#Skittles has the most beautiful eyes

[hubbvrd]

Can you do #15 with Joe? Maybe him asking?

summary — You show Joe photo albums from your childhood and then Joe asks you a special question about getting married and having children

pairing — joe burrow x reader

words — 1397

notes — thanks for your request! i hope you like it!!🧡

Whit a groan you drop the last photo albums on the living room table before stretching once and then dropping onto the sofa between all the cozy cushions and taking a deep breath.

You've spent the last half hour looking through all the photo albums from your childhood to look at them with Joe.

Today it's been pouring with rain for half the day, so your planned walk has fallen through and you've switched to plan B. Looking at old photo albums together.

With a not exactly small snack board in his hand, Joe joins you in the living room and takes a bemused look at the ten or so photo albums your parents have made for you.

"When you said you had a few photo albums, I didn't think there would be so many," Joe says as he squeezes the snack board with various sweets onto the table between the photo albums and then drops onto the sofa next to you.

"My parents took an incredible number of photos of me. And I think they go from when I was born until I was about ten, so until I didn't want to be photographed anymore," you start to explain to him as you lean forward a little and scan the labeled photo albums for the first album.

"That's really sweet. So I'm about to see lots of photos of you as a child," mumbles Joe enthusiastically after shoving a handful of Skittles into his mouth.

"I hope there aren't any embarrassing photos in there" you laugh slightly insecurely before reaching for the photo album with the big 1 on it.

With a smile on your lips, you snuggle into Joe's open arms before opening the photo album and the first thing you see is a page full of pictures of you and your parents in hospital.

"Oh my god. You were such a tiny baby, but so cute!" Joe starts to gush, while a big grin starts to creep onto your lips and you begin to silently thank your parents for taking all those countless photos of you and now you can show them to your boyfriend.

   

                                ˚.*ೃ

Countless "How sweet you were!" and "oh god how cute" sentences later, it has already started to dawn while you have only just reached the fourth photo album.

"And here are my absolute favorite pictures," you babble happily as you flip to the next page and various photos of you, your parents and your siblings appear on the double page of the album.

In one of the photos, your father is proposing to your mother, while your sisters, brother and you are each holding a small bouquet of carnations - your mother's favorite flowers.

In another photo, you can see your mother crying and hugging your father, while you and your siblings are beaming with joy.

In another, there is a family photo taken directly after the proposal, while your whole family looks radiantly into the camera and one of the most beautiful moments of your family was captured in this picture.

"This is by far the cutest thing I've seen today" mumbled Joe as he looked closer at the pictures, his eyes lingering a little longer on the little four-year-old y/n.

"You've said that about every other photo today" you teased, giggling, to which Joe rolled his eyes with a grin.

"I just can't help it, okay? You were such a sweet kid and this captured memory warms my heart."

You slowly close the photo album, which you place next to you on the sofa, before sitting down on Joe's lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Joe's hands slowly wander down to your hips, where they find their place and he looks at you.

"You really are the sweetest boyfriend, Joey," you say, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"That's my job," he assures you, smiling as he gently strokes your hipbone with his thumbs.

"Being a sweet boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case, my sweet friend, I'm hungry," you say jokingly.

"Well, if that's the case," he replies with a grin as he stands up and lifts you up so that he can carry you over to the adjoining kitchen, where he sets you down on the worktop and then grabs a pan.

"Then it's time for my famous Joe Pancakes," he mumbles more to himself as he starts to pick out all the ingredients he needs for his famous blueberry pancakes.

Excited and with a smile on your lips, you watch your boyfriend as he concentrates on preparing the batter and then starts making the pancakes in the pan.

Barely fifteen minutes later, you find yourself back on the sofa next to Joe with a plate full of blueberry pancakes.

And while you enjoy your pancakes, Joe flicks through the many photos of your parents' beach wedding.

Again, there are various photos of the whole family at a shoot, pictures of you and your siblings being the flower children and then a picture of you and your siblings walking hand in hand in a row to the front of your parents to bring them their rings.

From Joe's direction you keep hearing a soft "Aww", which with his full mouth sounds more like a "Maw", which makes you look over at him and giggle softly at your boyfriend.

"This is definitely my favorite album," says Joe as he closes the album and carefully places it on the table with the others.

"I love it too. I think I've looked at the photo album the most of all of them" you reply and immediately start to remember how you used to pull out the album every year on your parents' wedding day and look at it.

After you put the last bite of your pancake in your mouth, Joe takes the plate from you and puts his and your plate on the table before pulling you a little closer to him.

Automatically, you snuggle back into his warm arms, where you've spent the last few hours.

Joe's arms radiated such warmth and comfort that his arms had become your favorite place, making you want to just lie in Joe's arms.

"Would you ever want to like... get married and have kids someday?" Joe suddenly asked into the silence.

You slowly lift your head to get a better look at Joe.

You weren't expecting this question at all, so it took you a little by surprise, but you're not too surprised as you've often thought about starting a family with Joe and marrying him.

However, these two thoughts had always been so far away that your thoughts had been more or less just a kind of reverie, but now they suddenly became so real.

Since you didn't answer Joe's question directly, he suddenly gets a little nervous, so he starts playing with his hands and his eyes begin to wander nervously around the room.

"I've actually imagined it a few times. Mostly in bed at night when I can't sleep. Then I've imagined what it would be like to marry you and start a family with you," you admit honestly as you reach for Joe's hands and begin to gently stroke the back of his hand with your thumbs to take away his nervousness.

"Really? And how did you like this reverie?" Joe asked excitedly as his eyes widened.

"Really good. And I've come to the conclusion that there's nothing better than marrying you and starting a family with the love of my life." As you speak, you feel tears start to well up in your cheeks and a warm feeling begins to spread through your stomach.

Now, as you say these words and they begin to feel much more real, you know that these thoughts have always been the right thoughts and you really can't imagine anything better than being Mrs. Burrow and starting a family with Joe one day.

"With those words, you're already making me the happiest man alive, even though you're not even Mrs. Burrow yet," Joe breathes against your lips as he moves a little closer to you. "I can't wait to ask you to be my wife soon."

And three months after that conversation, Joe actually asked you to be his wife in the middle of the beach, at the same spot where your parents got married.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #nfl imagines #cincinnati bengals #nfl #nfl fic #nfl imagine #nfl fan fic

[emsgoodthinkin]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

#virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader #best friend!eddie #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x poc! reader #eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #soft!eddie munson #wet dreamz #j cole #cocky!eddie #steve harrington #modern!eddie x reader #robin buckley

[afro-hispwriter]

Don't Do That(Smut)

The Batman(2022)

Summary-you no longer can be Bruces scout now that you're pregnant, but after a few months he seems to have found a new partner which causes tension when you see how infatuated he seems to be with her but after seeing him get blown up and not returning for hours it causes you to worry

Warnings- language, bombs, murder, worried reader, insecurity, pregnancy sex, sex in a hospital, oral( f receiving), p in v, angst, breeding kink

*WILL NOT follow most events of The Batman*

w/c- 4.5k

taglist- @blue-aconite @cursedandromedablack @philiasoul @a-little-disguised @pop-rocks-and-skittles @xingqiusliegee @lana-isabelle​ @dopeqff​ 

comment or dm to join the taglist for Bruce Wayne

-

"You're so pretty."  The man touched your face and you looked away.

"Y/n you need to look at him, I need to know his name." The Batman's voice rings in your ear and you roll your eyes. You look back at the man and force a smile.

  "How much for me to spend a night with you?" He asks and places a hand on your thigh making your breath hitch. Batman had said a name but you didn't care, all you did was stand up and leave immediately.

"Stop! Y/n there's still one more!" He says in the earpiece.

"I cant do this anymore." You say and enter the bathroom. "Bruce I'm not doing it." You say and look into the mirror.

  "Just one last guy." He says and stares at you through the screen. You tug at the end of your braids and place a hand on your belly.

"Im pregnant." You say and immediately take out the contacts and earpiece.

"Wait wh-."

  You began to make your way out of the club ignoring any man or woman trying to get your attention. You grabbed your coat and shrugged it on and left the club. You hailed a cab and had them take you just a few blocks away from Wayne Manor.

"Thank you." You say and slide them a tip. You barley got a walk in before a familiar black car pulled up next to you and the window rolled down.

"Get in the car." You hear his voice.

"I need to walk."

"Y/n." He says sternly and you look at him and sigh. He stops and you open the car door and sit down. Bruce slid the cowl off and brought two fingers under your chin and tugged it. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've never sent you in there."

  "I didn't know how you would react and I know how much you needed the information."

"That doesn't matter anymore, now lets go home and talk ok." He says and leans down and kisses you.

-

You remember it vividly on why you stopped scouting for him and right now you really wished you didn't. But a pregnant woman is a huge turn off to a lot of men and the club probably would've never let you in.

  But right now, the only reason you wished you wouldn't have stopped is because you now see Bruce replaying a video of a beautiful, thin, woman in what it seems like the Iceberg Lounge.

  "She's beautiful." You say which startled Bruce he then looked you up and down to take in your attire. You were wearing an all black dress along with a coat, some diamond jewelry, and flats.

"You're not going." He says and heard the elevator ding revealing Alfred.

"Yes I am, Bruce we have to keep up with our appearances."

"Pretty." Says Alfred as he sees the screen and you nod in agreement.

"I know right." You say bluntly and Alfred catches on but Bruce just looks away.

"Mrs.Wayne is right Mr. Wayne, but at least its both of you going out and not just Mrs.Wayne this time." He says and walks closer. "And I know there is a reason you even want to go."

"The Riddler might be there." He says makes sure he has everything.

"Bruce where are your cuff links?" You ask and he looks down and shrugs "Didn't find them."

  "That can't be." Says Alfred and starts to remove his Wayne Cuff links. You take a look back at the screen and sigh.

"I'll wait by the cars." You announce and walk away.

"You better not mess that up Mr. Wayne." Bruce looked at him and shakes his head.

"I would never think of doing that." He says and starts walking away.

"Well it seems like the woman on the screen has caught your attention and your dear wife has noticed."

"She hasn't, she's just a partner, temporally. And that's all." He says and leaves Alfred down there.

Bruce makes it down to the cars to see you leaning against the wall taking deep breaths and rubbing your belly.

"You Alright?" He asks and places hand on your belly and smiled softly when the baby kicked against his hand.

"Ya, baby is kicking pretty hard." Bruce removes his hand and reaches behind you to grab the keys to the old Corvette. He opens the door for you and helped you sit down. He made his way to his own seat and began the car. The drive began and Bruce noticed how your knees were faced away from him. He knows you. You were definitely feeling something.

"Whats wrong?" He asked breaking the silence. You side eyes him and shrugged.

"Nothing." Bruce sighed and reached over to gently grab your chin and turn your face to him.

"Darling, you can tell me." You looked down at you hands.

"Am I pretty?" Bruce seemed taken a back by your question before grabbing your hand.

  "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, why would you doubt yourself?"

  "The woman on the screen back at the cave, you looked at her the same way you looked at me when we first met, and ever since this baby." You rub your belly through the fabric. "You haven't looked at me like that in a long time." You let go of his hand and went back to your previous position of looking out the window.

  Bruce couldn't find the words. Luckily they arrived at the funeral. The police were moving all the guests around, one gestured for Bruce to follow him to pull up. You both looked around, seeing all the people who supported and loved the Riddler, it was sickening almost how people support that man. Bruce placed the car in park and opened the door. He looped around and opened you and held out a hand to pull you up.

He held his arm out and you looped an arm through it. As you waited for the valet to grab the keys, the screams of the paparazzi to get you or Bruce to turn around was all that could be heard. A fancy black limo pulled up. The door opened revealing the infamous Penguin, then followed by Carmine Falcone. Bruce watched them intently, almost glaring until Carmine held his hand out and a black heeled boot steeped out. Bruce had un looped your arms and started walking towards them, leaving you there confused.

"Bruce?" You went up the steps carefully, holding onto the railing to prevent you from falling against the concrete. Just as you were about to reach him, two of Falcone's men stopped you, immediately pushing you back making you stumble. They kept a grip on your arm but it soon ceased when Bruce’s large frame came into view.

"Don't touch her." Bruce was shoving them back with all his might until Falcone himself came over.

"Hey watch it fellas, this is the royal couple of the city, along with their bun in the oven." He glances down at your belly and Bruce settles in to hold you close against his side, Falcones eyes flickered between Bruce's face and yours and chucked. "Kid you are damn lucky she has a pretty face and probably had a beautiful body before the baby." He leaned closer to Bruce and grabbed his arm, and spoke low but you could still hear him. "After that baby she's never going to be the same."

  You scoffed and pushed away from Bruce and continued up the steps. Bruce tried to grab your hand but it slipped through as you got farther away, eventually entering the building. As you went to find a seat, the feeling of having to use the bathroom came. You saw the sign pointing to the restroom and sped walked towards it. You had gotten through using the bathroom and washing your hands when screams and a loud crash was heard.

  You bolted out the door to see a car crashed into the wall. Police had their guns held up, screaming at whoever to get out of the car. Bruce stood up and began looking around for you. When he saw you, you were already on your way to him. "What happened? Are you ok?" You ask him and brush off his coat.

  "I was looking for you then this car came crashing in." Bruce seemed to check you over before turning back to the scene. "You need to go home." He watched as someone came out of the car.

Gil Colson. 

Bruce had overheard the police saying he was missing. There was a bomb strapped to his neck along with a phone in the hand. The police were starting to usher people out of the building and you gripped Bruce's arm.

"We both need to go." You saw and tug his arm but he barley moved. "Bruce!?" He glances to his side before he began walking, tugging you along with him. Once he had retrieved the car and you were settled in, he sped off. "When we get back, you go straight to the manor, and don't leave." He says sternly and seemed to push on the gas peddle a little harder. You gripped the sides of the door and breathed out.

"Ok I wont, but first please slow down and second, you have to promise me you'll come back to us." He pulled into the garage, parked, and turned off the car.

  "I always do." He placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. "And I’m sorry for what Falcone said and how back in the car I didn't say anything I-." "Bruce we can talk about it later, just go try and save that man." You pecked his lips again before opening the car door and leaving. - You had changes out of your clothing and you now sat in the huge living room watching the news intently. There was a live feed playing inside, and the only last thing that happened was your husband arriving in his suit to the scene. He and Colson seemed to just be talking, Batman trying to calm him down every time the phone rang it seems.

"What happening?" Alfred asked and took a seat beside you on the large couch and handed you a cup of tea.

  "Nothing, they're just talking... oh shit is he answering." You watched as The Batman swiped the phone and then the audio shut off but the video kept playing. It was barely a minute later when the blast that made your husband get thrown back happened. You felt your heart stop, the feed had cut and it was back to a reporter.

  "Mrs. Wayne, you need to stay calm." Alfred tried to console you but all you did was stand up.

"I'll be down in the cave." You took your tea and walked away. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes and when you reached the elevator you struggled not to slide down the metal wall and cry. When the elevators opened to reveal the cave you slowly made your way to the chair. His big bomber jacket was resting on a table and you grabbed it and slipped it over your body. You dug your nose into the fabric and inhaled the scent. "Bruce Wayne you better not be dead." You sat down in the chair and typed away to call him. "Pick up please."

Nothing.

You must've called a hundred more times before you slowly drifted off. You hear heavy familiar breathing in your sleep, and it just got closer and closer. Your head shot up and you looked in that direction.

  "Bruce?" You stood up from the chair and took a step back. A dark tall figure appears and you sigh in relief when you see who it was but then groan. He stops running and places his hands on his knees. He looked up to see your belly right in his face and he smiled. He slowly stood up and just as he got to full height he felt a sting to his cheek. "Where the fuck were you?!"

  "I deserved that, but shit, I’m sorry I was at the station after the explosion." "I called you, and you never answered." You brought your hand up to his and to the back of his neck to unbuckle the cowl.

  "I was knocked out then I had got shot at by the police-."

"Where's your cape?"

"I flew and... hit a bridge." His words shocked you immediately started dragging him to a chair.

  "Bruce Wayne you need to be more careful ." You say and you slowly start helping him removing his suit.

  "I don't care what happens to me." He says and leans his forehead against your belly. You roll your eyes and sighed, you then grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him up to look at you.

  "I care about what happens to you." You say and kiss his lips. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died."

  "You're strong, you could have done it." He mumbles and brings his hands to his eyes and takes out the contacts.

"Hey, you're not working right now." You tug on his shoulder but he shakes his head.

  "I need to go through what happened tonight." He says without taking his eyes away from the screen.

  "Now." You said sternly this time and Bruce looked to his side. He knows better than to argue with you. He let you drag him away from the screen and to the elevator. "You need to shower." All he did was nod and lean against the wall. Once you made it to the room he went into the bathroom. Once the shower turned on you heard the shower door open and you laid down in bed. You must've dosed off because when you opened your eyes Bruce had an arm under you and a hand on your belly.

