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talaok · 2 months

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Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror,

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too"

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-"

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you,

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you"

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

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hairmetal666 · 2 months

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He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #angst #but not really though?#hate sex #but only kind of?#idiots in love #smut #i really don't know what this is #it just kind of happened #i thought of Eddie listing things he hated about Steve and it all poured out #this is very i hate the way i don't hate you not even close not even a little bit not even at all #it wasn't an intentional 10 things homage

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trashmouth-richie · 5 months

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i had a filthy dream last night that inspired this, enjoy

smut, 18+ only; eddie x you steve x you

you were nestled in eddie’s lap, neck full of hickeys and slicked with spit, his curls tickling the tops of your breasts, big hands on the fat of your ass.

steve was behind you, nibbling on skin, his broad nose rubbing against your hair line behind your ear, whispering nothing but filth.

“you ready for him sweet girl?” eddie purred into your neck, locking eyes with steve.

—

it was your first thanksgiving as a couple with eddie, and when the phone rang with a heartbroken steve on the other end, there was no way you could have imagined it would end up like this.

but you graciously opened up your home for the night for steve, filling wine glasses to the brim and making yourself scarce so your bf and his bestfriend could talk out steve’s love life woes.

steve had always been a flirt towards you, a little too friendly kisses on the cheek in greeting that soon led to linger hugs, him pressing your body flush to his.

eddie didn’t mind, almost always encouraging it, always showing you off, look at my girl stevie she’s fucking gorgeous isn’t she? steve would lick his lips with a haunted expression on his face before he excused himself from the room.

after a few bottles of wine and a heart to heart between the two guys, steve sat wide legged on the couch, eyes glazed over in a hooded drunk expression, watching your every move.

after checking on the turkey, and wiping your hands off on the emerald apron wrapped around your waist, steve patted the couch cushion next to him, beckoning you to come and sit down.

he sighs, shifting further into the couch and you pat his leg eyes looking up to him in remorse. nancy was your friend too, and you couldn’t believe she would do that to him.

“you can stay with us as long as you need, you’re always welcome here steve.” eyes brimming with tears as he smiles tiredly down at you, the knit cables on his brown sweater matching his eyes.

he smiles warmly, and looks down to the way your skirt has ridden up on your thighs, the garter set you wore for eddie now on display for anyone to see, and you sheepishly start to yank your skirt down before steve’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

your heart is in your throat and you absentmindedly lick your lips, looking up at steve through your lashes.

he dips closer to you, nose brushing your own.

“you don’t have to hide those pretty thighs from me, honey.”

your stomach feels like it’s going to bottom out. steve was handsome in a boy next door type of way, you drunkenly admitted that to eddie once and he never let you forget it, not in a mean way, but in a way that made you think given the opportunity, steve could be your third.

but that would never happen. because steve was with nancy. besides the shameless flirting was just playful, harmless. it meant nothing.

his fingers move up your thigh, fingering the lace of the black set on your legs, letting them go with a snap.

“y’know…eddie’s cool with this if you are.”

suddenly your mouth was dry and your pussy was wet.

eddie turned around the corner from the kitchen, a pickle crunched loud between his teeth and he looks at you, a devil smirk on his lips.

“this what you want sweet girl? i think our poor guest deserves some company, don’t you?” another pickle snaps between his teeth, his smile broadens when your thighs push together in a clench.

“think we got our answer munson.”

steve’s nose brushes the underside of your chin, kissing your neck in sweet sweeps of his lips, a tickle of his tongue. his hands grab your hip, pulling you towards him.

it was all moans and smacks of lips against hot flesh, your shirt came off in a flash and your fingers were wrapped in steve’s hair, his lips pressed to yours bruisingly sweet.

eddie stood and watched, coaching steve on the way you liked to be kissed, the right position to get you off, and then he joined in.

it was too much, the familiar touch if eddie and the new sting of steve.

“listen big boy, her pussy is mine, but that ass is all yours.” eddie instructed, having switched positions with steve so you were now straddling his hips.

you moaned into his mouth, barely able to keep yourself still when you heard the zip of steve’s pants coming undone, you had ridden his lap for almost a half hour, your pussy was clenched around his clothed cock and you knew it was big, big as thick as eddie’s but longer.

eddie’s hands spread your ass cheeks wide, and steve spit on your waiting hole.

