights in the absurdity of the world as much as it cares for everything within it.

more than that, this story also has one of the most hilarious and incredibly strong and stable romantic relationships you will ever read about. i'm not going to spoil things, because i truly believe that this is something to be Experienced, but trust me when i say that gongja and his eventual partner made me scream with laughter and say 'oh my god you guys are INSANE' every time they have dialogue together. if you like malewife/girlboss dynamics, or time travel shenanigans, or overwrought battle couple proclamations of romance, you will ADORE this pairing.

why SHOULDN'T i read this book, then?

good question! as much as i'm obsessed with this book, i can't say that it's going to be everyone's cup of tea. some caveats are about the incredibly heavy themes being touched on, including:

child abuse

bullying

poverty

famine

religious oppression

racial discrimination

cultural genocide

mental illness

slavery

...and more!

also of note that volume 4 of the webnovel centers around the development of an ancient society of various races aided by hunters having the deeply unfortunate name of 'race war'. i will say that it's not as bad as you're imagining, and handled with, if not grace, then clear thought, but yeah. yeah that made me wince too.

is there anything else that makes sss-class revival hunter worth reading?

if you're not convinced yet, here are a few notable quotes from the book that live rent-free in my head (no context or explicit spoilers but skip if don't want anything spoiled!):

People don't just decide who they leave scars on. They also decide whose scars to wear. The common people you are trying to save will never be good. The crowd you have saved will never be honorable. The one you love will never be perfect. Even so, if you want to be hurt by everyone. If you are willing to give them your bare skin- think about how they scratch you with their fingernails, how they will hurt you even if they hug you too tightly. Life is pain, but that is only human suffering.

If you mourn so much over accidental tragedies, you should celebrate accidental blessings just as much. The depth of one's sadness should be equal to the height of one's happiness.

There's a 99% probability that the lover you meet will be a bitch [...] Similarly, you are also highly likely to be a bitch.

Cynicism isn't childish in itself, [but] people who live while being cynical are childish. Fairness is childish, but the people who live fairly are not childish.

Congratulations on becoming Cinderella, bro

anyways, please consider dedicating your holiday season to another stupid long book. you can find translations here and the manhwa here. please let me know if you've read/enjoyed it i'm losing my mind over here.

#rain's menagerie of unhinged webnovel recs #sss-class revival hunter #sss-class suicide hunter #ssscrh #ssscsh #every character is so good i didn't know where to add this but the cringefail women in this...peak #anyways as always here is an incoherent love letter to a webnovel that made me cry #webnovels #webnovel recs

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