  -

You woke up to the sudden urge to pee. You expected to feel Bruce beside you but he wasn't there making you groan in annoyance. You did your business and walked out of the room to the living area. Alfred was sorting through the mail and when he saw you approach he smiled.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping Mrs.Wayne?" He asks and looks at you over his glasses.

  "My stupid husband left, again Alfred." You pulled a chair and sat down and rested your head in your hands.

  "Well me and you both know how he gets."

  "I know, I just wished he'd take it easy for a bit." You say and lean back against the chair.

  "You and me both." Says Alfred and picks up a card and examines it.

  "Who's that from?"

  "I’m not sure." He took off his glasses and you watched his face drop along with the card.

Time seemed to move in slow motion after that. Alfred screamed your name as he launched over to you pulled out of the chair and shoved you back. Seconds later you saw red flames that pushed you farther back. It was all black after that.

-

"Dory, I need to speak with Alfred, something terrible is going to happen!"

  "Oh Mr. Wayne, I’m afraid it already had." At her words Bruce's world seemed to come falling down. All he could think about is if Alfred was ok or you. He shouldn't have left, but the bat symbol appears in the sky and with everything going on, he had to go.

But he knew you were fine. You were sleeping two floors up. You were safe. Right?

-

"Mr. Wayne your wife was thrown back by the blast but from what I saw she had no major physical injuries but they took her to the hospital due to all the smoke she inhaled and to make sure the baby is ok, as for your butler he sustained more extreme injuries." Bruce was shaking, tears we're escaping his eyes, and his fists were clenched.

  "Can I leave now, I need to be with them." The police hadn't left him leave, they asked hundreds of questions before they would even tell him what happened to you and Alfred.

"Yes you may, but one last thing, the person who did this left this note card." The police showed him a green envelope. To the Batman

Inside was another riddle but Bruce could care less about it.

  "Any idea why this would be sent to you."

  "No, Can I leave to be with my family please." Bruce swallowed harshly and tried to prevent the glare that was about to he shown to all the police.

  "Yes sorry." Bruce turned around and left. He made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. He packed a bag a clothes and other essentials for you and going to Alfreds room to grab some for him. He left the tower in a hurry and sped off to the hospital. When he arrived the front desk lady took a look at him and immediately told him the room number and floor.

"Oh Mr. Wayne, 5th floor Maternity, room 227." Bruce didn't even say thank you as he passed her. The elevator went up quick and he reached the 5th floor. He walked quickly through the halls until he saw the room. He didn't even knock as he practically busted through the door.

  You jumped when the door slammed open. You watched Bruce drop the bags, shut the door, and immediately walk towards you.

"Baby." He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you. "Im so sorry I- are you ok?"

  "Where were you?" You moved your face out of his hands and glared at him. "With your 'partner'?"

"What? No, darling I-."

"Is she better than me? Is that it?"

  "I wasn't with her, I was with Gordon. And nobody is better than you, Jesus." Bruce then dropped to his knees in front of you and place his hand on your hips and squeezes. "You're so beautiful." He started kissing up your legs. "The most beautiful girl in the world." Kiss. "My wife." "Kiss. "Mother of my child." Kiss. "My one and true partner." Bruce started to lift the hospital gown up your thighs and kissed them again.

  He looked up at you and saw tears in your eyes.

"Im sorry I just don't feel like myself anymore." You started to cry but Bruce shook his head. "Don't apologize, I should've been a better husband, should've stood up for you back at the funeral against Falcone, should've reassured you nothing was going on between me and Selina."

"She even has a pretty name."

  "Baby." He raised his eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes.

"Ok ok sorry." You both looked at each other. You brought a hand up to Bruce's hair and slowly tugged. You knew it wasn't the time and you both knew it but it wasn't about to stop either of you.

"What’s wrong Darling? You need me?" You nodded and whimpered. "Lets see." He pulled up the hospital gown all the way up your thighs and licks his lips at the sight. "No panties?"

  "They didn't give me any." You say and felt your clit throb.

  "Glad they didn't." Bruce lowered his head in between your thighs and started to inch closer and closer with his lips. He then dragged a hand from your hip to your pussy lips and started to feel around. "So wet." You slowly let yourself lay back on the hospital bed and take in a deep breath.

"Are we about to have sex in a hospital?" You ask him and he shrugs. "We could always wait until we get home." You then shook your head and grabbed at his hair to being him closer.

"Please, please don't, I need you."

"Who am I to deny my wife?" Bruce then kissed your clit and wrapped his lips around it. You gasped and tugged at his hair and the sheets. He then stuck his tongue out to tease your hole and swirled it around. He released your clit then brought a hand down to your hole and slipped It in. you gasped loudly and arched you back. "So sensitive." he started to thrust his finger harder and faster out of your hole, he slipped in another finger and curled them up.

  "Bruce! Please make me cum."

"Ok sweet girl." He brought his thumb over your clit and started making circles, his fingers went faster and harsher and your moans got louder.

"Oh right there." You slapped a hand over your mouth as you clenched around his fingers and wet his face. You grinded yourself back on his fingers as he kept moving them back and forth. He pulled the fingers out and raised himself on his knees and smirked at you.

  "You ok?" He asks and you nod. He stood up and watched you chest moth up and down and how your face twisted as all the pleasure wore off, so he thought. "I want more." you say and Bruce leans over your body.

"What do you want? Hmm? Tell me."

"Your cock." You say and raise a hand to the forming tent in his pants and gripped it softly making him groan. You sat back up and slowly reached up to his zipper and button and undid them. You scooted farther to the edge of the bed to pull down his pants but Bruce stopped you.

  "Not tonight." He says and slowly and gently pushes you back down on the bed. he grabs the bottom of your knees and pulls your crotch against his. He pushed his pants just under his butt and pushed his boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. His tip was leaking precum, he passed his thumb along it and wraps his fist around it and started jerking his wrist. He brought the tip to your folds and pushed in-between them, coating himself with your juices. He wrapped your legs around his waist and raised his right knee onto the bed next to your hips. "You ready?" he swirled his cock on your hole and only let the head enter making you moan.

"Yes, please give it to-" Bruce pushed in to the hilt and held himself there. Your face twisted as you felt him throb inside of you.

"Fuck." He leaned down and took your lips with his. He held your hips tightly, trying not to thrust in any deeper. You took in a deep breath and felt pleasure run through your body.

"Move." You say and reach up to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He brought his hips back and pushed in harder. You dug your nails into his back making him groan at the pain. He raised your legs higher making the back of your thighs hit his own.

  "So beautiful." He says and lays down on top of you but kept his weight off of your belly. he pushed you body higher up with his hips to get more comfortable. He started slamming inside of you, his balls slapping against your pussy. You struggled to not scream his name or moan to loud. His cock was so deep, he was hitting your cervix, it was almost painful.

"Bruce I'm about to cum again." Bruce kissed the side of your face and slammed even harder.

  "Go ahead, cum around my cock." His pubic hairs brushed along your clit stimulating you even more. You gasped as you came, you scratched at his back and bit his shoulder to suppress your screams, he then grabbed your locs and tugged them back. "Such a good girl, now take me so I can  cum inside of you." He gripped your waist and straightened his back out.

"Use me baby, go ahead." You say and grip the bed sheets. Bruce's hair stuck to his forehead, his groans were deep and low.

  "So fucking tight and sexy." He says and moans as he feels you tighten around him. He looked down at your belly that was covered by the hospital gown and pushed up the fabric. at seeing your belly his cock twitched. "Fuck if I could, I would get you pregnant again." He leaned down and kissed your belly softly. "Gonna cum inside your pussy." His thrusts got sloppier and you felt your head lolling side to side with each thrust. "Going all stupid darling?" Bruce slammed his cock to the hilt and emptied himself inside, his warm cum coating your walls, and the head of his cock triggered another orgasam out of you. Your body jerked multiple times and Bruce watched.

He pulled out gently and tucked himself back in his pants, then sat down on the bed and grabbed your arms and tugged you onto his lap. You dug your face into his neck and let your breath calm down.

"Did I go to hard?" He asks but you shake your head.

"No. I really needed that, I think we both did. Can we go home now?" You look at him and he nods,

"Lets get you checked out and we still need to check on Alfred." He says and you slide off his lap and he stand up to go to the door.

"He saved me you know? Pushed me out of the way." You say and Bruce stops in his tracks.

  "I'm glad he did, because then I probably wouldn't have been able to tell you how much I love you." he walks back to you, grabbing and handing you the bag he brought with him. "I love you so much, I'm going to do better and show you my love everyday until I take my last breath, and god I cant wait for our baby." You smiled at his words and placed a hand on his cheek.

"I love you too Bruce Wayne, and this little one we're creating me, well more me than you but you understand." You chuckled and so did Bruce, which is a rare occasion. Bruce leaned down and kissed you deeply, he tried to push his tongue in but you backed away and smirked. "Bruce, we should go find out about Alfred." Bruce nodded and backed away and just as he was about to reach the door he turned back to look at you.

"You think they heard?" He asks and gestures to the people outside.

Oh they definitely did."

-

a/n- not proofread and will probably never be proofread

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x black!reader #x black reader #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #the batman #the batman 2022

[moonyssmommyy]

My Marauders Headcanons Pt. 8 ~ Dorcas Adraina Meadowes

LOOOVES blackberries

Has the most beautiful hazel eyes

Her favorite color is green

Specifically olive green but she loves all shades

Her fav smell is wet earth

Would like to be a fashion designer

Seriously obsessed with shoes

They're her go to gift for any occasion

Because 'you can never have too many shoes'

Has a pair of Doc Martens and they're her pride and joy

Thinks everybody should have a pair so they're the first pair of shoes she gifts someone

Dorcas got Marlene a pair of Doc Martens for Christmas when they first started dating so they could match

They're Marlene's fav now

One of Slughorn's favorites

Loves mythology

Whether it's Roman, Greek, or any other kind she loves it

Dorcas snorts when she laughs

Is really fucking smart

Loves bats

Unapologetically fierce

RBF

Killer death stare

Can go from 0-100 real quick

Loves reptiles

She has a pet snake and she loves her more than life itself

She scares Evan with her all the time despite the fact he SWEARS he's not scared of snakes (he's terrified)

Speaking of Evan he's probably closest with Dorcas out of all the Skittles

Gets along with guys more often than girls so there's always some dating scandal surrounding Dorcas

She's actually a lesbian

She's always known that and hasn't ever had any interest in guys

Literally Disgust from Inside Out (iykyk)

Aesthetic is dark cottagecore

Also surprisingly close with Barty despite the fact that he annoys the living shit out of her

Will run her fingers through his hair while she reads

Barty always falls asleep

#dorcas meadowes #dorcas meadowes headcanons #marauders #marauders headcanons #harry potter #marlene mckinnon #marauders era #horace slughorn #slytherin headcanons #harry potter headcanons #marlene marie mckinnon #professor slughorn #dorlene #dorcas and evan #slytherin skittles #marauders era girls #marauders era slytherins #lesbian dorcas #lesbian marlene

[shouldershimmycity]

Skittles in Vodka (Rooster x Reader)

Almost a decade ago, Rooster ended up stranded in the desert. Thankfully an Army caravan was around to pick him up, and there he met the woman he loved. Unfortunately, he never got her name. Now a certain candy drink reminds him of her.

TW: Drinking, hangover (no description of yuck), slight suggestive line but no smut.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this, I made it from his POV so it's not a traditional x reader. I thought about it a while ago and I thought it was cute. :)

*****

Being a naval aviator was a struggle in many departments. Home life if you had it was hard, family life was also a major struggle, and your love life was pretty much non-existent. It always seemed like the perfect person had to fill that position next to a service member. Almost always, it never turned out to be the sure thing. At least that was the deal with Bradley.

It was these kinds of thoughts and another failed month-old relationship that brought Rooster back to the ABC store. He was not an alcoholic, no, but he was a human being who had a hard day. He was also the man that his teammates made fun of him for purchasing straight vodka and skittles, and sticking the skittles into the vodka. Although he had been teased for it being a “feminine” drink, the same people who gave him shit for it would never admit to him that it was actually delicious. 

When asked about the drink, Rooster would keep the long explanation to himself. The only time anyone has been able to crack the answer out of him is when he was too drunk off the skittles concoction to really care about the personal nature or length of the story. It was the same every time.

When Rooster was away on a deployment almost ten years ago, there was a malfunction with his plane and he ended up in a no fly zone. His aircraft went down and he was forced to eject. Ending up essentially in the middle of nowhere, he was thankful that a caravan of Army soldiers found him, since search and rescue couldn’t. One of the soldiers he met was a woman who he got along well with, and she had mentioned the skittles drink to him that night on their way to Arifjan, in Kuwait. Then he would get quiet and mumble something or other, but the look in his eyes was heartbroken. His teammates would ask about the drink, but they never dared to ask any further about her. 

Not until he met Hangman, who never really cared about boundaries when applied to teasing others. One of those rare nights, when Bradshaw was drunk on the sugary mixture, he had explained the drink upon being asked, and trailed off as was tradition. 

“So what happened to the chick?” Hangman had asked what everyone had been turning over in their minds for a while now. Rooster looked so sad when he talked about it, what could have happened to her? 

Rooster looked up at Hangman, his eyes glazed, and gave Hangman a big old shrug of the shoulders. 

“Don’t know, she never was able to tell me her name. She told me not to share mine either, sad really,” Rooster slurred, “swear I was gonna marry her,” he whispered, and had just stared at the empty glasses in front of him. 

“She never told you her name?” Bob asked, curious now. It was another one of those nights, many years later.

“Yeah, she couldn’t because we were on the ground, it was to protect information,” the liquor was heavy in his voice, “She said to me, ‘My name is Mary Trenton,’ and I asked her if that was her real name and she said no.” The laugh that had bubbled from the woman’s lips had played back in Rooster’s mind when he had shared his callsign with her. 

‘If you’re Rooster, then I’ll be Chicken,’ she had snorted. She didn’t mean it in a malicious way, and that's what had made him smile so wide. 

“The only thing I know is that she was my age, and that she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life,” Bradley sighed, putting his head down on the tabletop and closing his eyes. 

“Mary…” he thought, before slipping into unconsciousness. 

***** 

Several alarms were going off, blaring at Rooster. He had lost control on the radio, and had no idea where he was. The next thing he knew, he was forced to eject. Now, he was wandering in the desert, searching for some place where maybe he would be able to get a map. Y’know… civil civilization? It was almost three in the afternoon, and while the sun was less intense than it had been around noon, it was still incredibly unpleasant. 

Praying that he was going in the correct direction, Rooster stumbled through the bright landscape for upwards of an hour. When he looked to his left, he saw the humvees and the cargo vehicles on the horizon. Stumbling towards the caravan, he eventually fell to his knees waiting for whoever it was. 

No markings, no badges, no names to tell him anything, and praying they were American, the caravan came to a halt before passing by him. Several people climbed off the first vehicle, each one carrying an AR-15, and Bradley threw his hands up. They all had their faces covered by camouflage linens, to keep the sun off their skin. While it was smart to keep the sun out, it did very little for Rooster’s sense of safety.

“Who are you? No names,” the shortest one demanded, and he explained what had happened, panicking. They were American, thank God. One of the five people surrounding Bradley had departed back to the vehicle, shouting something to someone else within. When he returned, the shortest soldier looked in his direction.

“He’s the pilot,” he nodded, removing his covering to talk to Rooster more directly. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his late forties.

“Rooster,” Bradley offered, taking the hand that was extended to him to stand.

“You were in a no fly zone, son,” the man said, explaining what had happened to Rooster, who wrinkled his eyebrows together. No wonder search and rescue had never shown up for him. He assumed they had sent out a message if these people knew who he was.

“My navigation malfunctioned, that’s probably why,” he sighed. 

“Well, we’re on our way to Arifjan in Kuwait,” a feminine voice came through the face cover of the short one, which confirmed Bradley’s suspicion that it was a woman. She wasn’t too much shorter than the rest of them, but she was short enough for him to notice it. 

“You can come with us, and your ride can pick you up there,” she finished, gesturing for him to follow her. 

They entered a truck, three down from the first, and Bradley was incredibly thankful for the shade. When he was handed a water bottle, he almost cried tears of joy. Although he probably was so dehydrated there would not have been any to shed. He almost spit out the cool water in his mouth when the woman removed her face covering. 

She was perfect, and without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Despite being sweaty and in the middle of the desert, she looked amazing. Her eyes were the kind that warmed your soul like hearty food after the snow. When she smiled at him, he almost melted into a puddle on the ground. It was the Middle East in July, he might just.

“Do you normally stare at women you’ve just met?” she teased him, her voice raised over the noise of the engine.

“Only ones as beautiful as you,” he flirted shamelessly, shrugging his shoulders and smiling right back at her. 

“What’s with the name, Rooster?” she asked. 

“God, she’s way too pretty to be real,” he thought.