“i’ll go slow honey, okay?” he murmured kissing your temple.

“she can handle it, this nasty girl loves her ass stuffed, don’t you baby?” eddie grunts, grinding you down into his lap, trying to pull another orgasm for you before steve has is way with you.

the mushroom top of steve’s cock presses heavy on your hole and you’re mewling for him, gasping when he pushes in further, eddie’s hands holding you open and steady for steve’s cock.

“so fuckin’ tight,” steve groans, “goddamn.”

it takes a few mins for you to adjust to his length, but when you finally do, eddie shoves his own cock into your slippery slick and your cock drunk on them both, full to the hilt, nothing but breathy moans and sweat slicked bodies sliding together between the three of you.

they move in tandem, taking it slow at first and then faster, you’re whimpering and moaning, clit red and banded from eddie’s and your fingers. steve’s bite marks on your shoulder.

when they come eddie yells out, and steve practically tears bites a hole through his lip, telling you how you’re so fucking good for them.

when you wake you’re in your own bed, eddie holding you, your forehead pressed into his chest, steve’s lips snug against your back.

it was the happiest thanksgiving you’ve ever had. burnt turkey and all.

s/o to lexapro for the wildest dreams on the planet

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #steve x you #steve harrington smut #throuple #steddie #stevie x you #steve harrington fanfic

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uhohdad · 8 months

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HIS

Another Stalker!Konig x Reader Fic

Summary: Konig has an unhealthy obsession with you. AO3

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Masturbation, Abusive Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, No use of y/n

He had officially lost control over himself.

Konig knew he’d been a little off. Maybe even borderline perverted - but he’s always been good at keeping his darker desires buried with all the other horrific thoughts and traumatic memories that come with his career choices. He was good at that, repressing the difficult things and pushing forward. A soldier has to be.

But you.

You brought it out of him.

It was all your fault, really. You were coaxing the corruption from him, undoing years of rigorous training and discipline.

Not that you were aware. Konig made very sure of that. There were a lot of close calls, too. Decisions he had made out of pure impulse. It’s your fault. He can’t think straight when you’re around, he loses control over himself.

He knows he should quit you. Logically, rationally - he knows this isn’t good for him. It’s not good for you. It’s just not healthy. He should quit you, cold turkey. Forget every little detail he’s learned about you. Stop following you around. Let you free.

He’s tried.

Every time he sees you around base, his gaze is held captive by those beautiful eyes and that silky head of hair, you steal his breath. It’s like he’s lived his entire life in the cruel cold and you were a roaring fire of warmth he’s never known. Your warmth pooled in his chest and spread through his limbs and he could feel you burning beneath his skin. It ignites the complex and dark feelings and he’s convinced that it’s destiny that put you here. That the world was giving you to him on a silver platter.

That you’re his.

Who would be there to watch over you, to protect you? Who will make sure you get back to your quarters safe every night? Who will make sure that the fresh recruits won't get too handsy with you? Who will keep a watchful eye on you in the field - such a small delicate little thing doing such a dangerous job.

But most importantly - who will worship you, like you deserve to be worshiped?

He’s never interacted with you. You probably don't even know he exists. On the surface, he'd say it's because he's nervous. That it’s normal for a guy to avoid a pretty girl. But he knows that it's really because he has to protect you from himself. That he's just an oozing cesspool of unresolved emotional baggage with atrcosious desires. He can't let you too close, no. Doesn't want to hurt you, to dull your light in anyway. He doesn't trust himself with you. Can't control himself around you, throwing caution to wild. He’s afraid of what he's capable of doing to you. What he wants to do to you.

You were his. You just didn't know it yet.

——————————————————————

Friday night was difficult for Konig, as it usually was. It was easy to follow you around base, so convenient that you had both worked together. He was supposed to be there, shielded with plausible deniability and equipped with home field advantage.

A more casual environment was a challenge for him. He didn't exactly blend in among the locals. It's difficult for him - to juggle the harsher risk of getting caught following you around town as opposed to base, while also crippled by his large stature.

At least the team was getting inebriated tonight, it's easier to go unnoticed when everyone’s too drunk to be fully aware of their surroundings.

Watching you have a good time sparks conflicting feelings for Konig. He loves to see that radiant smile. Usually you're so modest, always a polite smile, never letting your face warp. The beer, though, turns your insecurities to ash and your cheeks a rosy blush - you don't seem to hold back as much. Your smile is toothy and face-wrinkling, so genuine, it makes Konig feel like he can't breathe, eyes locked on to you like he's frozen in time. He knows he's not worthy of that smile, but he wants it.

It should be him making you smile like that.

He can hear your laugh from his booth in the dimmest corner of the dingy bar if he tilts his head just right, and listens carefully. Drown out the over-the-top music and incessant pub chatter. He could get intoxicated off your laugh, unrestricted and fueled by the alcohol. It makes him feel so warm to hear your authentic laugh.

It should be him making you laugh like that.

He loves seeing you enjoy yourself, he does. He wants nothing more than to see you happy and he works hard to do so.

And yet you give your joy away to others, - not the polite smiles and fake laugh you dull down for others - the real ones. The ones that come from deep within and give breath to any room you're in. Giving them away freely, and to who? Your co-workers? Your acquaintances?

Over what? A cheap joke?

He bets that it wasn't even funny. Not that you didn't have a good sense of humor, no, he loved your sense of humor.

It’s just... did you really have to rub it in?

You didn't see it, but you really did have the power to make a room so much more livelier. Konig hates not being in the same room as you. And he hates that in most rooms you're in, those hard-headed jocks from 141 followed. You'd been indoctrinated quickly. He can't blame you, you're naive, trusting, still new. You're quick, though, you’ll learn soon enough. You didn't see them for what they really were yet.

Not worthy of you.

Not worthy of your perfect laugh and radiant smile and quick wit and sharp field skills.

He despised that they get a front row seat and he has the wait in the shadows for scraps, working incredibly hard to lap up the leftovers of what you give out to them for free.

Konig gave a long exhale under his breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly as he tried to will away the vitriol boiling under his skin. He felt himself slipping away to that depraved place and he had to ground himself.

You had that effect on him, making him lose control.

When Soap throws his arm around you, and you don't even seem to notice or care, lost in the story you're telling, your hands waving along with your excited tone, Konig thinks he's about to lose his mind. It feels like you've stabbed him, liebe, why are you letting this happen? Why aren't you shaking his stupid hand off your shoulder and giving him a scowl so powerful he’d never dare to do it twice?

Why are you still laughing and smiling and carrying on when Soap is touching something that belong to him?

When you finish telling a story that Konig is sure was brilliant and wonderful and perfect, Soap leans in inches from your face to whisper something to you. Konig can't read his lips, can't understand what he's whispering in your ear as he half-way embraces you.

Your eyebrows pull as you focus on his hushed voice over the commotion of the bar. Recognition floods you and a cheeky smile creeps across your face.

Konig’s nails are digging into his palms. His mind is racing and that bitter taste in his mouth turns his lips into a scowl.

He watches as you both stand and Soap finally removes his arm from you, finally. It was draped over your delicate shoulders much too long for his liking.

Where are you two headed, though? Off to the bathroom so he can seduce you while you're inibriated? Going to sneak you out of the pub while the rest of the team is distracted, just to push you up against some dingy alleywall, not able to resist another moment without knowing what it's like to kiss your lips?

Or, God help him, what if it wasn't the first time? What if you had already kissed him?

How long has this been going on, right under his nose?!

Konig’s slipping again, his thoughts running from him. Upon realizing he hasn't taken a breath this whole time he forces a few deep inhales, nostrils flared in uncontrollable rage.

This is your fault, you know.

A wave of relief floods him when you two stop at the bar, squeezing between the stools of the counter as you attempt to flag a bartender.

When the bartender notices you both, Soap’s hand finds your shoulder again, holding on for just a little too long as he relays your drink order to the bartender.

That should be him getting you a drink.

That should be him with his hand on your shoulder.

You and Soap are smiling as you chat, he can't hear what about, but Konig is hoping it’s just alcohol that’s to blame for your flushed cheeks.

The bartender returns with your drinks and yet you two linger by the counter, continuing your one-on-one conversation. What’s so great about him, huh? Why aren’t you two returning to the group?