“It’s my callsign,” he explained, and she made a cute little face like no duh, “I got it in flight school, I guess I’m not the best at acting fast or something like that,” he mused. He used to hate it, but he preferred to have the name over flying unsafe. He wanted to stay alive, and he didn’t care if he got a dumb nickname for it.

She nodded, acknowledging Rooster’s honesty.

“You got a name you can tell me?” he asked, scrunching his face up in hope that there was something he could get out of her. 

“Mary Trenton,” she stated, but the way it came off her tongue told Rooster it wasn’t anywhere close to something on her birth certificate. It didn’t fit her, and she didn’t look right saying it.

“Is that your real name?” he asked her, knowing the answer.

“No,” she laughed, and it filled Rooster with that warmth again that he hoped was not actually heat stroke. He nodded, acknowledging that he wouldn’t be able to know it. Maybe when they got to their destination he would be rewarded. Leaning forward, she flicked her fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, and Rooster obliged. 

“If you’re Rooster, then I’ll be Chicken,” she snorted, and Rooster laughed out loud.

*****

The next morning, Rooster always regretted the drink. He was a big man, but what amounted to straight vodka always did him in. 

Leaning against the bathtub, he sat next to the toilet. One hand was lazily wrapped in his hair, and his other arm was sitting on the toilet seat. At this point, he didn’t think he had anything left to give the porcelain bowl. The drink definitely did its job, that was for damn sure. It was delicious, but at what cost? Bradley closed his eyes, thinking of the first time he had heard of the damn thing.

*****

Rooster’s face was scrunched up in disgust, while “Mary” stared at him in disbelief. His stomach turned slightly at their conversation. 

“Have you ever even tried it before?!” she demanded.

“No! What would possess someone to dump a bag of skittles into VODKA?!” Rooster gagged. Mary smirked and poked her fork at him, shredded beef from an MRE stuck onto the end of it. 

“Hey now, don’t knock it until you try it!” she declared, this was the hill she was apparently willing to die on. Rooster shook his head, picking through his own MRE.

The caravan was not going to make it to Arifjan until the end of the day tomorrow, so around seven in the evening, they had stopped to set up camp. Mary had brought Bradley over to a tent, where she had passed him a spare sleeping mat. The pair were now sitting a few yards away from the tent, finishing their luxurious meal. 

“So, uh… you have a family?” he asked her, and she nodded, still trying to work her way through the last scraps of the meal. When she was done chewing she answered him.

“I have two sisters, one is going to school to be a fashion designer and the other is a concert pianist,” she looked down at the meal, in a way that wasn’t quite bitter but wasn’t angry either, “Ma always thought women should do things that were… more delicate. She tried everything to get me out, including giving MEPs false disqualifying information, insulting my superiors…” Bradley nodded.

“I got a guy like that, he actually pulled my papers from the naval academy,” he confessed, and Mary frowned in disapproval. Silence filled the space between the two of them as she played with the question in her head, debating whether or not she wanted to ask him. Her curiosity won out.

“How long have you been alone, Roos?” she asked him gently, almost too quietly. He looked at her in surprise.

“How do you know I’m alone?” he inquired.

“The way you posed your question, and the way you talk about people you know,” she confessed to him quietly, “you asked if I had a family, unless I’m wrong but you didn’t ask me to tell you about my family. Like a family is something foreign to you. The way you asked tells me you don’t.” Bradley’s face was sad, but he wasn’t upset. She had hit the nail right on the head, and he was just surprised. 

“My dad died when I was little, and my mom died when I was in high school. The guy I was telling you about was my uncle,” he explained, and Mary nodded. The silence was back and it stuck around for a while longer this time.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she apologized, and Rooster shook his head.

“You’re alright,” he reassured, “I just wasn’t expecting that, I guess.”

The sun had already gone down, and lamps that were lit around the small camp were slowly being put out as lights out was called. Mary and Rooster stood up and disposed of their garbage, making their way into the tent for the night. 

Rooster, having no extra clothes besides his current flight suit, was tossed an extra pair of OCP pants by one of the men in the tent. He noticed Mary peeking over at his arms while he changed, and made a show of subtly flexing them for her. It was ridiculous, he had to admit, but she appreciated it. She kept her pants on but removed her top to reveal an issued sports bra underneath it all, which Rooster appreciated right back. 

They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, but that didn’t stop them from staying up for a little longer. They spoke just quiet enough that they could hear, but it would not disturb the others in the tent. 

“Do you talk to your mom?” Rooster whispered to her, and she shook her head. 

“Not all that much. Occasionally, I’ll be on the phone with one of my sisters and she’ll insist that she wants to say hello. Then she’ll immediately ask me if I’m married and pregnant yet,” Mary snorted. Bradley tilted his head, curious about her reaction, and she continued to answer his unvocalized question, “I want kids, but that’s all she’s concerned about. I’m busy doing other things,” she shrugged.

“What’s your favorite song, Mary?” he asked her quietly, and she took a moment to consider the question. 

“I love Elvis,” she began, “I love Pink Floyd, and The Eagles,” she looked over at him, her eyes were so beautiful in the dim light.

“Those are bands,” Rooster stated, and she smiled.

“I can’t pick one song, so I’ll give you a wide variety,” her breathy laugh made his heart soar, “I will say I was obsessed with Great Balls of Fire when I was a kid,” she admitted. Rooster eagerly propped himself up on his forearms and he leaned in close to her, excitedly. 

“My dad used to play that all the time when I was a kid! I can play that on the piano!” he laughed, excited for someone else to finally get it.

“No way,” she giggled, covering her face with her hands, and then bringing her index finger to her lip in a silent shush. It was more for her than for Bradley. 

The realization hit Rooster like a ton of bricks that he didn’t want to let her go tomorrow. He was in the middle of fucking nowhere and he felt like he was at home, warm in his bed. He wanted to get to know her better, could they consider this a first date? He didn’t know. But seeing her like that, giggly, slightly sweaty, and beaming at him, he knew he was in trouble. He was falling in love with a woman that he didn’t even know.

Shit. 

“Mary,” Rooster cleared his throat quietly, and she gave him her full attention, “Tomorrow.. Whe–”

“Lights out, Navy,” one of the other men in the tent cut Bradley off, and Mary glared at him from her mat. She turned back to him, and sighed.

“We have to go to bed, Roos,” she apologized, reaching for the lamp, “can you tell me tomorrow?” her doey eyes looked at him through the dim light, and he could only nod his head. The lamp went out, and the tent was now dark.

“Night, Rooster,” Mary whispered, rolling over away from him.

“Goodnight, Chicken,” Bradley whispered back, smirking into the darkness and Mary smiled back at the void.

*****

Bradley pressed the green button on his cellphone to stop that god awful ringing noise. He brought the phone up to his ear, turning the volume down as he did. 

“Hello?” he croaked, still in his position next to the toilet. He didn’t even look to see who had called him in all honesty. 

“So Bagman wasn’t lying, it was a skittles and vodka night?” Phoenix’s voice rang out through the other end of the phone. Rooster groaned in response, which was answer enough. 

“Do you want me to stop at the laundry place for you and I’ll grab you a coffee and something?” she asked and two things crossed Bradley’s mind. 

God bless you Natasha Trace.

Oh shit, I forgot.

Tonight was a work function and dress uniforms were required. He wished he had remembered before getting piss drunk last night. 

“You’re a saint,” he moaned, gripping the toilet seat when his stomach flipped once more. After a quick thank you, Bradley hung up the phone, and was becoming reacquainted with what little was left in his stomach. 

*****

“What’s it like up there?” Mary asked Rooster. They were back on the road, and had been passing the time by chatting, just as they had been the night before. Rooster decided that he would wait to ask Mary personal information until they arrived in a secure space. It gave him time to think about what he wanted to say anyway, what exactly he wanted to know.

“In the sky?” he clarified, and she nodded.

“I wanted to go into aviation when I was a kid, but I never had the experience to help me get there,” she shrugged and he smiled. 

“It’s pretty great,” he confirmed, “All that bullshit you hear in movies about how you feel at home and once you go up you never come down isn’t bullshit.” He flashed a grin at Mary, who mirrored him. “I’ll have to take you one time,” he offered, and she made a show of nodding and considering his offer. 

“Perhaps,” she agreed, then an evil look came about her face.

“What?” Rooster hesitantly asked, slightly afraid to do so.

“I’ll let you take me for a ride if you try the skittles,” she laid the deal out in front of him. Bradley bit his lip to stop from making a dirty joke. He wasn’t trying to degrade, but it was one of those things that he would personally find funny if it was any other person. Did she mean to phrase it like that? He had no idea.

“Deal,” he agreed, putting his hand out. She shook his hand, her gloves preventing him from feeling the soft skin underneath. He didn’t know if her skin was soft, but he imagined it would be. 

At this point in time, they were a few hours from Arifjan, and Bradley was squirming in his seat with nerves. He was nervous to ask her all the things he wanted to, but couldn't. He was also nervous for the inevitable ass reaming he was about to get from his superiors when he returned. 

He didn’t care right now, he wasn’t worried, and he was perfectly comfortable where he was. At least he tried to tell himself that. Rooster was always so smooth, and here he was trying not to have a meltdown for fear of rejection in the middle of the desert. 

*****

Music filled the hall, and nearly identical dress uniforms flowed throughout the room as people mingled. A few other uniforms stood out, as members from the Air Force and Marines had joined in as well. A few Army greens made Rooster’s heart jump. Chatter mixed with the echo of the hall, and Bradley was thankful he took the painkillers when he did. 

He was staring off into space when the word ‘skittles’ brought him back to the group conversation. Everyone was looking at him now, and he had no idea what was going on. 

“What?” he asked, looking at everyones expectant faces. 

“I was telling Shannon about your skittles girl,” Hangman said nonchalantly, and his date's giggle filled Rooster’s head. 

Rooster couldn’t explain why he felt as angry as he did, but it was something about the way Hangman said it that made him feel like he was about to explode. It wasn’t his story to share. She wasn’t ‘skittles girl’ she was Mary. It wasn’t funny either. 

“Personally, I don’t think she even exists,” Seresin laughed, and that did it for Rooster. He turned abruptly and walked away from the group, neglecting to make a scene in front of a lady and his superiors. 

Bradley pushed through the doors and in the open air he could take a breath. A few voices asked him if he was okay, and he ignored them until he could hear over the roar in his ears. 

“Bradshaw?” Phoenix was behind him, and Bob and his date stood by the door. 

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, staring out over the dark water below.

“Listen,” she began, “I see what this girl has done to you, and it hurts me to see this.”

Rooster ignored the tears that began to burn his eyes, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He refused to turn and look at her.

“Have you ever tried to find her?” Bob questioned, and Rooster gripped the railing harder.

“All I have is a fake name and an alcohol recipe, Bob,” he stated flatly. He wasn’t trying to be mean, but he was beyond upset. Frustrated.

“My roommate’s friend used to make vodka skittles,” Bob’s date piped up quietly, and Rooster whipped around to look at her. Her eyes were wide with surprise as he started firing questions at her. When she began to describe her like Rooster had asked, his shoulders slumped; she looked totally different. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his head now pounding once more.

“I’d love to find her, guys. But the fact is that I have no information,” he almost growled, and Phoenix nodded sadly, “I’m sorry, thank you for your help,” he ended the conversation, walking away from the group and into the garden. 

*****

Arifjan was alive, the caravan pulled through the gate and made its way to its own residence on camp. When the vehicles came to a complete stop, Mary and Rooster stepped out into the bright sun. Voices shouted orders for unloading and parking and Mary grabbed several things from the truck. 

“Can I help with anything?” Rooster offered, and Mary shook her head.

“I think I’m good, but you might want to prepare yourself for what’s behind you,” Mary grimaced. Rooster turned to see one of his superiors making his way over to him, and he glanced back at Mary who looked concerned for him. 

“I’ll be here,” she promised him, carrying a tan toolbox away and leaving him to his business. Rooster stiffened up and greeted the man who was most likely about to spend the next few hours giving him hell.

*****

Bradley had gotten a stern talking to, to say the least, and had to fill out a mountain of paperwork before he was free to move about the camp again. While he was checking off boxes and signing his name, he thought about what he would say to Mary. The pen slipped out of his hand a few times from his palms sweating. He was whipped and he knew it. 

Practically bouncing in his seat, when he signed his name on the last page he sprung out of the seat. Just as he stood, the door opened and his ‘handler’ as Rooster had deemed him, walked in. 

“Bradshaw, make your way out to the tarmac immediately,” he instructed, “there’s a dust storm incoming and we have to be out of here within the next thirty minutes.”

Every ounce of energy was drained from Rooster in that short string of words. He wasn’t ready to go, he wanted to talk to Mary first.  Feeling like a child who didn’t want to leave their friend’s house, he nodded curtly and quickly made his way outside. Cool air turned into searing heat as he stepped outside, jogging to her last known location. 

“I’ll be here.”

“Mary!” he shouted, and he didn’t care if other service members stared at him. His feet pounded on the ground as he ran out to the trucks. The sun disappeared from his vision as he entered the massive garage.

“Mary!” his voice was strained and frantic. People were judging him now, and he was starting to panic. Rooster was frustrated at all of the people staring at him, did they not know who he was looking fo– 

Of course. There was no Mary. Where was she? He had to talk to her. 

Feet echoing on the ground, he was getting out of breath as he ran throughout the facility that housed the trucks. Hands started to shake.

“Mary!” his voice echoed, distress lacing the name. 

Someone was yelling at him now, telling him to get out. Muttering to himself, Bradley took one last desperate look around, hoping to make eye contact with her. There was no sign of her. He felt like he was being crushed by a giant, like it had him in his grip crushing his bones and removing all the air from his lungs. 

“No,” he murmured, “No no..”

When he finally looked into the eyes of the man ordering him to leave, the gravity of the situation finally hit him. Rooster turned around, now jogging out of the building. He looked everywhere he could manage before he arrived at the tarmac. He didn’t get to say goodbye, and he didn’t have her name, or a phone number, anything. Now he had to go. The Black Hawk crew was asking him to get in, and he could no longer ignore them.

Breathing heavily, tears threatened to spill over his eyes when he stepped into the helicopter, wiping them before anyone else could see, blaming it on the dust in the air.

*****

Despite his frustration at the event, he had taken Bob’s advice and tried to find her. He knew he couldn’t use her name, it wasn’t real. He looked up anything he could, he talked to buddies he had in the army, but they had no idea who she was. By the time Bradley had exhausted all options, he was sure half the US Military knew he was looking for her.

Bob and Phoenix even got involved, but were just as successful as Bradley. One day Maverick found them all discussing it, and Rooster was forced to explain everything to him. The Captain thought it was cute, and offered his help, wanting his kid to be happy. At that point everyone had pretty much given up, though.

While Rooster watched his friends play pool at the Hard Deck he thought about it long and hard. By now she had to be married with children, maybe even retired, who knows. Maybe he had to let it go.

He unplugged the Jukebox, and he thought about the way she had laughed when she admitted that she loved Great Balls of Fire. He would turn and wink at other women, maybe he would flirt a little but despite the resignation to reality, it never went further than that. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Before now, he had been in relationships, but it had always felt wrong.

That’s why he ultimately ignores the woman who sits next to him at the piano while he plays, it’s not her and could never be her. She slides up next to him while everyone sings at the top of their lungs. She’s the opposite of her in every way. He doesn’t want to touch her, and he’s deeply self conscious of her presence when he clinks out the final notes of the song. He looks over at Phoenix and Bob, who are howling, and Mav who is smirking at Bradley triumphantly. Keeping his back to the woman, he stands to walk over to Maverick. 

“No more skittles?” the older man teases, and Bradley shakes his head. The jukebox has been plugged back in and the usual chatter has resumed. Pete shrugged and smiled at Bradley, what are you gonna do? 

“No, it was good while it lasted,” Rooster trailed off sadly, his expression one of acceptance. He had to let it go, deciding he was never going to see her again anyway. He tapped the bar top and turned to go back to the pool table.

Those eyes.

There she was, right in front of him. She hadn’t aged a day. When shock filled Rooster’s face, her smile still lit up her face like it had in the dim light of the tent almost a decade ago. Her hair was down, framing her face, and her eyes sparkled like champagne. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob and Phoenix watching the interaction, confused.

“It’s you,” Rooster barely whispered, and her smile only grew, fueled by his existence in front of her.

“Rooster,” she said, her voice cracking with the same emotion he felt. Despite the break, it sounded like the most beautiful music to him. He couldn’t help himself, and he wrapped her into a hug that she gladly returned. She smelled like the ocean and like the flowers that used to grow outside his mom's house. She was warm under his touch, and he loved the feeling of her finally in his arms. He was slightly afraid that if he let her go she wouldn’t actually be there, and she would slip through his fingers like sand. Had he actually gone insane? Finally? When she moved out of his grip to look at him, he stared right back at her with all the love he held for the past decade in his eyes. 

Handing him a small slip of paper, a tear fell from her eye and he unabashedly reached up to wipe it away. 

“That’s for you,” she laughed and sobbed at the same time, “so you don’t lose me again.”