He watched as you press the plastic cup to your lips and take a sip of your drink, eyes trained on Soap as he obnoxiously holds you in conversation. He hates that about the 141 boys. It’s easier for Konig when you’re all in a group, but it always seems like those boys all want their private moment with you.

He knows he can’t blame them, of course they want to talk to you. They can see your light just like Konig can. Liebe, you just don’t understand, they don’t have good intentions with you. They want to control you, dim you, ruin you.

It should be him ruining you.

Breathe. He has to breathe. Through gritted teeth, a snarled lip, and flared nostrils he has to breathe.

He’s suffocating on his own anger and the air in the bar is stuffy. He needs a break, a break from you but he needs to stay and make sure Soap doesn’t try to take advantage of you. Could he even blame him at this point? When you’re looking at him with those doe eyes and giggling like a naive schoolgirl at whatever shtick he’s peddling at you.

You’ve reached the level of intoxication where the alcohol is going down easy, Konig noticed. Not even a grimace as you sip your drink.

You’re shaking your head at Soap, and you give him a point paired with a cheeky expression. You both are finally heading back to the group, and Konig feels safe enough to leave his watch to slip out for some fresh air.

He needs to regroup, find his center.

This is all your fault.

You were acting so irresponsibly tonight. Letting these boys so close to you while you’re inebriated. So vulnerable. Chugging your drinks like you’re trying to make yourself stumble. Being your true, authentic self in their presence. Out in public, for anyone to see. It’s like flashing your expensive jewelry in the shady parts of town. So careless with your light, liebe.

This is why he has to watch you. To protect you. You’re too careless to do it yourself.

He’s got his eyes closed as he rests his back on the brick of the pub, having to remind himself to breathe.

You just make him so angry sometimes.

And then he hears your laugh. That genuine laugh he craved so much to hear. Craved to elicit from you. That beautiful laugh that fills his chest with warmth and makes his stomach flutter.

But it’s too close, way way too close.

He opens his eyes in a panicked jolt and he sees you, pushing open the pub door with your attention turned to the boy following you out.

Konig quickly shuffles backwards, not turning his back away from the action. He slips into the alleyway, body pressed up against the brick to shield himself.

He was always careful to keep his distance from you. He’s so recognizable, easy to pick out in a crowd. A stature you’d remember twice. It’s crucial that he stays on the opposite sides of the room of you, as far as possible.

Thankfully you two aren’t paying very good attention to your surroundings.

Oh, liebe. Always in your own little world. Unaware of the dangers that could be lurking in the shadows. Another reason why he has to watch over you. You’re not watching where you’re stepping, either, liebe. Stumbling as you step to the sidewalk.

What were you doing out here? Coerced from the safety of the herd again by one of them.

Not just any of them - Ghost.

Soap was annoying, sure, but his frat-boy shtick was an easier pill to swallow than Ghost. He was the one he hated more than any of them.

Konig knows you like him.

Simon fucking Riley.

With his perfect accent and tough exterior and mystique that attracted the women like honey attracts flies.

What did Ghost have that he didn’t?

You’re drunkingly humming the song that was playing in the bar. It doesn’t sound so over-the-top when it’s coming from you.

“Rowdy tonight, are we?” Ghost says, never straying from his usual gravely and unimpressed tone.

Konig has to force himself not to mock Ghost. Instead he hopes you can’t hear the sound of him grinding his teeth in rage.

He’s so fucking pretentious, so fucking arrogant. How dare he tease you? And for what, being lovable? What you do best?

Konig can hear you give a long drawn out hum as you think it over, “You have to be, every once in awhile. Good to let it out sometimes.” Konig hears gravel scraping under one of your shoes. “Would you prefer I be extra rowdy once a week? Or a little rowdy everyday?”

You’re so charming. Konig loves the way your mind works, always with your silly little prompts and thought experiments. You were always such a daydreamer, he could tell by the way you get lost in thought. If you totally zone out, and he watches careful enough, he can catch you making slight facial expressions at your own thoughts. He wishes he could pick your brain. Learn you from the inside out, always knowing what you’re thinking.

Ghost lets out a huff and Konig hears the unmistakable sound of a lighter being struck, and his brows pinch. He can’t help but peek around the corner and get a visual on you two.

Ghosts’ lighting himself a cigarette, the flame illuminating his face. Once it’s burning, he holds it between his first two fingers as he exhales the smoke. He passes the lighter to you - since when do you smoke, liebe?

You’re just doing it to impress him, aren’t you?

“Those are my only two options?” Ghosts asks you on an exhale. Even though you’re about to light your own, he still makes an effort to not blow smoke in your beautiful face.

“Well, what else do you suggest I do with my rowdiness? Bottle it up like you?” You say with a cheeky tone. Konig can tell your words are influenced by alcohol. You normally wouldn’t speak to your Lieutenant like this.

You knew you’d get away with it, too. With your devilish smile and teasing eyes.

Konig watches as you put the cigarette to your lips and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

When the orange flame casts a light on your features it’s like someone took his breath from him. He’s never seen you lit like this before, liebe. The highlights and shadows cast upwards on your features was fit for a painting.

It’s gone in an instant, but you still look so beautiful in the moonlight. You pass Ghost’s lighter back to him. Konig can’t hold back his scowl at the way you brush up against his fingers. He’s hoping it’s just because you’re drunk, uncoordinated.

Ghost holds this cigarette with his mouth as he slides the lighter back into his pocket. He exhales while keeping his gaze forward, “I think the word you’re looking for is discipline, soldier.” His tone is still unchanged, but he gives you a sly glance from the corner of your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t let it show much, but Konig can see from here that even he has a soft spot for you. That’s the light you have, liebe. Able to crack the toughest of exteriors.

“Discipline? Oh, yeah. I remember that one. In the dictionary, it’s the one right next to boring, yeah?” Your whole body is turned toward him, and you’ve still got that cheeky smile on your face, your tone playful.

Could you make it anymore obvious that you want to fuck him, liebe? It’s like you’re slashing Konig with each word, it hurts so much to see you acting so irresponsibly. So intoxicated that you’re flirting with your superior.

Ghost huffs again, and Konig can tell he’s amused with you, even if it came off as annoyed. He takes another draw from his cigarette and flicks away some ash.

“Thesaurus.” He corrects.

“Gesundheit.” You say proudly.

Oh, liebe. You’re practically begging him to fuck you. Pushing your chest out and kicking your feet sweetly and flirting with him like the whore you are.

Breathe. He can’t lose his cool here. He’s trying to soothe his temper, but how can you expect him to do that when you’re acting like this? So fragrantly?

Konig’s teeth are about to crumble under the pressure and his nails are breaking the skin in his palms as he clenches his fists.

This is your fault.

You both take a hit from your cigarette, and Konig can’t believe you’ve allowed him to corrupt you like this so soon. Smoking? What a terrible habit. He’ll have to interfere if you keep it up.

You both still for awhile, basking silently in the nicotine buzz and taking in the evening. The moon was bright tonight, and the street was quiet compared to the overwhelming pub.

Konig watched you close your eyes just a little too long, and he’s wondering how far gone you are. What terrible things will happen if he were to let you out of his sight. Konig’s tired, but he hardly gets rest anymore. It’s difficult managing his career, protecting you, and stay well rested. He can’t forgo the first two, so his sleep suffers.

You’re worth it liebe. You’re all he thinks about from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep.

But did you really have to keep him out so late?

Don’t you think you’ve put his heart through the chipper enough today?

You extinguish your cigarette on the red brick behind you. You don’t litter, no. How considerate of you to take it in with you to toss. Ghosts is less thoughtful, flicking his butt to the ground and stepping it out with his boot.

You slip back into the pub, and Konig briefly considers pulling Ghost into the alley and ending your fling right now.

He resists his urges, something that’s becomes more difficult the longer he observes you, seething from his alleyway as he watches Ghost follow you in.

He didn’t even get the door for you, liebe. Konig would treat you so much better.

Konig has to let all these feelings out somewhere, and he was far from the battlefield. He opts for the metal bin in the alleyway filled to the brim with empty beer bottles and pub garbage. A firm kick paired with an aggressive grunt imprints the metal with his boot as it knocks over, it’s contents spilling out into the puddles of the alleyway with clinks and rattles.