Bradley reached up and wiped his own tears away, laughing along with her. He opened the paper to see her real name, phone number, and email. When he looked back up at her, the name on the paper suited her perfectly. He felt relief at finally having an answer to his question.

“I tried to find you,” he croaked, and she took his hands into hers, crumpling the paper ever so slightly. 

“I heard there was a storm moving in, so I tried to find you,” nodding, she confirmed. He smiled, realizing they had the same idea. Laughing, he shook his head. 

“I’ve been looking for you, Rooster, but I didn’t have clearance to get your name.”

“Bradley,” he corrected her, “Bradley Bradshaw.”

“That suits you,” her gentle voice filled his heart with a happiness he didn't know was possible for him. He did have a new question though.

“How did you find me?” he was curious, and she nodded to the man sitting behind Bradley. When the younger man turned to look at his uncle, Pete gave him a little wave. 

Of course. Only Mav could pull this off.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rooster could see a few of his friends had now joined Phoenix and Bob, trying to work out what was happening. She noticed too, and gave a little wave like Pete had seconds before.

“My friends,” he turned to them, and guided the woman over to them. He introduced her to everyone, and when her name didn’t ring a bell for any of them, he sighed, “Skittles.”

That got a reaction, and everyone was shocked to say the least. Hands were shaken, and names exchanged. It’s nice to meet you and oh Bradshaw has not shut up about you for the past decade. 

Hangman was particularly pleased to meet the beautiful woman not because he wanted to flirt with her, but because he was actually happy Rooster found her. They all were, and had quickly given her the honorary callsign of the candy. 

Despite being in the center of a group of his friends, Rooster and Skittles were the only people in the room. Bradley was admittedly shocked when he found out she wasn’t married, but she told him it’s because she had been hung up on him and he understood completely. 

She had waited for him.

Before they knew it, the bar was empty and Penny was closing up for the night. 

The bar owner and the Captain watched the pair, still talking excitedly, from a distance.

“I can’t believe you found her, Pete,” she admitted, and he nodded.

“It wasn’t easy, but as you are aware, I have friends,” he smirked, “I just wanted him to be happy, y’know?”

Penny nodded, and went back to cleaning, while Mav stood up to help her. The pair left, and went to Bradley’s place where they stayed awake all night catching up and having a glass of skittles vodka.

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #topgunmaverick #top gun #top gun x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

[wh0lemilk0vich]

okay so this one has been bouncing around in my head. transfemme!stevie who starts estrogen and her weight redistribution coupled with a bit of happy relationship weight leaves her with no concept of women’s clothing sizing and what actually fits her, especially because it’s so variable by brand. she gets so frustrated in the dressing room when the cute jeans she picked up in medium and large won’t pull beyond her plump thighs, or when certain dress material doesn’t have any give. eddie on the other hand loves to watch the way his favorite girl’s body is changing. eventually, she stops caring as much and most of her clothes fit tightly on her curves, and eddie often finds himself on his knees sucking stevie off when she gets home because of how exquisite she looks in her new clothes. the lingerie is even better because it doesn’t have to look presentable, so her new boobs and fluffy hips look wonderful when they’re adorned with lacey teddies or red thongs. -🫑

🫑anon!!! My heart 🥰🥰🥰🥰

This is so cute and precious to me. I'm such a transfem Stevie truther and this is just soooo good. I can see them dating from pre-transition and then Steve comes out and Eddie is so supportive (Bi/Pan Eddie 🥰), so excited to get to call his Stevie his lady, princess, babydoll, sugar. And Eddie's always been the gift giving/physical touch type, it's just that the gifts of his love language typically tend to be food. Steve's favorite snacks, extra helpings here and there, a sonic run when he's had a bad day.

And like I soooo saw exactly the scene you were describing. Steve's body starts softening, weight distributing to her chest (thanks titty Skittles) and, low in her belly, her ass, hips, thighs; growing beautifully plump and pear shaped. And she's finally ready to start feminizing her wardrobe more. She's been growing out her hair, Robin and Nancy have been helping her with make-up. But she doesn't understand any of the sizing and they couldn't be there to help, and she's too afraid to ask any of the department store staff for help. So when none of the jeans she picked out fit up her thighs, or over her ass, and the dress that does fit is tight and conforms to all of her curves, her flaring hips, and outlines her belly, and she nearly melts down in the changing room. But Eddie comes in and just holds her and tells her how beautiful she is, and looks for some stretchier stuff, grabs a couple higher numbers for now to see how they work. And Stevie has calmed down and is about to undress out of the dress when Eddie's suddenly hugging her from behind, love in his eyes looking at her in the mirror, and he drags his big hands along her sides, emphasizing her figure before rubbing and cupping that soft lower swell that the velvet dress displays prominently saying "Fuck me running, Stevie. This is the best part of dresses" so earnest and aroused, his hot breath in her ear. She can feel him, hard, behind her and looks at herself through his eyes and it's just 🥰🥰🥰.

He can't help himself when they get home, he wants a fashion show, to see her in everything... especially the new stuff they got from Victoria's secret. Like the lacey black cheeky tangas and the starter bralettes and push-ups since Stevie's been getting so busty.

Eddie can't help himself, he gets her out of the lacey bra and sucks her tits, feeling up her ass (giving it a sharp slap to hear her moan), her hips, her gorgeous belly, kissing down her body, biting into that buttery soft roll, before settling his curly maned head between her creamy warm thighs, smacking a loud kiss to her inner thigh, before sucking her off like a hoover.

Stevie has her fingers buried in Eddie's hair, grabbing, and grounding herself on his expert mouth work, his ridiculously talented tongue. She knows she's squeezing her thighs a bit hard, but he's not complaining and he just gives herself over to feeling sexy, beautiful, loved. Because Eddie loves everything about her.

Leads to transfem!chubby!Stevie diner au

#misha speaks #chubby steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #chaser eddie munson #chubby kink #steddie #stranger things #🫑 anon

[washa]

I listened to Guy's new audio and here’s my favourite personal comments! (you can tell how much i love both Honey and Guy in this)

ALSO THANK YOU TO @xanyiaz FOR HELPING ME WHILE MY PATREON IS DOWN 🙏🙏

This video just solidifies the whole Guy and Honey is just reverse Angel and David

Guy is so me, i have no idea what's happening in movies half the time

Rambling?? Guy kinnies stand up with me here

Honey is Sweetheart confirmed

ngl i was scared for an angsty Guy but then i was slapped in the face that this is Guy. what angst could there be.

GOD I LOVE THESE TWO URGH

Horror movies make no sense to me, like why are they always so stupid.

"Normal people do dumb shit!" So loud and so right Guy

Does Erik just play these movies in the back while talking? Cause if i was him i'd get so distracted.

He's such a flirt omfg 😭

"We love that for them!" I'M CRYING WHAT IS HE ON

MOST OF THEM ARE HOT???

Bisexual Guy Bisexual Guy 🙏

WHY IS HE SO UNNECESSARILY SMOOTH

Guy's giving that one photo of a dog as a bread loaf but high on serotonin and Adderall

PROSTRATE FORM?? ofc they've talked abt using the word prostrate

yes guy lovely mini skittles you have there

THE MOVIES TIMING ON THE "HEY YOU WANNA GET LAID" I CANNOT

I wanna see Guy scared so can the movie do it's thing rq

Guy's such a blond

oh no?? what is happening.

I love skittles too but this is funnier

WHAT'S HAPPENING?? I NEED TO WATCH THE DAMN MOVIE FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE

The way Guy said "She is NOT beautiful" reminds me of that one vine where the guy goes "She's very beautiful to me!"

He has the maturity of a eighth grader sometimes, actually no all the time

His "mnm mnm" when the movie guy gets his arm was grabbed reminds me of cartoon character that's green shaking it's head while trying not to throw up.

WHY IS HE HALF SINGING I'M CACKLING

"ew ew ew ew ew OH GOD-! AUGHH NO NO NO EW I DON'T EW WANNA WATCH THIS EW EW EW" so real of him

there is so much happening in this audio

ofc he's retching

he sounds so genuinely broken and traumatized after the sounds

AWH HONEY'S HOLDING HIM??? I CAN'T, WAIT IS THE SUDDEN MUFFLING OF HIS VOICE HIM HIDING IN HONEYS CHEST?? 😭😭😭

I wonder if this is Erik's actually reaction to this bc it's was mentioned he doesn't like eye, nails and teeth related gore things.

Skittles Littles 🤞

Again Honey is Sweetheart. Peanut gallery my ass

I'd be laughing too if my boyfriend explained a horror movie with bones and snake looking things

HELP THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR?? WHY IS HE PREACHING AMENS AND STUPIDITY

Yeah what do you mean technically only one is dead???

HE'S RUNNING AWAY, OF COURSE HE'S RUNNING AWAY

IM CACKLING RIGHT NOW THE MOVIES AUDIO IS TOPPING THIS OFF

#I CANNOT STRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE GUY AND HONEY #they are my everything #ALSO HELLA HYPED FOR THE SUMMIT #WOOOOOOOO #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted guy #redacted honey #washa rants!!

[namusthetic]

Marauders' Era

The Slytherin Skittles

From the Marauders' Era fandom. Decided to lounge about in the Slytherin common room? Join the Skittles for a late night Slytherin chat.

Regulus A. Black

"From far away I wish I'd stayed with you, but here face to face, a stranger that I once knew.

I thought if I wandered I'd fall back in love. You said distance brings fondness, but guess not with us."

- Astronomy, Conan Gray

Doesn't ask for help

Overachiever

Covers his deep insecurities with a god-complex

Abandonment and trust issues

Suffers panic and anxiety attacks, the others know exactly what to do when it happens and huddle around him, holding hands and grounding him, until he starts breathing normally again and stops shaking

Protective of his chosen family

Instead of fighting to keep people in his life, he lets them go because in the end he thinks he's never enough to stay for

Hates loud noises and making noise when moving or walking

Deeply misunderstood

Tries to remain detached and cold as much as possible because knows he'd end up caring too deeply

Self-isolates when he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, luckily, whenever that happens, the others storm his usual hiding spots and force him to go outside and enjoy himself

Escapes from his own thoughts by reading or listening to music compulsively

Barty Crouch Jr.

"I used to like liquor to get me inspired but you look so beautiful, my new supplier. I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking, but I found a different buzz.

The world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it I know they got pills that can help you forget it, they bottle it, call it medicine, but I don't need drugs. 'Cause I'm already high enough, you got me, you got me good."

- High Enough by K. Flay

covers his need for attention and approval with loudness and chaos

Fear of missing out

Afraid that people will forget about him and leave him behind

Avoids talking and thinking about his own feelings

Cannot control his emotions when overwhelmed

Hides it when deeply hurt

Clingy drunk, cries if left by himself

Has a soft spot for pets, especially dogs (once he even accidentally cuddled Padfoot without knowing it was actually Sirius)

Hopeless romantic when in a serious relationship

Incredibly intelligent, he just doesn't want to please his father in any way so he acts out

Jokes about his trauma in public, but ends up sleeping in Evan's bed whenever he has nightmares

ADHD kid

Makes dirty jokes all the time but is afraid of having a stable relationship and not being enough for his partner

Evan Rosier

"And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute that I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? That I'm fine even after I have died? Because it was in your arms I died.

I cry in the afterlife, I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive. I try to escape afterlife, I try hard to get back inside your arms alive."

- Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

Calm and collected most of the time

Silent anger

Insomniac, spends the nights reading and listening to chill music

Deadly afraid of spiders, always asks Pandora to take them outside

Energy drinks and caffeine

If looks could kill

Tries to keep everyone from getting in trouble together with Dorcas

Doesn't pay attention in class but gets good grades anyway

Grew up too quickly

Joins Barty and Dorcas whenever they are tipsy and start a singing contest

Likes nights out with friends, randomly walking with no precise destination, a few drinks in hand and the warmth of chosen family around him

The observant, silent one

Always carries small perfume vials since he can't stand smells (sweat, cigarette smoke, etc.)

Pandora Rosier

"You don't have to be like everybody else, you don't have to fit into the norm, you are not here to conform. I am here to take a look inside myself, recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm.

I am not my body, not my mind or my brain (ha), not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA. I am the observer, I'm a witness of life, I live in the space between the stars and the sky."

- Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

Already figured who was going to end up in a relationship with whom years before it happened

Has a private gardening spot where she grows their own plants (especially herbs)

Follows the lunar calendar instead of the solar one, they all celebrate both new years with big parties

Wears long airy dresses with flower patterns and a dozen crystal necklaces and rings

Talks enthusiastically about everything she's passionate about with no restraints (and everyone loves listening to her talk)

Knows weird knowledge nobody knows from where

Walks Hogwarts' halls singing and with a spring in her step

Spends afternoons in the forest sketching fantastic beasts and feeding them treats

Loves making flower crowns, Regulus wears them whenever she makes one for him and hexes anyone who dares say something about it

Always has paint on her hands or face

Dorcas Meadowes

"Say my name, as every colour illuminates. We are shining, and we will never be afraid again.

And when we come for you, we'll be dressed up all in blue, with the ocean in our arms, kiss your eyes and kiss your palms.

And when it's time to pray, we'll be dressed up all in grey, with metal on our tongues, and silver in our lungs."

- Spectrum (Say My Name) by Florence and The Machine

Hates small talk and superficial friendships

Direct, immediately cuts straight to the point

Politically active against all kinds of discrimination and violence

Strong and determined to achieve what she wants

Ready to argue with anyone, anytime, anywhere

Knows exactly what she wants

Stays up late to read and listen to music in the common room

Has everything planned out

Neon lights and cocktails, loud music and cherry flavored lip balm

Travels a lot but is ready to return home immediately if one of her close friends needs her help

Elegant style, always impeccably dressed

Storms out of the dorm and takes a long walk whenever she feels she can't control her anger

Loves to listen to true crime podcasts

------------------------💚🐍

So I love the Marauders' gang, but (I don't know if you guessed it) I really have a soft spot for the Skittles. To me they feel like the ones who never really even had a chance to be saved, who were left to fend for themselves and to die just because of their families and house. They were damaged as much as the others but found no one to help them but each other.

#aestethic #slytherin skittles #regulus black #the marauders era #moodboard #character aesthetics #types of people #tag yourself #tag your aesthetic #slytherin #dorcas meadowes #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #song lyrics #rosekiller

[laequiem]

Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 18

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: explicit

Word count: 3,301

“I could not let you outshine me in that dress. Speaking of which,” I say, feigning innocence, “will you be needing assistance to dress?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine,” she says. She gets up from her cocoon of blankets and pulls the dress out of her bag. “Turn around.” I grin widely, “I’ve seen you naked before. Just hours ago, I had my face—” “Get. Out.

read it on ao3

Chapter 17 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost

Cardan POV

We must have drifted asleep, because the next thing I know, I wake up. I can still taste Jude in my mouth, which does nothing to halt the inevitable morning erection. What does, however, is the shuffling of bushes outside the stall, the faint noise of someone creeping towards our shelter. I lift Jude’s arm off my chest and get up, buttoning my pants as I do.

Elfhame’s weather is a lot tamer than New York City’s, but the cold shocks me all the same after being near Jude’s warmth all night. I listen as the creature skitters away and only then do I leave the stables. Waiting for me on a rock is a bundle of folded clothes, opalescent scales shining in the moonlight against the dark blue fabric. 

I fish a bag of Skittles from our pack and swap it for the clothing, my payment for a job well done. As I put down the bright red bag, a bush further away shifts, and I see a pair of black eyes staring at me. 

When I head back inside, Jude is sitting up, the blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her hair is tousled, her eyelids drooping with sleepiness, but her brows furrow at the sight of what I’m carrying.

“Where did you get this?” she asks.

I shrug, “We couldn’t go to Hollow Hall, so I got someone to go for me.”

In truth, when I filled the troughs for the animals earlier, I found a brownie sleeping on the job. I didn’t even have to pull rank on him, I simply made a deal—if he got me clothing from my room, I would give him something worthy of his time. And what is more worthy than a bag of sugary snacks from the mortal realm?

The corners of Jude’s mouth tugs up. She raises a brow. “Your mortal clothes weren’t good enough for you?”

“I could not let you outshine me in that dress. Speaking of which,” I say, feigning innocence, “will you be needing assistance to dress?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine,” she says. She gets up from her cocoon of blankets and pulls the dress out of her bag. “Turn around.”

I grin widely, “I’ve seen you naked before. Just hours ago, I had my face—”

“Get. Out,” she barks and throws the balled-up blanket at me.

I obey, if only so I can get the full effect of seeing the dress on her when she’s ready. The bag of Skittles is already gone, no trace left of my dealing. I make quick work of dressing myself outside, the outfit the brownie brought fairly simple compared to what I would normally wear to a coronation. 

I linger outside, flattening wrinkles with my hands, until Jude calls from inside, “I’m done.”