He takes a few more deep breaths.

He was never like this before. Anxious thoughts were one thing, but this constant feeling of rage and jealousy and obsession boiling underneath his skin has only swelled the more he observes you. He’s never felt like he doesn’t have control over himself, over his actions.

This is your fault.

Konig tries to soothe himself by shutting his eyes and picturing you flirting with him instead of Ghost. That it was Konig who had snuck you away for a drunken cigarette. That it was him you were pushing your chest out for, him you were desperately flirting with.

It does ease the depravity a bit, and he casually slips back into the pub. He was still angry, don’t get him wrong, but his nerves about leaving you alone with them overcame his rage.

So he sits back down in his dingy little corner, keeping an eye on you listening to the story being told and finishing your drink.

He thinks you must be close to calling it quits judging by the way your eyes keep fluttering shut. You’re getting sleepy, holding back a yawn as you stretch your back against the booth.

A few minutes pass, and you say something to the group, probably a goodbye, as you stand and gather your items. You head for he bar and pay your tab, and who other than Simon Riley walks up to the counter as you wait for the bartender to return with change.

He leans against the bar, facing the opposite direction as he turns his head to look at you. Konig’s trying to make out what he’s saying but can’t hear over the noisy pub. You wave your hand at him dismissively.

Good, liebe, shut him down.

Ghost continues, his hands draped casually on the bar behind him. You roll your eyes a bit at him, giving a half-smile.

No. Whatever he’s offering you is bad news. Don’t let him pressure you, liebe.

You thank the bartender oh so sweetly, and turn towards the door as you stuff your change sloppily into your wallet. Ghost slinks from his propped up position and follows you.

Konig’s eyes narrow, watching as Ghost follows you closely behind.

Going to trick you back to his place and then take advantage of you?

What else could it be? Ghost must of saw his opportunity and took it. This is all because you couldn’t act responsibly, liebe.

After a moment passed, Konig follows you two out of the pub and traces your steps. He’s careful, keeping a block and a half between you. Had you not been so inebriated, he might have followed further behind and been a bit more discreet. But you don’t have an eye for detail at the moment and Ghost is too busy guiding you along and keeping an eye on your unsteady strides on the sidewalk to notice.

Konig has to force himself not to jog to catch up in an attempt to decipher the echos of your words as they reverb off the quiet streets.

When you’re back on base, Konig is able to close some distance thanks to the cover of foliage.

The base is mostly empty, the workers and soldiers either home or sleeping in their quarters. Konig’s able to crouch behind some bushes a safe distance from you, able to see flashes of your lower halves through the branches. He's careful to be still as he quiets his breathing.

He’s close enough to hear you both now.

“Thanks for walkin’ me back.” You say, words slurring a bit.

“It’s my job to look out for the team. Especially when they don't know how to hold their liquor.”

Konigs heart pinches in his chest.

It’s his job to look out for you.

“Liquor? I barely even know her!” You say with a proud smile as you fumble your key in your lock.

Ghost gives an unamused sigh.

You finally get your door open, “Night Lt.”

“Goodnight.” He stays stiffly, waiting for you to be safely inside before turning away from your door and heading off. Konig stays in his spot amongst the bushes until he's gone.

He’s glad Ghost left, didn't try to take advantage of you. The interaction still leaves a knot in his stomach. How dare Ghost take care of you, make sure you were safe. That’s what Konig was for.

Once Konig is sure the coast is clear, he sneaks around the side of the building, heading for the small window you had. He’s delightfully surprised when he can see the light pouring from inside your modest quarters.

Usually you had the blinds closed at this hour. Guess you were too drunk to care.

You were too drunk to care about a lot of things, Konig noticed, as he nested into a spot obscured by your window, just the top of his head and eyes showing from your view. You had skipped your shower and forgo most of your normal night routine, your cares dulled by the booze.

This was his favorite part of the day. When he could have you all to himself - he despises having to share you. He enjoys observing you when you think no one’s watching. When you feel safe enough to shed the facet of your persona in charge of social life, and just let yourself be. The real you, liebe.

Of course there was the intoxication - so you weren’t quite yourself - but he still enjoys watching you in your natural environment. You turn off the lights, it takes a moment for Konig’s eyes to readjust, and he watches as you stumble over to your bed, shedding your clothes down to your underwear before collapsing onto your bed.