I feel my heart beating in my throat as I make my way back inside, eager to finally see what I’ve been dreaming about.

To say that Jude is the most beautiful thing in here would not do her justice—she is standing in a stable, after all. She doesn’t belong here. She would not be out of place at the palace. In fact, she belongs on a throne, presiding over a mass of obedient subjects. Her brown hair is still wild, but she has combed through it with her fingers to tame it. The white gradient of the bustle is stark against her dark skin, drawing attention to her assets and yet—the branching embroidery is so intricate that I somehow manage not to stare at the plunging neckline. The dress flares out at her waist, the fabric flowing down in blue waves that I would love to get lost under. 

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I raise my eyes to Jude’s, and realize that she’s staring, too. She bites her bottom lip, then her jaw clenches and she releases it. 

“You look…” she trails off.

Her hesitancy tugs a smile out of me. “Beautiful? Handsome? Like I could break hearts?”

Jude scowls and she turns her nose up at me. “Well, since you put it so well, I guess I don’t have to say it.”

My jaw drops at the same time as my heart, and I realize that she won this exchange. I won’t let her have the last word, though.

“I was aiming to be more beautiful than you,” I tell her, offering her my arm. “But it seems I failed.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks, and she looks down at my arm. Instead of answering, she takes my arm, and we leave the stables for the palace.

///

Night broke a few hours ago, the faeries of Elfhame now fully awake and ready to revel. We stay off the main path as we make our way to the palace. The few people we meet do not seem to notice us. In the forest, a couple of Grackles drink to Balekin’s upcoming victory, while a phooka plays their version of tag with a dazzled group of human servants. At the palace, guests are arriving, and we make our way through the procession, mingling with the other fae. 

The guards at the entrance don’t bother stopping us. I can see in their eyes that they recognize me, but they nod and let us through. I see them nod at a set of guards standing further inside, who detach themselves from the wall, surely to alert my brother. 

I let Jude take the lead as we enter the throne room. My brother ensured that the event would be as grandiose as possible. A carpet of golden spidersilk divides the room in two, defining a trail straight to the throne in case folk forget where they have to go to kneel. There is currently no king, of course, so the throne sits empty, unguarded. On both sides of the walkway, large tables are overfilled with food and drinks. Glamoured humans dart around the place, refilling drinks before people even finish them. Jude sees them too, and she clenches her hand around my arm. I put a hand over hers, a small reassurance. 

Fae of all shapes and sizes stomp around in the moss, dancing, flirting, fighting. Heads turn towards us as Jude and I make our entrance, their gasps and whispers smothered by the music. I raise my chin higher and out of the corner of my eye, I see Jude do the same, squaring her shoulders. 

I don’t see Balekin or the crown. I lean towards Jude and whisper, “Do you have a plan?”

“No,” she lies. Of course she has a plan, she always does. 

I sigh. If she doesn’t want to tell me, then nothing I say will make her change her mind. All I can do is trust her and expect the worst.

“Cardan.” 

My brother’s voice cuts through every thought. Balekin’s voice has a tendency to bring out the worst in me, and hearing it now is no different. Whatever small part of childhood innocence still lives in me yearns to please him. After all, I have modeled myself after him, and my truthful tongue would never let me admit that I don’t want him to be proud of me, even now. 

I turn to face him. All of us might have different mothers, but it would be impossible to tell by looking at the pair of us. Balekin looks like an older, more masculine version of me. Sharp cheekbones with a hint of stubble, cruel eyes and raven black hair. He keeps his long, falling in waves to his broad shoulders. It’s a shame, really, because it means that I have to keep mine short, lest I look like I am trying to emulate him still. My brother wears an opulent robe, his chest bare underneath, ready to shrug off the robe to let his subjects paint the words of the ceremonial oaths over him. A leather strap sits over his hips and, though it’s hidden by the robe, I assume he is carrying his sword. He wears no crown atop his head, but there are bloody moths fluttering around his head like a crimson halo. 

“Brother,” I reply curtly. “You know of Jude, I am sure.”

Balekin’s eyes flick towards Jude, then back at me, as if she were nothing more than an accessory. “Is she the one who keeps besting you, or the one who knows her place?”

“The one who kidnapped him,” Jude cuts in, her tone amused. The only sign that Balekin has heard her is a twitch of his brow.

“A great event you have organized here, brother,” I drawl. “You must excuse us, I would like to sample some of your delicacies.”

Before I can drag Jude away, Balekin lays his hand on my shoulder, his sharp nails digging through the fabric of my shirt and into my skin.

“You have wasted enough of my time,” Balekin snarls. 

Next to me, Jude stiffens. Before she can say something we’ll both regret, though, a large figure appears next to Balekin. Madoc, dressed in his finery and wearing his crusty red cap, bows to my brother. 

“Your Highness,” he says. He turns to Jude, “Daughter.”

I am not the least bit surprised that he does not even acknowledge me. 

“Father,” Jude replies. 

“I expected you to ride here with us,” he accuses, his words chosen carefully.

What he means, surely, is Why did you bring this fop to Balekin instead of me?, but it wouldn’t do to let Balekin know of his plan, I suppose. 

I pipe up, “After being away from Elfhame for so long, we had friends to greet. I’m sure you understand, Grand General, the value of keeping relations.” He does not need to know that the friends in question were a stable toad and other various barn animals. 

Madoc’s gaze lands on me for the first time. He narrows his eyes. “Is that so?” 

“In fact,” Jude adds, “I believe I see Nicasia over there. We should go greet her.”

I have no doubt that Jude has no intention to go to Nicasia, that she simply dropped her name as someone both Madoc and Balekin would know. She drops in a clumsy curtsy for my brother, and we all but run away from our overbearing guardians. 

As we weave our way through the crowd, people bump into us. I get hit by elbows and tails, and by the time I notice that Jude has let go of my arm, it’s too late. I whirl, looking around, but I can’t see past the wings, antennae or straight up bulk of some of my fellow fae. I have lost Jude. Swearing under my breath, I shove my way out of the mass of people. I emerge in front of the drinks table, thankfully. I will need some liquid courage to endure this evening. 

I grab a pitcher and drink straight from it. 

I need to find Jude.

The music dies down. People turn towards the dais, where my brother stands tall in his green and gold robe. On one side, the Living Council are lined up, save for the Grand General. Val Moren, our father’s former seneschal and human lover, flanks his other side, his eyes glazed over. Whether it’s from a glamour, or due to his grief following my father’s death, I do not know. 

“Folk of Elfhame,” Balekin bellows, “for too long, our Kingdom has been without a High King. The land remembers the tragedy, the blood shed on that ill-omened day. Without its rightful ruler, the land withers.”

Balekin gestures behind him to the throne, its branches dry and bare of any bloom. It’s not just the throne, though—the air tastes different, like Elfhame’s magic cannot keep out the iron from the Mortal Realm as much as it used to. The mossy ground of the palace lacks its usual dewy covering, drying out in patches where it climbs on the roots of the throne. 

My brother continues. “It is my hope that today, Elfhame will regain its ruler with much merriment and no inconveniences,” he pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on me. He smiles, but his eyes are cold with a violent promise. “I am beside myself to know my brother is alive and well, that he is back by my side. Where he belongs.”

Madoc slides in between Randalin and Baphen, taking his place with the rest of the Living Council. In his hands, he holds a velvet cushion, its surface embroidered with the Greenbriar sigil. Atop it rests the Blood Crown. On Balekin’s other side, Val Moren steps forth. 

“Two of Mab’s heirs remain,” he intones, his voice rough with disuse. “Crown Prince Cardan Greenbriar, join us on the dais.”

I never thought I would ever hear someone refer to me as Crown Prince, but I suppose the situation is unusual. I’m not the only one feeling strange, as chatter arises between the folks, head turning towards me. I don’t think I ever had this many eyes on me at any royal event before. Even the time when I made a boy scream in pain, I was still ignored by most. So I raise my chin, paste a rictus of a grin on my face, and march to the dais.

I finally spot Jude, in the front row of the crowd beneath the dais where she stands with the rest of her family, holding Oak’s hand. She smiles at me, but it does not reach her eyes.

“As the former High King’s wish to have his third-born rule in his stead cannot be fulfilled,” Val Moren continues, his voice full of sorrow, “you will have to decide between yourselves who will rule.”

Balekin’s hand goes to his sword belt, as if I needed a reminder of my place. His smile sharpens.

“I believe my brother has no desire to be High King,” Balekin says without even looking at me. 

“Indeed, I do not,” I reply.

“It is decided, then,” Val Moren says. “Grand General, bring the Blood Crown to His Highness Prince Cardan.”

Madoc’s face is carefully blank as he crosses the dais to stand before me. He does not kneel—I am not his King. Instead, he leans towards me. 

“Do not disappoint,” he whispers before straightening.

My eyes locked with his, I grab the crown. The metal is warm to the touch, as if all the magic in the land sleeps in the golden oak leaves adorning it. Madoc’s lip twitches in a frown, but he retreats with the cushion and leaves me standing there, alone, with the crown in my hands.

I wish Jude had told me the plan. Before I can turn to her for guidance, Val Moren speaks. “Prince Cardan Greenbriar, will you bestow the crown of Mab upon Crown Prince Balekin?”

Madoc’s hand rests on the sword at his hip, his back stiff as he stands taller than everyone else in the living council. I don’t know who would behead me first, if I was to step out of line—him or Balekin? Perhaps Jude would take the honor away from them and do it herself, though it has been a while since she has threatened me.

Jude takes a step forward, letting go of Oak’s hand. The guards flanking the steps of the dais cross their halberds to block her from advancing further, so she stays standing between the crowd and the dais. 

“Ciaran Cardan Greenbriar,” Jude says, her voice just loud enough for me–and everyone else on the dais–to hear. “With your True Name, freely given, I forbid you to crown your oldest brother. For as long as I live and beyond.”

My hands suddenly clench around the crown, unbidden. I whip my head towards Jude in shock. She quickly turns her gaze away from me, but not fast enough—I see the guilt before she can hide it. Gasps erupt from the Living Council, then a scoff, the hiss of metal against metal as someone unsheathes their weapon.

“Cardan, you fool,” Balekin growls, pure hatred dripping from every syllable.

When I turn towards him, I realize he doesn’t have his sword in hand. Madoc does, though, cat eyes attuned to Balekin’s movement. Ready to strike. 

So this was the plan, then. Jude has sided with her father, and they will have me crown Oak instead of my brother. I wish she had told me beforehand. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so betrayed, so… used. Anger rises in me. I am tired of everyone around me scheming behind my back, ignoring me. All my life, ever since—

He will be the destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne.

I look down at the crown in my hands. It has been around for millenia. Wars have been fought for it. My siblings were killed for it, my father pushed me aside for fear that I would destroy it.

I take a deep breath.

And I snap the crown in half. 

The crowd gets ever louder. The ground starts shaking, as if people are trampling it, but—no, it’s the land, quaking, shifting. The roots holding up the ceiling of the palace begin to shrink, dirt falling from the roof like dark snow. Beneath my feet, a crack starts to form. I step back, towards the throne. Its branches shrivel and snap off until it is no more than a pile of dead branches. 

Courtiers rush out of the brugh, bottlenecking at the too few points of escape. Some of the fiercest lords and ladies of the lower courts stay put, weapons drawn, waiting to see if they can elevate their status now that the crown is no more. Orlagh is grinning madly, shark-toothed guards surrounding her and Nicasia and protecting them with their bodies. Nicasia’s glassy eyes are on me—she has been crying, I think—and I force myself to look away. Lord Roiben of the Court of Termites is giving orders to his knights, his sword tightly gripped in his fist, and I catch a glimpse of Severin’s human knight amongst the throng, her red hair advancing like the lit flame of a fuse as she guides her king out.

Madoc has whirled on Jude, his tusks fully visible as he spits his anger out at her. Every time his sword arm so much as moves, I flinch, thinking this might be the time he snaps and murders his bastard daughter.

And as if I wasn’t terrified enough, Balekin clears his throat. A shiver of dread crawls up my spine as I turn to him. Purposefully, he unsheathes his sword, his eyes mad with fury and his smile sharp.

“It seems my brother has shown us today what the prophecy surrounding his birth meant.” Balekin’s cold voice dominates through the ambient chaos. “He will be the destruction of the crown and the ruination of the throne.” He says the words that have been haunting me my whole life as if they’re a joke only he understands. “But there was more to it, wasn’t there, Astrologer?”

Balekin takes a step towards me, his sword deceptively loose in his grip. “Only out of his spilled blood can a great ruler rise.”

I don’t need to look at Baphen, the Royal Astrologer, to know that he confirms Balekin’s words. 

“I shall awaken the great ruler, then,” Balekin snarls.

In one swift motion, Balekin is upon me. I don’t have a weapon, but it would not make a difference if I did. Pain stabs my side as Balekin lunges. Once, in and out, before flicking the blood off his sword with a triumphant smile. 

Some laughs, some gasp, some scream. But above all of them, someone bellows my name in a shriek of pure grief. 

---

tag list: @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @adxmparriish @hazelsheartsworn @zumurruds @inconspicuoussophia @idonotcareaboutyouropinion

#the folk of the air #tfota #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #c2c

[mad4turtles]

I have a request it’s a silly one I’ve been meaning to draw myself but I’d like to see your take on it. Can I see your version of a sugared up rotmnt Leo and the chaos that ensues

Oh, this. THIS is beautiful XD

---

Hamato Raphael has few regrets in his life. That's not saying much considering he's lived all of seventeen years, but he can count on his fingers the number of true regrets he has. One of them being—what else—what transpired nearly a year prior with the Krang and the damned portal.

(He's not sure he'll ever truly forgive himself for that, for all his family assure him it wasn't him, it was them. But he does his best to put it behind him nowadays. They're healing.)

His most recent regret, however, is one he could have easily prevented had he been listening to what Casey and Leo were chatting about in the T.V. room. 

Had he not been engrossed in his phone, doom-scrolling through memes on Twitter and Tumblr, he might've heard the future boys' innocent question: “Hey, Leo, what's a... a 'sugar rush'?”

Had he not been snickering at another Will Smith slap meme, he might've noticed Leo looking up to send Casey The Grin. The Grin that spells doom for every Hamato (or anyone associated with or in the general vicinity of the Hamato's). 

If Raphael had just seen The Grin, he'd have one less regret. 

~0o0~

Later, he gets a text from Donnie.

DonTron: Raphael. Did you leave the sugar snacks in plain sight and within reach in the cupboard?

Biggest Bro: … y?

DonTron: Doth thou not hear the caterwauling of the sugar-high devils currently destroying our less-than-humble abode?????

DonTron: Because I can. I have dubstep in my headphones. I can still hear the screams, papa.

Oh god.

Raph all but flies out of his room, skidding to a halt in the kitchen with wide eyes.

“YOOOO TELL YA WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT—!”

Leo is standing on the dining table, basketball shorts on his head and Splinter's fur brush in his hand like a microphone, his face coated in colour splatters of milk, chocolate and sugar that have Raph's nose tingling. 

“SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT!”

Casey is shirtless, Fanta and Pepsi Max bottles strapped to his belt like guns in holsters, empty boxes of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops taped to his shoulders like armour, the remnants of the food sticking to his face and chest, stomping his bare feet to the tone-deaf beat.

“I'LL TELL YA WHAT I WANT, WHAT REALLY REALLY WANT—!”

Mikey's head is wrapped with tinfoil, Captain Crunch's face cut out like a mask which the box shell has taped to his face, vibrant splatters of paint in every colour of the rainbow staining his body, the countertops and the floor as whips his dripping brushes wildly about like a drunk at a rave party. That explains why Casey has war paint, Raph supposes. 

“I WANNA REALLY REALLY REALLY WANNA ZIG-A-ZIG, AAAAHHHH—!”

Raph watches, frozen, as his little brothers screech like banshees, banging pots and pans like drums and dousing themselves with paint and enough sugary foods to make Raph's teeth ache second-hand. He watches as Leo attempts a backflip, slips on a gummy worm dipped in chocolate sauce and spins twice mid-air on the way to the floor, only to shake it off with his whole body and go right back to screaming to the Spice Girls. Mikey does the Toby Maguire dance. Casey twerks.

Raph watches. Donnie appears from thin air, phone already in hand and filming. When Raph cuts him a glance, he shrugs. “Blackmail,” he says at length.

Raph blinks very slowly. “You don't think that, I dunno... maybe we should intervene?”

“SENSEI! I CAN TASTE THE COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW!”

“YES, MY SON! UNLEASH YOUR TRUE GAY POWER!”

Donnie blinks back. “You ask far too much of me, brother dearest.” He turns back to the mayhem. 

Raph stares at him a moment longer. He turns back just as Leo clambers onto the table again and pops open a bag of skittles, to the delight of Mikey and Casey. “NOW EVERYONE'S MY BOYFRIEND!”

Raph feels like doing a lot of things. Screaming, crying, laughing, all three at once. Smashing something almost tops the list, but he settles for the next best, and least destructive, thing. 