Konig can’t help the ache that fills the give in his pants as he maps your uncovered features.

It’s like you were sending him a message. A thank you for keeping you out of trouble all day, even though you acting were so difficult.

You’re forgiven.

How can he stay mad at such an engel? When your gorgeous body is on display, just for him. His gaze is tracing the curve of your delicate hips and your perfect ass in those cute little panties. Not for anyone else, not any of those boys on the 141. No, this show was just for him. You even left the blankets off you and the blinds open for him so he could get a perfect view. You’re so considerate, liebe.

Your hands are propped under your head as you drift off and he cant help but imagine himself straddling you, cock grinding against your ass as he kisses along the dip of your back, holding those pretty little wrists down. He’s been able to restrain himself, but the last few weeks the urge is unshakable. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without sneaking into your room, liebe. He just wanted to know what it was like to be in your space. Where you sleep and decompress and get ready for the day. He wonders how many times you’ve pleasured yourself on that modest little mattress.

His cock is at full attention now, and he can’t help but palm himself through his pants.

He needs to get close you. Close enough to take in all the precious details of your features. Close enough to hear you breathe. Close enough to feel the warmth that radiates from your skin. Close enough to figure out what your shampoo smells like.

You probably wouldn’t even mind.

His gaze flicks over briefly to the lock to your quarters. He wonders if you’re in a deep enough sleep not to stir if he were to pick it.

You’re practically inviting him in. You can’t possibly expect to tease him like this and expect him to control himself? You’re giving yourself to him.

Desperate hands pop the button of his pants, shoving his hand into his waistband in order to find some relief. He can’t stop staring at your beautiful body, liebe. He wants to wake you up with your cunt in his face, already dripping from his tongue making gentle circles around your clit. Too turned on to deny him. He wants you to helplessly come on his face, his grip digging into your plush thighs as he forces you spread and holds you steady though the convulsing of intense orgasm.

He takes a look around, making sure no one was around before pulling his cock out, his grip firm on the base as he pumps himself. He just can’t help it. Not when you’re sprawled on the bed and showing off your body for him.

He’s thinking about how your hands would cling to him, nails clawing to get him off your pulsing clit, but he would hold firm, taking advantage of your sensitively. He wants to you powerless to the pleasure, the only resistance you’d be capable of is desperate and broken pleading as he hungrily commits your taste to memory. It’s the least you could do for him, after everything he‘s done for you.

His other hand presses up against the cool wall, holding him steady as he jerks himself off.

Precum is leaking from him as he pictures you, mumbling sweet nothings and reduced to a trembling mess. You wouldn’t even have it in you fight him as he lines his cock up with your dripping cunt, pushing his tip in and savoring how tight you are as you stretch around him.

He wants to ruin you, liebe. Reduce you to a whining and quivering mess as he pounds into you.

The visual you gifted him had him so excited, he didn’t last long. He spilled come all over the concrete wall beneath your window sill, some dripping to the dirt beneath his feet. His whole body shakes at the intensity of the orgasm, involuntarily hunching forward and choking off any noises begging to escape him. He’s imaging he’s filling you up with his come, staking his claim deep inside you. Claiming his ownership.

He’s still for a moment, taking hitched breaths as he recovers from his orgasm.

Once his thoughts return, the flush on his features transitioned from the warmth of pleasure to the heat of shame, looking to you lying on your bed sleeping, then to his mess scattered outside your window as he crouches outside.

He’s out of control, he can’t help himself, liebe. He wasn’t usually like this. It was just for you - you brought it out of him. It was all your fault, you’ve reduced him to a perverted peeping tom by teasing him like this. Purposefully making him jealous, messing with his emotions, and then luring him back with your beauty. He knew what game you were playing, he was smart enough to understand the power you held over him. He still could not resist you.

You will be punished for how you’ve been treating him, liebe. The tortuous weeks you’ve put him through. He will ruin you. Dig his nails in, train you until you are right where he wants you, never able to hurt him again.

You were his, liebe. You just didn’t know it yet.