“I'll get the hose,” he sighs and stomps away. Donnie hums and continues filming. 

Raph returns just as Mikey finishes a butchered rendition of Memory from Cats, and he feels nothing when he aims and fires streams of freezing water at the three shrieking stooges. He doesn't stop until they're out of the kitchen, screaming curses and sopping wet. Then he looks at Donnie. “Is your phone waterproof?”

Donnie cocks a drawn brow. “It's everything proof. Why?”

“Just checking,” Raph says and sprays Donnie in the face.

~0o0~

What goes up must come down, and when the boys finally crash, it's a pitiful sight.

Raph is keenly aware that their suffering is deserved. But he's just as at fault for not nipping Leo's hairless-brained scheme in the bud or for forgetting to properly hide the sugary goods April had brought from their last hangout from Leo and Mikey's grubby little hands. The guilt from that (minor though it is) and years of Big Brother instincts compel Raph to hold Casey's hair back as he hurls in the toilet, help Leo scrub his shell in the hard-to-reach areas, and wrangle Mikey's limbs into his pyjamas. Then he's lugging all three into the living room, where the inflatable mattress and blankets have already been set up.

Once they're all tucked in, he stands up with a huff and crosses his arms. “So,” he begins sternly—bleeding heart or no, he's still tired and mildly pissed. “What have we learned?”

“Sugar is Satan,” Casey whimpers in his blanket cocoon. Leo huffs a tired snicker. Raph bites back his own.

“A bit extreme, but okay. What else?”

“Always remember the wise words from Jeff Goldblum,” Mikey croaks.

“Which are?”

“We could, but we never stopped to think if we should,” Leo groans. “And also this whole situation is one big pile of shit.”

Raph nods. “Exactly, but language. And what are we not gonna do from now on?”

“Indulge in sugary sin?” Casey moans.

This time Raph snickers. “What's with the Bible stuff? You prayin' for a quick recovery?”

Casey sends Raph a withering glare. “If God was real, he'd have stopped us.”

“Nah, man,” Mikey shakes his head and shuts his eyes, cuddling deeper into the blanket and Leo's side as he shivers. “Why d'you think he stays in heaven? He's hiding from Leo.”

Leo's face cracks a stupid grin. “That's me, slayer of pink alien bitches and feared by God himself. Bow before me, mortals.”

Casey swats at him weakly. “I'd sooner bow before the toilet again. I'm never listening to you again, you asshole.”

“You asked me, though.”

“Then I'm an idiot. Which says a lot about the guy who raised me.”

“Go for the throat, why don't you.”

Raph rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, that's enough.” He bends down to tuck the blanket snugly around them again. “Get some sleep. I'll be in the kitchen, cleaning up your mess, so holler if you need me. If you gotta puke, bucket's next to the couch.”

Leo's hand peeks out from the blanket burrito and holds Raph's finger. The snapper looks at Leo's mask-less face as it gives way to something devoid of all pretence. “... 'm sorry, Raphie.”

And just like that, all irritation leaves him in a sigh shaped like a smile. He squeezes Leo's hand. “You're good, little brother. Just don't do it again, aight? I can only take so much of you, dum-dum. Don't need you converting Mikey and Jr, too.” Freeing his hand, he raps his knuckles against Leo's forehead. The slider giggles tiredly and swats back playfully, missing by a mile as Raph stands. “G'night, fellas. Hope your dreams at as wild as Casey's twerking.”

Raph has a few regrets in his short life. But picking up after his idiot brothers in the wake of their childish antics as they howl with hysterical laughter in the other room isn't one of them. 

All part of being a big brother.

---

This was an absolute BLAST to write. Feel free to send more requests :)

Reblogs are very appreciated <3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #my writing #yoooo Leo on a sugar high feeds the adhd demon inside me that has no impulse control #i added mikey and casey for reasons #this was seriously too much fun to write

[themovieblogonline]

The Little Mermaid Review: Is This Remake Worth a Watch?

The Little Mermaid has finally made its way to the big screen, and as a fan of the original, I was both excited and skeptical about this remake. However, I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. THE GOOD One of the things that impressed me the most about The Little Mermaid is its great opening. It immediately feeds us the nostalgia that fans of the original films are looking for. There are some key scenes and locations that are required for this remake that fans will appreciate. The sunken ship and shark attack opening are one of those scenes, and it's incredible to see this familiar setting in a new way. I remember how this movie helped me to develop a healthy fear of sharks at a young age. The opening moments of the movie might be triggering for those of us who remember. What I especially enjoy about this scene is that it feels like a direct remake of what I remember as a kid, and it feeds that nostalgia that I didn't know I wanted. But the movie doesn't ease up, because it quickly hits us with the songs. OMG the songs! Halle Bailey's voice is PERFECT as Ariel and proves that The Little Mermaid songs still hit. I somehow forgot I memorized so many of these songs as a kid. That all ended when that time machine of a movie theater transported me to my childhood, and 8-year-old me started singing "Under the Sea." These damn Disney movies had me wanting to live underwater more than the Talokans in "Wakanda Forever." "The Little Mermaid" is a musical first and foremost, so it was important that the movie had some great music. The updates of the original classic songs are pretty good to listen to and will be stuck in your head for days. And let's talk about the visuals! They are beautiful. The sunken ship, Triton's palace, Ariel's Grotto, and even Ursula's lair are all beautiful to see in this new adaptation. There is a lot of eye candy in The Little Mermaid that will not give your eyes a break throughout the entire film. I feel like my eyes were eating Skittles with the rainbow of colors attacking my optics at all times. This is a beautiful movie to watch. Now, I admit that I love the original character designers for Sebastian and Flounder. They are perfect and have aged incredibly well. These new designs take getting used to. IF I take off my biased eyes and forget that those other designs exist, then these new looks are fine. What these characters lack in looks, they make up for with character, making them just as lovable as the originals. And speaking of characters, let's talk about Sebastian. This character steals the whole show. You can take everyone else out and leave Sebastian, and you'll still have fun with his PG-friendly one-liners. Flounder and Scuttle have some moments too, but you can build a franchise around Sebastian alone. Melissa McCarthy's performance as Ursula is VERY over the top, but you know what? It really, really works. Ursula is an over-the-top character. Melissa brings playfulness and deviousness to the character to make her both similar but refreshing. She's not just mimicking what came before; she's actually adding her own spin to the character, and I find this extremely satisfying, as she's without a doubt one of the most important characters in the movie.       THE BAD The performances in this are… hit or miss. The Little Mermaid has some fantastic singing which requires some fantastic singers. The balance between the dialogue, and spoken performance, compared to the singing is inconsistent throughout the movie, and that hurts the experience. Even acclaimed actor Javier Bardem turned in a subdued and flat performance as King of the Seas Triton. It's not just Bardem's performance that's the issue, but a lot of the other performances come across as flat or uninspired. It's a shame because the singing performances are fantastic, but the dialogue scenes just don't quite hit the mark. The remake also stuck too close to the source material. There’s nothing original that gets added or introduced in this movie to help differentiate it from the original. I love the original The Little Mermaid and I think the story holds up well. I think it's a missed opportunity to introduce additional new songs or additional new moments that weren't in the original. Now there are new songs and moments like the Scuttle-Butt rap but there aren't very many of these moments. The Little Mermaid 2023 plays it pretty safe by being an almost direct remake of the animated original. It feels like the filmmakers were avoiding the risk of introducing too much change, which is a shame. Why do movies do this to the Jamaican accent? I understand wanting to make The Little Mermaid accessible to as many people as possible but is this really the way? As much as I like Daveed Diggs' Sebastian in this that accent is like nails on a chalkboard bad. It's not just Diggs either, there are other actors in the film who struggle with the Jamaican accent and it really takes you out of the movie. It's a shame because Sebastian is such a great character and Diggs does a fantastic job with the singing, but the accent is just too distracting. Overall The Little Mermaid is a good movie for the kids. It's not really going to do it for the millennials who grew up on this, but younger parents with young children will have a winner here. The singing performances are fantastic and the visuals are stunning, but the lackluster dialogue scenes and inconsistent performances keep it from being a great movie. It's a shame that the filmmakers didn't take more risks and try to differentiate this remake from the original, but it's still an enjoyable movie for what it is. If you're a fan of the original, you'll find plenty to enjoy here, just don't expect anything groundbreaking or revolutionary.   Read the full article

[the-hopeless-haze]

Well, He Doesn’t Look a Thing Like Jesus... (Justified Sin Chapter 5)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

warnings: domestic violence mentions, mentions of...other violence, mentions of sex, waxing poetic about the morality of sin lol

Taglist: @pop-rocks-and-skittles @yesshewrites1 @deadflowerd @burninggracesandbridges @reggxe-a @ventila98 @grayce427 @leastlikelytoachieve​

It was the first day he saw you after the election, waking up early in the afternoon just to get to you. He never got enough sleep the days he went to see you, but it didn’t really matter because you always made coffee, and your presence and your touches set his nerves ablaze.

“Hey, long time no see!” you said as he walked through the door of the diner, and you ran over and hugged him. “How have you been?”

“Alright. How about you?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, fucking fantastic. He’s been out most of the time and he’s been in a great mood,” you said. “I mean, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop but I’m trying not to think about it. It’s not the outcome for Gotham I wanted, though.”

“I didn’t want that either,” he sighed. “But I’m glad you’ve been better.”

“Let’s go somewhere…. Like, anywhere that isn’t here,” you said suddenly. “I’ll drive?”

“Yeah. Okay. Can I have an idea of where we’re going before you kidnap me?” he asked.

“Mm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Maybe I’m the one with a kinky sex dungeon,” you teased, laughing as he blushed. “You’re cute.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, the words strained as he held himself back from saying so much more.

You looked up at him for a moment, your eyes on his, your bodies still close from your greeting embrace. Your eyes glazed over with unshed tears and you coughed and looked at the floor, blinking, and then you looked back at him, smiling. It wasn’t your genuine smile anymore, it was the practiced one reserved for the cameras, where it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Let’s go. It won’t be anywhere superpopulated. I want to hide, too,” you told him, opening the door of the diner and walking through.

It took him a second to realize what was missing, but eventually, he noticed it was that his hand was empty and cold - you hadn’t reached for him this time. Never one to initiate contact, he stopped you, traced his hand down your forearm, and slipped his hand in yours, smiling nervously at you as you looked at him. A twinge of hurt flashed in your eyes, your smile faltered, but you forced it back, squeezing his hand as you led him to the car.

What was going through your head? He would have killed to know.

The ride is silent for a few moments, but you plug in your phone and start playing an “emo” playlist, all Paramore and Fall Out Boy, and My Chemical Romance.

“Sorry if you don’t like this stuff,” you shrugged, grinning. “It’s what I grew up on.”

“Me too,” Bruce told you.

You glanced at him. “Really? Well, actually, yeah. You’re only a little older than me. You look the type.”

“Am I supposed to be offended?”

“No, Bruce, I mean, Gerard Way has got to be the hottest man to walk this earth. There’s nothing wrong with having that look, trust me.”

“I look nothing like him,” he said, laughing awkwardly.

“No, maybe not, but… you’ve got the energy. You’d be able to pull off the dark makeup look and tight pants,” you said, leaning over a little to nudge his arm. “Halloween idea, maybe? Get some red hair dye?”

“Yeah. I don’t know about that request,” he said. “What’s your favorite song?”

“I mean… maybe ‘Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back.' I love all of Danger Days. Shame they broke up.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“‘I’m Not Okay’,” he replied sheepishly.

“Basic,” you taunted. “Nah. It’s a classic for a reason. Who doesn’t want to scream about how they’re not okay at the top of their lungs? Free therapy right there.”

He hummed in agreement, the song switching over to “Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet”. How fitting. How tiring.

You had let go of his hand when you got in the car, and you didn’t reach back for it since you’ve been driving despite the fact that it was resting on your thigh and not the wheel. Why didn’t you want to touch him? Feeling a little pathetic, Bruce said, “It’s cold today, for September, hm?”

“Yeah, I guess? It’s still good weather, though. I love the fall,” you said, oblivious. “I guess I’m basic, too, but I live for the pumpkin spice lattes and candles and cardigans… it’s just the superior season.”

“I should’ve brought gloves,” he tried again.

You looked over at him suspiciously. “Okay, it’s not that cold. Are you getting sick?”

“No,” he sighed, his cheeks heating up, deciding to be forthright. “I want to hold your hand.”

“Jesus, Bruce, just take my hand then,” you giggled anxiously, taking his hand yourself, threading your fingers between his. “I’m always grabbing you. You don’t have to ask. That was cute, though. I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy ask me that.”

“Well, you weren’t,” he muttered, willing his cheeks to cool down to no avail. “You weren’t grabbing me. I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

“No, baby, you did nothing wrong,” you assured, biting your lip. Wait? Baby? The mixed signals were making his head spin.

“Did you just call me Brucie?” he asked. Maybe he misheard you and you were teasing him again.

“No, I… never mind,” you said, and it was your turn to blush. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Right,” he said sarcastically. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll like it. I think? I don’t know. I doubt you’ve been here. My mom used to take me here when she was alive,” you told him. “It’s far enough away, and it’s not really peak season yet. I don’t think we’ll see anybody. Any guesses?”

“I truly have no idea,” he admitted.

“Peak season? No?” you asked and he shook his head. “I’m taking you apple picking. I mean, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to…”

“I’ll go,” he said quickly. “Anywhere is good.”

“Good. I wanted fresh apples for the diner anyway.”

“Oh, so you’re going to use me for free labor?” he chided playfully.

“Mm. I’ll buy you an ice cream to make up for it.”

“No. Everything is on me today.”

“Bruce—"

“You need to save your money,” he said firmly. “You don’t want me to help you out, I can’t make you let me, but we go out, I’m paying.”

“But I—"

Bruce squeezed your hand. “I’m paying. It’s final. I’m not arguing about it.”

“Whoa, when did you get all assertive?” you asked.

“This is serious. You need to save everything you can. I have the funds to spare, anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“I… okay. Thank you,” you said.

“You’re welcome. How far away is this?”

“An hour. Good thing you like the music, huh?”

“And the company,” he said cheekily.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Hm. Smooth. What’s gotten into you today?”

“Nothing?”

Bruce didn’t do things like this, go out and pick fruit, he never did. Maybe he did when his parents were alive, but he rarely left the house without the suit except to see you. The cameras blinded him more than the light, but when he wasn’t in public the paparazzi had nothing to feed the rumor mills. No women, no men, no friends, no lovers. Workaholic, recluse, loner. Empty house, empty bed, empty life.

It was a hard lesson learned with Jeanette. Their relationship was more publicized than he would’ve liked, but she lived for the attention. It made it all the more difficult for him to end things with her - he knew there would be stories for weeks hypothesizing what led to their breakup. It was Bruce who pulled the trigger, who said, “I can’t do this anymore!” and Jeanette called him cold, sociopathic, left, and told anyone who would listen that he was a terrible boyfriend.

And maybe he was. Dating Jeanette wasn’t easy, to say the least. Rightfully, he was obsessed with her in his own quiet way, never knowing exactly how to show the emotions he felt so strongly. She didn’t like that; she wanted elaborate gestures, public displays of affection, and he never felt comfortable enough to do those things. Why didn’t she believe he loved her without parading around Gotham with her on his arm?

After their relationship ended, he stayed hidden, not wanting to be hounded by teen gossip magazines asking for details. And then… he decided he liked hiding, liked sleeping all day and waking up when the sun went down. It was worth the vitamin D deficiency and the resultant osteoporosis in his future. No one ever saw him, and if no one ever saw him, no one ever got the chance to look close enough to perceive him, either. It was funny, almost, the way the magazines wrote about him now. They had nothing to do except speculate.

The fact that he’d only left the house in recent memory to eat at your diner was a double-edged sword. It gave you the word-of-mouth reputation he wanted; as even Gordon said “hey, Bruce Wayne leaves his house for that food, so it must be good”. It got people talking about your restaurant, got people driving outside of Gotham to eat there. But it also gave the rumor mills something, something they hadn’t had in a while.

Granted, none of the mainstream media was going to be so blunt to suggest you were cheating on your husband with the hermit Bruce Wayne, at least not with that as their only ammo. That’d be a libel suit if there ever was one. Still… he imagined the more underground anonymous gossip sites were speculating.

But because of this, you got it. You didn’t want the exposure, either. Your life would be derailed if people started to think you were fucking him. Dave would actually kill you.

Which would explain why if you liked him, really liked him enough to commit the sin, you’d be wary. Whoever you cheated on Dave with before likely did not have the status to precede him, and you still got caught and it made Dave’s ire even more of a force to be reckoned with.

But fuck him. Maybe he should have treated his wife better if he didn’t want other men to touch her.

Bruce couldn’t think about Dave for long because the images always came back, images of Dave with bruises and lacerations and bleeding from multiple orifices and on his knees puking from the pain, the pain that Bruce caused him. Served him fucking right. His graying hair ripped from his scalp, his cold blue eyes gouged out of their sockets, every inch of his skin and his expensive tailored suits covered in all of his various body fluids, blood and tears and vomit and shit and piss. His insides on the outside of his body, littering the ground, liters of blood spurting everywhere—

“What are you thinking about? You’re more quiet than usual and you’re squeezing my hand like, really hard,” you said, interrupting his nightmarish fantasy. What was stronger, here? His desire to commit the sin of lust or murder? Did he love you more than he hated Dave?

The fantasies alternated rapidly, sometimes, enough to make Bruce’s stomach turn from the oscillation, dreams of coming back to the diner to fuck you with Dave’s dried blood still on his own skin, his clothes, his hair, fucking everywhere. Licking his skin, you’d taste it, taste the victory and the sin, taste the metallic taste of your dead abuser’s blood mixed with the salty taste of your lover’s sweat…

You would be safe. You would be free. You would be loved.

But would he deserve to be loved in return if he killed somebody in cold blood, even if the somebody in question was a piece of shit? Maybe he should always keep the part of him that was Batman compartmentalized and far away from you. Maybe “Batty” would kill Dave, and you could always see him as Bruce: soft, emotional, tender. Not violent, scary or angry. You’d had enough of that.

“Bruce?” you said again, the edge of concern in your voice. “Are you okay?”

“What? Oh. Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, willing his mind to shut off. “I… I’m fine.”

“You… you kinda closed off there for a few minutes.”

“Yeah,” he said shakily. “Sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” he lied.

“That must be some daydream, then,” you said. “You were, like, in another world.”

“Sorry.”

“You really won’t spill?” you asked. “I’d love to know.”

“Yeah. Okay. It was you. You were happy,” he said simply, staring out the window.

“Yeah? I mean, I’m pretty happy right now,” you grinned. “We’re almost there. I hope you like it—“

“I mean permanently.”

“You mean I didn’t have to go back home to Dickhead Dave? Yeah. That’d be nice,” you said. “Too bad your daydreams aren’t reality.”

They could be. If you said the word he’d kill the motherfucker. Right then and there. That scared him, rightfully, how willing he was to take another person’s life at the beckoning of somebody else.

But you weren’t just somebody.

You slid your car into a parking spot, and everything was varying shades of green and brown and blue here behind a little brown building. There were trees as far as he could see and it was a beautiful clear day with only wisps of clouds littering the sky. Sometimes he ached to be outside during the day like he used to when he was little when he’d play hopscotch with his mother or learn how to ride a bike with his father. You caused him a sleep deficit but you brought him so much more. He hadn’t even stepped out of the car and smelled the crisp fall air and already his heart was swelling, threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispered to you as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“We haven’t even gotten out of the car yet,” you giggled, leaning over to unbuckle his. He took the opportunity to take your other hand in his too, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I know. But I never had anyone to bring me anywhere like this. Not that I can remember, anyway,” he said, his eyes meeting yours.

“Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry,” you said sympathetically, squeezing his hands. “It’s so hard, losing a parent. I can’t imagine if I lost my dad, too.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

“I was… I was thirteen. I’d like to say she didn’t suffer but I know she did. She had cancer and she… she wanted to fight, for me, you know, and I think she stayed here uncomfortable a lot longer than maybe she should have. All the drugs weren’t what they are today, and they kept trying everything and all the side effects… I don’t know. It was just awful, seeing her like that and knowing I was going to lose her any day and then I did… fuck. Sorry,” you said, blinking tears out of your eyes. “I shouldn’t be… I told myself I wasn’t going to ruin this by talking about her and crying. Fuck.”

“I want to listen,” he said gently. “You’re not ruining anything.”

“I… I think I want to leave it at that. Just, she really loved to garden and she loved the outdoors, loved to cook with things she grew. She always came here for apples, though, we couldn’t really have an apple tree on our apartment balcony. This was… yeah. We’d come here every season, sometimes twice a season. I still come every year.”

“Do you believe she’s watching?”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Sometimes I hope she’s not. But on days like today, when I come here, I wish she’d contact me if she could. Do you believe your parents are?”

“I’ve never felt their presence,” he admitted. “So I don’t know. I’d like to think they can watch even if they can’t talk to us.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Okay. You ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, letting go of your hands and exiting the car. There was a slight nip in the air when the wind blew, but the sun was still providing enough heat for it to be comfortable. He followed you to the building, coughing as you attempted to pay for the basket despite your previous conversation and pulling out his own wallet, handing her cash before you had the chance. The elderly woman at the register grinned and said something about what a keeper he was and you smiled back while he blushed.

“Busy today?” you asked.

“Nope. You came on a good day. Only seen one other couple,” she informed you. “Have fun. But not too much fun. Don’t want this to be a repeat of a few years ago, hm?”

“Sandy!” you hissed, blushing furiously. “We’re friends.”

“Isn’t that what you said the last time? I won’t tell anybody. He’s better looking than the last one.”

“You’re lucky my mother loved you,” you laughed, taking the basket with you and leading Bruce out of the building.

“What was she talking about?” he asked, catching up with you.

“Nothing,” you said quickly.

“Well… you know what it sounded like…”

“Not what happened. Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t bring you here to fuck you.”

Bruce stuttered, at a complete loss for words, blushing profusely. “I… what? I wasn’t—“

“Yeah. I’m wild, but not that wild,” you muttered. “My mother raised me better than to have public sex in the middle of an apple orchard.”

“Then what was she talking about?” he asked, beyond curious.

“Nothing. We just made out, got a little handsy… I’m not… Christ. You must think I’m some kind of slut,” you grimaced.

“No. Never,” he said. “Was it with Dave?”

“No. Oh, fuck that. Like he’d ever come here with me. No. Somebody else,” you said. “Yeah. I cheated on him. I’m the whore of Gotham, okay?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said gently. “It’s not like he loves you.”

You shrugged. “I’m still going to hell.”

“I’ll be right there with you,” Bruce said.

You looked over at him questioningly. “You cheated?”

“Well… no.”

“Then what are you going there for? You’re so… innocent.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah? Stick around.”

“Why? Because you fucked Jeanette? Because you thought about fucking other women? Because maybe you lied a couple of hundred times? Everyone fucks people before they get married and everyone thinks about fucking people they’re not married to and everybody lies. Not everybody actually cheats on their spouse.”

“Then we’re all going to hell. They’re all sins, right? God doesn’t seem to really differentiate on which is worse,” he said.

“Yeah, but like, as a society don’t we think cheating is worse than just fucking your girlfriend before you put a ring on it?” you asked.

“We also frown upon men hitting their wives more than cheating,” he pointed out.

“You saying it’s justified?” you asked testily. “Because he hits me, I can spread my legs for all of Gotham?”

“I—“

“Are you really going to answer that?” you asked, smirking, the hand that wasn’t holding the basket on your hip. Sometimes he didn’t know what to say to you or how to say it and you tended to lead conversations down paths he never walked with anybody. You were right - you were wild, only tamed by your fear of Dave and hell, maybe men in general now - and now that you were more comfortable with him, he was getting to see more of your untamed side. More of your impulses, the way you talked about sex bluntly and made him want to crawl out of his burning skin. Less than an hour ago the two of you were crying over your deceased parents and now you were discussing the morality of sex depending on when it occurred and who was involved. Wild.

He could see how you could make somebody forget about their reservations and damn-near ravish you in public. Forget about everything that wasn’t you, forget about the consequences, forget about the ring on your finger. You were glowing in the bright mid-afternoon sun, hair shining, dress fluttering. Blinding, even.

“Sorry. I got testy with you. Just uh, ignore all that,” you said, laughing it off. “Fuck. I’m a mess today. Coming here always screws with me.”

“You’re not a bad person. You just want to be loved.” And I want to love you. I do love you. Let me in.

You shrugged. “I’ve still fucked up. Bad. Anyway… we came here for apples, right, not to want to slit our wrists? Let’s go.”

“Okay,” he exhaled, letting you pull him by the arm, listening as you chattered about the different types of apples and what they were best used for, and what kinds you needed. Like flipping a switch, your mood was back to bubbly and lighthearted. Wild.

But that’s how you should be, free to speak your mind and have a quick wit and not be afraid of retaliation. Dave would never see you like this, unrestrained and untamed. And he didn’t deserve to.

You picked an apple off a tree, biting into it, a little juice slipping onto your chin that you quickly wiped with the back of your hand. You grinned wickedly at his shocked expression. “They can’t charge us for what we eat. This is retaliation for her slut shaming me,” you chuckled, then softened. “Sandy doesn’t mind. Seriously. Try these,” you said, handing him an apple from the same tree you picked yours.

Bruce eyed you cautiously but took it from you, bit into it, the sweet tartness erupting on his tongue as he chewed. “It is really good,” he said. “Can’t say I’ve ever had an apple right from the tree.”

“Yeah. City life is so fucking depressing sometimes. It should always be like this, you know? That’s why I didn’t want the diner right in Gotham. Might decrease traffic being on the outskirts, but I don’t know. I think sometimes people need an excuse to get out.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, biting into the apple again. He didn’t hate the city as much as you seemed to, but sometimes an escape was nice. Here, things were calm, safe, unpopulated.

He helped you fill up the baskets with apples, each of you eating a couple more, laughing at stupid jokes and what pictures you thought the clouds made in the sky. It was juvenile, maybe, but losing his parents made him have to grow up quick, so he didn’t mind taking back what he lost.

“Do you like it here?” you asked him.

“I do. I’m glad you brought me,” he told you.

“Good. I mean, like, I didn’t know if it was a weird idea but we always just kind of hang around the diner. I don’t like to come here alone, anyway.”

“I figured,” he quipped, smiling.

You squeezed his shoulder, the first physical contact in an hour. “You fucker. You’ve been spending too much time with me.”

“No such thing.”

“Two in a row? Goddamn,” you said, stopping in your tracks, so he followed suit, standing in front of you. He put the basket down, took yours, put it down, and tentatively he stepped closer to you and hugged you.

“Three in a row?” he questioned.

“No. Now you’re just being cute.”

“What would you have done, then?”

You pulled your head up from where it was resting on his shoulder. “Bruce. Bet you’d love to know. We’re friends, though. I can’t show you that,” you chuckled.

You were so close, your breath fanning his lips meanwhile he thinks he forgot how to breathe. His hand slipped under your hair, fingers on the nape of your neck. “You’re such a flirt,” he whispered.

“I shouldn’t be. I’m married,” you muttered. “I should know better.”

“I’m glad you don’t.”

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” you asked, leaning back a little to look into his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Fuck,” you exhaled against his lips. “Fuck.”

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I thought you—“

“I wish I could say yes and not feel like a piece of shit because Bruce, you have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now,” you muttered.

“So kiss me. You’re not a bad person—“

“I don’t want anything to happen to you. And I’m sorry for leading you on. It was shitty of me because I do really, really like you and I hope you can forgive me and we can still be friends, and I—"

Fuck it, he thought. Fuck. It. Why should you live your life in fear? He leaned down and kissed you deeply, your tears slipping onto his cheeks. You jerked away from him, turning your face, shrugging his hand from its place on your neck. In sheer desperation, Bruce grabbed for your arm and you skidded back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bruce, please,” you sniffled, mascara running down your cheeks. “Please. Don’t make this harder for me. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“Can… can I still hug you?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking back to him, letting him embrace you tightly. “I don’t like this any more than you do."

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “Don’t walk away. Please. I want you. Even if you’re a mess, even if you’re in a mess, I want you.”

You were hysterical, talking rapidly, your voice high and strained. “Bruce. I mean this. I’m sorry. We can’t. Please don’t make this harder for me. I lost so much the last time. If I lose you too, I… it’s better that I never had you. I don’t want him to hurt you. Please,” you wept into his shirt.

“He won’t hurt me. I can promise you that,” he assured you, smoothing your hair with his hand.

“You can’t, Bruce. I’ve heard all of it before. And it’s nice to hear, don’t get me wrong but I’m risking my life just by having one. I’m not letting you risk yours, too. If we can’t see each other anymore, then fine. I’m not having you die because of me.”

“If I can’t see you, I might as well die,” he murmured, his eyes welling up.

You struggled against his embrace and he eventually loosened his grip, letting you take a few steps back. “That’s not fucking fair to say. You have to know that.”

“I don’t mean… no. I didn’t mean it like that. Jesus,” he said, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “Christ, I sound like a selfish motherfucker. Can you tell I don’t do this often? Fuck me. Of course, you can walk away right now. You have every right in the world. If you don’t want me, that’s fine and I get it. I’m not going to off myself if that’s what you decide, fuck. That isn’t what I meant to say.”

“Then what the fuck does that mean?”

“When’s the last time I’ve been out of my house except to see you? I don’t even fucking know. Christ. The point was you make me feel alive, like an actual fucking human being who exists and goes out when the sun is out, and I… I don’t want to lose that,” he said, wiping his eyes quickly as he shed a few tears. “I don’t want to go back to the way things were and I don’t think you do either. You’re happy — we’re happy — when we’re together. Right?”

“Yes,” you muttered, reaching for his face, and wiping your thumbs under his eyes. “Don’t cry, Bruce. Fuck.”

“I want to be together,” he said, cupping your face in his hands. “You make my world brighter. You do. I want you.”

“But this isn’t right.”

“It’s not right for him to hit you,” Bruce growled. “That’s what isn’t fucking right. You deserve to take what happiness you can get and if I can provide any of that, I want to.”

“What if he—“

“It’s not going to be like last time. You have somebody who’s watching out for you. You have the lenses.”

“But you don’t. What if he—“

“Then I’ll get some. Whatever happened the last time, it won’t happen to me. I promise.”

“Bruce—“

“Don’t walk away. Please.”

“You make it so fucking hard to do the right thing, you know that, Bruce? Fuck. I should walk back to my car and drive you back to the diner and never… never see you again. Right? That’s what I should do. That’s the right thing to do.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Not what you should do.”

“I want… I want to have sex with you in the middle of the apple orchard,” you said, trying to fight the grin that was pulling at your lips.

“Are you… are you serious?” he asked anxiously.

“No. I mean, yes, I would, but we definitely should not do that and I think you almost had a heart attack at me suggesting that,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his. “I want to be with you, though. I want to write shitty love poems to each other. I want to fuck you. But yeah. Right now, I want to kiss you.”

“So kiss me,” he whispered, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his and it was slow at first but then you were pulling, pulling, pulling at everything, his hair, the back of his neck, the front of his shirt. You kissed him with the same fiery intensity you do everything, making him weak in the knees, making him whimper, making him reach for you in return.

“How fitting, an apple orchard of all places, hm?” you said breathlessly against his mouth. “I have to stop taking guys here. I’m sick of playing Eve.”

“Well… now you’ve got to stop taking guys here,” he said, smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to be the last one you bring here to seduce.”

“Do you?” you teased, kissing him again. He could hardly believe this moment was real, everything felt woozy, too bright, too warm.

“Yeah.”

“Mm. To be fair, I think you did a fair amount of seducing yourself.”

“Who said Adam was innocent?”

“Men,” you laughed.

“Well, I’m taking full responsibility.”

“So unlike the rest of your sex.”

“Adam wanted a taste just as much as Eve,” he said, letting you pull him back for another long, languid kiss. “We’re going to make it.”

“Yeah?” you questioned. “What’s the plan?”

“You’ll get a divorce… and then you can move in with me. Hide with me, never answer a reporter’s question again,” he said, but there was a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It wasn’t going to be this simple. The second you filed divorce papers Dave would become even more of a monster, and who knew if he would sign them? And you didn’t know the lies Bruce had told you, the hours he’d spent with you where he didn’t show you his face. Would you want to move in with him when you found out? Could you tell it was the same lips you kissed before?

You just kissed him again and didn't respond verbally. Fair enough. Talking would hurt, and you'd both spent more than half a year ignoring the sexual tension between the two of you. Pulling him closer, squeezing his shoulders, pushing your tongue into his mouth there was too much to focus on and he felt like maybe Adam did feel when he first bit the fruit, overwhelmed and dazed, but more alive, too. In spite of God. The first people God created spat in his face and said "I don't want complacency, I don't want safety, I want knowledge". And weren't we all almost better for it?

You still tasted like apples, sweet, sour, sticky, sticking to his skin just like he wanted you to, and you were shrugging his jacket off his shoulders, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails digging into the flesh of his lower back, strangled, desperate noises escaping his lips into yours.

"I told you I'd be right there with you," Bruce whispered.

NEXT CHAPTER

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #the batman 2022 #the batman

[beespeaks]

Just in case...

Stu Macher X Reader 

Stu gets nervous before his party and decides to come see you in case anything goes wrong...

Aged up characters in college/uni

Tags: Swearing, mentions of murder, character death, basic Scream plot with added character and it’s in college though that’s not mentioned, Making out, angst

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, major character death

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed, book in hand, trying to process the day. Casey Becker and Steve Orth had been murdered the night before, and if you were being honest, that scared you. From what everyone had said at school and what you had heard on the news, it had been a pretty violent death too. You didn’t understand who could ever do something like that and why? What could have possibly possessed someone to do that? It wasn’t right. 

You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the book in your hands but you couldn’t shake the fear swirling in your belly. You were home alone and that just made it worse. You usually craved the nights your parents would go away and leave you alone, but tonight you wished there was someone else here with you. 

Stu was having a party tonight, and he pointedly didn’t invite you which just made you feel worse. In fact, he went out of his way to uninvite you and tell you not to come. You weren’t sure why he didn’t want you there or what you had done to upset him, but you pretended you didn’t care, laughing it off like it was no big deal. You hated parties anyway. 

A tapping on your bedroom window pulls you away from your thoughts and the neglected book in your hands. There was silence for a second as panic mounted in your gut and then you saw another flash against the window. Someone was throwing something at your window. The only person who ever did that was Stu. You hoped. 

Shakily, you padded across the floor to the window and peaked out into the night. It was hard to make out anything much but when you saw another flash against the glass, you knew it was Stu. This flash was green. He was throwing Skittles again. When you had asked him why, he said they were more fun than pebbles.

You sigh and slide the cool glass up the frame and peer out just as a red Skittle goes flying past your head into your bedroom. 

“Fuck!” Stu curses. “Sorry!” He stands on the pavement outside, a sheepish look on his face. He’s hunched in on himself, almost like he’s cold. 

“Can I come in?” He calls, his voice sounds strange and yet it still comforts you just like it always has. You shut the window and run down to let him in, trudging back up the stairs before he even gets in the door and refusing to look at him. Just because you hadn’t planned on going to that party, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that he didn’t want you there. 

Your bedroom is cold when you return and it feels smaller with Stu leaning against the doorframe behind you. 

“Y/N.” Stu starts and you turn around to look at him. He looks conflicted and small somehow, even considering his tall frame. Something is definitely bothering him and you want to ask what it is. You don’t though, something tells you that you don’t want to know. 

“Why wasn't I invited to your party?” You ask instead, you decide you can ask him about it tomorrow. Stu looks surprised by your question, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that it would bother you. Part of you thinks that’s sweet. 

“You don't want to come. Trust me.” Something dark laces his words but you brush it off, choosing instead to let his words irritate you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. 

“How do you know? I might have wanted to.” Stu smiles slightly but his eyes still won’t meet yours, he keeps them trained on his shoes. 

“It sucks. You would hate it.” He murmurs and you scoff. 

“So, that’s why you’re here then, your party sucked so you thought you’d come and annoy me. How did you know I wouldn't have plans? I could have gone out tonight despite the curfew.” You almost yell. Stu is one of your best friends and there is defiantly something more there, but he always treated you like a second choice. A backup plan. He was always off with Tatum - his actual girlfriend, or Billy Loomis. The only times he ever had time for you was when no one else was around. You were sick of being a secret. 

Stu sighs at your outburst and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m glad you were home.” He whispers. It’s quiet, you almost miss it but it changes something. All the anger and hurt you had been holding onto vanishes and you finally take a proper look at the blonde boy in front of you. 

The usual loud, goofy idiot is quiet and he looks like he might break any second. He’s standing as close to the doorframe as he can, like he needs to it to hold himself up. His eyes are on anything but you and even from here you can see his breathing is uneven. 

“Stu? What’s wrong?” Taking steps towards him, you reach your hand out and touch his shoulder. He flinches slightly before leaning into your touch. “Stu, look at me.” You keep your voice low and soft, like you're talking to a frightened animal. Shaking his head a few times he turns his head slowly to you. His blue eyes are scared and sad and something else that breaks your heart. Now that he’s finally looking at you, his resolve starts to crumble. You were always the one thing that could break down his defenses. You were the one person he never had to pretend with. You were his safe place. 

“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice breaks and then he’s crying, almost hysterically. Deep, laboured breathes and attempts to stop. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug as fast as you can, wanting to make him feel even a little better as soon as you can. 

His arms wrap around you instantly, his face buried in your neck as he sobs. He’s shaking and digging his nails into your back but you don’t care. You have no idea what it is that could have him this upset. Stu has always been sensitive and he’ll cry at any sad movie the two of you watch, but even you’ve never seen him like this. 

“It’s okay, Stu. It’s okay.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his temple. He doesn’t tell you, but this is all he needed. All he ever needed. 

He does whisper something into the crook of your neck though. You don’t catch what it is until he pulls himself away from you to look into your eyes. He swears your eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His own eyes are still red and filled with tears. 

“I love you.” He whispers and you gasp softly. If he had told you this any when else, you would have called bullshit and told him there were easier ways for him to get laid than fucking with your emotions. But the look in his eyes and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, you can’t believe it’s a lie. You also can’t lie to him. 

“I love you, too.” 

His lips are on you before the words are even fully out of your mouth. A passionate, heated kiss filled with unspoken words and over a year of holding yourselves back. Your hands grip in his hair and his knead at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You cling to each other like you don’t need anything in the world as much as you need this, like he’s the oxygen you’ve been craving, like you’re the rain after the longest drought. 

The two of you move backwards and fall down onto the bed, never letting go of each other. He’s on top of you now and his lips are traveling to your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses and whispers of ‘I love you’ over and over again. You whisper it back every time. Even if you don’t know why he’s falling apart, you know that’s what he needs to hear to keep him together. 

Just as his lips are back on yours, softer and slower now but still as passionate as before, you hear a ringing. Stu pulls back and curses as he pulls a cellular telephone from his back pocket. He looks defeated and scared again. 

He doesn't answer the phone, just switches it off and slips it in his back pocket with a sigh. You don’t know why, but you know he’s about to leave. Maybe it was Tatum. She is his girlfriend after all. The reminder pangs in your chest. 

Stu’s blue eyes meet yours and you can’t find it in you to ask about Tatum or push him away like you should when he kisses you again. Softly and sadly. A kiss full of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and something that feels like goodbye. 

He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and just breathe in your familiar, comforting scent for a moment longer. 

“I love you.” He whispers before getting up and leaving the room. He doesn’t look back.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night and your friend Randy recalls the events of Stu’s party, you collapse onto the floor as everything clicks into place in ways you really wish it wouldn’t. It felt like goodbye, because it was. 

Stu Macher was dead and you were always going to think about the fact that you saw him last. You could have stopped him, if you had just asked him one more time if he was okay. Just one more time and he might have told you what was happening. One more time and he might still be here.

At least now you knew why you weren’t invited to  his party.

#stu matcher x reader #stu macher #scream #scream 1996 #Stu Macher fic #Scream fic #Scream rewrite #billy loomis #fanfic #my writing #my fic #angst #angst without a happy ending #tw character death #tw murder mention #tw death mention #stu macher x you #stu macher x y/n #Stu macher x GN!Reader #GN reader #slasher #horror #horror movie #slasher movie #scream franchise #🥧 #🍦 #scream fanfiction #reader insert #writing

[mishasminion360]

To Celebrate You

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff; mentions of cancer. Reader is a cancer survivor.

Summary: Your birthday’s just another day, so you never see the need to celebrate. Your boyfriend is another story. He just can’t resist an opportunity to shower you with some extra special love.

A/N: This was a super special birthday request from my dearest @hb8301. I hope this little gift brings you joy on your big day 😊

Most people who beat the big C spend the rest of their days celebrating, having gained a new lease on life and living all the forthcoming days as if any one could be their last. You on the other hand just wanted to ease back into life as usual. After a year of chemotherapy and tests and surgeries and side effects, you just wanted to feel as normal as possible. That meant not overdoing the little things.

Your man, however, is the king of overdoing.

Frankie has seriously outdone himself this time. The entire living room is adorned with enough strands of twinkle lights to start a fire. He’s assembled a blanket/pillow fort in front of the television, the perfect set up for a movie and maximum cuddle fest.

“Frankie, not that this isn’t sweet, but I told you I just wanted to keep it low key.”

“That’s why we’ll be chilling here this evening instead of painting the town red.”

“You know I’m not that into celebrating my birthday.”

“Which is why I need to get just as stoked for the both of us.”

He waves you into the kitchen and pulls your chair out, motioning for you to have a seat at the table.

“Now if you’d be so kind, mi amor, dinner awaits.”

He’s made your favorite dish—to the best of his ability. Tonight will be a night of favorites, no doubt. Favorite dinner, favorite dessert, favorite film. All of it lovingly provided by your favorite man.

“Frankie you outdid yourself. Really. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble. Not for me.”

“My God, how can a person be so adverse to birthdays. It’s not every day one turns the big 3-9. You deserve this. So quit your fussing, would ya?”

“For you, Frankie,” you say with a defeated grin and a roll of your eyes. “For you I will grin and bear it.”

“That’s all I ask, love.”

After you’ve stuffed yourself to your heart’s (and stomach’s) content, he ushers your into the expertly crafted fort and pops in the flick before unveiling the smorgasbord of snacks he’s amassed.

“We’ve got popcorn, Sour Patch Kids, Snow Caps, Twizzlers, Skittles—“

“Frankie, if I eat another bite I’m going to explode.”

“Would you settle for a bit of birthday cake then?”

“Oh, Frankie, you’ve already done so much. You didn’t have to get a cake, too.”

“Nothing extravagant, I assure you.”

He reaches behind one of the skillfully placed pillows and offers you a small white box, watching intently as you peel back the lid.

Your stomach doesn’t explode, but your heart nearly does. It’s the most beautiful cupcake you’ve ever seen. Well, not the confection itself, but rather the diamond ring stuck into the frosting, the jewel winking up at you in the twinkling lights.

“You don’t call this extravagant?” you sniffle happily.

He extracts the ring and quickly licks the frosting from the delicate band, taking your hand in his.

“Honey, I know you don’t see your birthday as a cause for celebration, but to me it is one of the greatest days in the world. Because it’s the day you came into this world, and each of the other 364 I thank God that you did.”

Frankie’s eyes grow a little damp and yours have already overflowed.

“For awhile there, after your diagnosis, I wasn’t sure how many more birthdays you were going to see. I wanted to go all out tonight because, baby, I am just so grateful that you got to see this one. That you’ll get to see so many more. And, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be by your side to welcome your fortieth, your forty first, your sixtieth, your hundredth.”

He hoists himself off of the floor so that he can kneel properly.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

You nod with a laugh and watch the grin that pulls its way across his face.

“Yes. God yes, you big, romantic dork.”

Frankie slides the ring into place on your finger before attacking your lips with his own. You topple over, ensnared in each other’s embrace, capsizing bowls of popcorn and candy that you’ll clean up later but ignore for now.

“Frankie?”

“Yes, love?”

“This is my best birthday ever.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @mandolydian @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @pastel-0-princess @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @kiizhikehn-cedar @hellovanessax @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @feralhotmess @axshadows @mandapascal @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @anaaaispunk @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @alberta-sunrise @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @tanzthompson @bison-writes @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20

#pedro pascal #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales and reader #triple frontier #birthday #fluff

[river-bottom-nightmare]

the batfam + food

because i don’t have the time or the energy to actually write, but i do have the inspiration, so here we go

damian: can cook pretty well but only if it’s in a recipe. if you set him loose in a kitchen he’ll be lost, but give him instructions and he’ll make a meal that’s pretty decent. he’s got some old recipes that martha wrote that he likes making with alfred there to guide him. he also has a couple of recipes that talia gave him, ones that the cook in the loa base where he grew up made. “of course i can make cahā tf you talking about” and then is horrified to discover he actually can’t because the cook always made it and he never bothered to learn but now he can’t drink cahā the way he likes and it’s a tragedy.

tim: “come on guys please frozen hot pockets with marshmallow fluff, gummy bears, and hot sauce on top is good just try it!” he puts skittles in pancake batter and he puts cool whip in canned chicken noodle soup and he eats pineapple pizza only when there’s tartar sauce on it. the rest of the family are completely sure his sense of taste is destroyed beyond saving. the funny thing is, he grew up eating nice and proper foods his nanny would make him when his parents were away, and those simple meals were what he learned to cook too. he also ate those bland, tasteless little meals at whatever function or party he was dragged to. he used to be very upper class white american. but now, his palette is possibly the most disgusting thing to ever exist and that is entirely because of one Bart Allen.

cass: slices open a guava, sprinkles some salt and paprika on top, then monchity cronches. she likes fresh fruits and veggies, partly because there’s no preparation required, partly because fresh and organic foods weren’t a luxury she was afforded and she loves it now. she prefers snacking in little periods all throughout the day rather than having three big meals. and by “snacking” i mean celery with ranch, or popping grapes in her mouth, or sometimes even goat cheese. so it’s either farm fresh produce or the greasiest, most disgusting fast food meal to ever exist, there’s no in between.

jason: brings tears of joy and pride to alfred’s eyes. he just knows his way around a kitchen. his spinach-ricotta-chicken lasagna is a thing of beauty. his muffins will make bruce behave like an actual dad for an afternoon. he knows how to make do with the ingredients he has, and create something incredible out of them. cooking with alfred had been the thing that really convinced him he was a part of the family back when he was robin, and it’s the thing that brings him back when he’s red hood. its,,,,,relaxing in a sense. he’s not real good at art like damian or photography like tim. he’s honestly a little uncomfortable in his body and not at all graceful like cass, doesn’t know how to even begin turning movement and dance into a work of art like dick. but it feels nice to create something rather than destroy. so, cooking it is.

dick: health nut. no. shut up. he’s an aerialist and an acrobat, he knows damn well how important it is to monitor what goes in your body. also, he grew up in a traveling circus. get your lucky charms and cereal addiction out of here. no way in hell. dick thinks homemade poke bowls with chicken and brown rice are a good lunch. (actually that really does sound like a good lunch and i’m hungry rn). avocados all. the. time. because he tried them that one time the circ toured ecuador and never grew out of them. he made sure to learn simple but good recipes, and uses them often, like marinating some shrimp in mediterranean spices for half an hour and frying them on a cast-iron skillet, and eating them with rice. or smoothies with whatever fruit’s in season, greek yogurt, and oats. i am literally describing my diet oh my god.

bruce: a disgrace. a Fool. you can drop him in the middle of nowhere and he’ll be able to survive by eating the bare essentials, but dear god if he didn’t have alfred it would’ve been takeout every day and every night for the rest of his life. he can’t even follow instructions on a ramen noodle cup. he can’t cook because he never had to, he never had to learn, and he doesn’t really plan on learning anytime in the near future. 

alfred: he is god. he is the god of the kitchen. he knows so many recipes, and if he doesn’t, it takes him one try to learn. he is the deity except when it comes to pies. i mean, his pies would win baking contests under normal conditions. but pies are the one thing that martha kent can make better than him, and it infuriates alfred to no end.

this actually got long so i’m tagging the babes: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @dangerduckjpeg @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog

#scribbles from the swamp #damian wayne #robin #tim drake #red robin #casssandra cain #black bat #batgirl #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #alfred pennyworth #batfam #dc #damian wayne headcanon #robin headcanon #tim drake headcanon #red robin headcanon #cassandra cain headcanon #black bat headcanon #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #dick grayson headcanon #nightwing headcanon #bruce wayne headcanon #batman headcanon #alfred pennyworth headcanon

[talking-about-bug-snacks]

MELTY SNAKPOD

I never did get to come to a conclusion on whether Snakpod eyes are meant to look cheeky or not, but with Melty Snakpod, there is certainly some cheekery afoot!

This Snakpod is based on M&Ms, and their iconic candy coating is there to help them “melt in your mouth, not in your hands”. Does it really do that, though? No, it does not! Now there’s just a colorful candy shell to melt in your hand instead. And so, this Snakpod is indeed Melty, though living in the cold would help with that.

Melty Snakpod has a lot in common with Grumpy Snakpod, being colorful candy-based Snakpods, and thinner than the others, as candy bags tend to be. I quite like this packaging! It is so colorful, and that would maybe make me expect fruit flavor, if not for the presence of brown.

This has me thinking about the package design here. It’s very original! The standard M&M packaging is mostly brown, but Melty Snakpod is a gentle light blue under the candy design.

I have found that there is a variety of M&Ms with a bag that color, which is the Crunchy Cookie kind, and while Melty Snakpod is certainly just an original design and not based on this, gee! This is strange. M&Ms based on the cookies with M&Ms in them, and now it is cookie that is in the M&M. Is it good? I have no idea, but Ms. Green, Most Beautiful Woman In The World, seems to think so, so who are we to think otherwise?

This ended up being a post all about M&Ms, but you know what, that’s okay. It was kind of inevitable with a snak as specific as this. Something fun I noticed is that Melty Snakpod’s candy pieces don’t have letters printed on them like the real thing, and obviously, they could not have an M, for Melty. They also could not have an S, for Snakpod, because Skittles already did that! I guess it would be B for Bugsnax, but the letter is not entirely necessary, anyway. Bugsnax don’t know what letters are!

#melty snakpod #bugsnax #talkin bout bugsnax