Part Two

Original Works Masterlist

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pinkchrissysposts · 1 month

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Success story

Hello dear,it's me it's been we have already chat before i dmed you,and I'm so happy to tell you I have entered the void through lucid dream.

I have finally manifested a great life for me and my sons also didn't wanted to trauma dump on you until and unless i manifest my dream. So,I'm a lady in my late 20s,and after my husband died and I start having financial crisis,my teaching career wasn't going great and i end up loosing my job,everything was getting worse for me,there was a point when I thought to give my twins for adoption and my pet shih tzu to some dog adoption center because I just couldn't provide them enough,we were living in our car but I didn't give up.

So,I took your advice and start saturating non stop for 3 days straight,I think would've entered on the first day but I kept going back in my old mindset,but I persisted first day was hard to saturate all day,eventhough you recommended me to affirm for an hour,I still affirmed from the moment I woke up,till I fell asleep,I read through Taylor's tweets and some other loa accounts tweet and it motivated me to affirm for more then 5 hours,and I also watched a video by Rita Kaminski where she was telling to robotically affirm as we fall asleep and I did exactly that. But my sons and pet played a huge role and you too.

I have manifested being a model,earning upto 2000k a month,moved from Turkey to America and a living husband,I also got to provide better treatment for my dog's health and good schooling for my sons,and i have aldo changed my religion maybe controversial but it just felt like I didn't have much freedom.

And as for affirming i just affirmed "I'm a lucid dreamer,I can control my dreams" that's it.

I'm gonna delete this app for forever thanks alot,I must say affirming and saturating will be my favorite now.

ANOTHER SUCCESS STORYYYY🫠I'm so happy for you,you are truly an inspiration for all those who think their circumstances matters,and you not telling me your struggle touch my heart💓,I could tell you were depress when we first texted abd I'm so happy you persisted through your hard circumstances I'm happy you could give your son's and dog the better life they deserve.

#anon sucess #success story #void state #void success #law of manifestation #3d #4d reality

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sigmalaussene · 2 months

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Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

#ofc “penguin” is implied #i finished my latest rewatch!!! ajsnakak i love this little silly guy so much AND i made my brother love him too YAY #gotham oswald #oswald copplepot #ed nygma #nygmobblepot #gotham #riddlebird #gotham fox #show #tv show #top ten #top ten weird ways oswald cobblepot gets called #gotham fandom #scaley faced bitch <3 #fandom meme #gotham meme

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tarotwithavi · 1 year

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How do men view you?

Masterlist ♡ paid services

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⚠ : these pictures do not belong to me. I have taken them Pinterest

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest.

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PILE 1

Hey pile 1 ! Now I don't know about your personal life but men around you see you as someone who has been through a lot of things . You might always appear as sleepy or men get that you're always sleepy but somehow still cute. They see you as someone who's very observant and knows about everything. Almost as a smart ass. Someone who is always in their head. I'm also getting that men around you feel like a need to protect you or provide for you. It's just something about you that makes them treat you nicely but it mostly comes from pity. And I'm also getting that there's something about your eyes that attracts men. I feel like men view you as someone who tries very hard to do something. I'm not saying that they view you as a pushover but they feel like you try very hard to fit in. Men feel like someone has hurt you and they shouldn't mess with you. I am also getting that men feel like you are waiting for someone very special like a Soulmate to have a relationship with and you do not want just fun or like to mess around with someone. You want a real committed rerelationship and do not want to fuck around. You respect your time and you don't give it to others who don't deserve it. But when they get close to you, you treat them very nicely and are very caring. Almost like a mother. But still you won't let them be too close to you . It's like you always have a wall around you no matter how close they are to you. Men also see you as a wise person who has a lot of knowledge regarding different topics. And I'm also getting that you always have something to teach them. Men see you as a cold hearted person sometimes. They are somewhat scared to approach you because they feel like you'll reject them. If you have dark eyes they are like an ocean to men. Almost like a dark sea. There's also something about your gaze that's very attractive to them.

Random messages : peach, cherry, turkey, cold/winters, Neptune dominant, night time, black Swan, tear drops, Aries, Sagittarius, scorpio, Pisces , Capricorn , Pointy nose , brown hair.

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PILE 2

Hey pile 2 ! Okay let's get one thing straight, what I'm about to say is not good to be very good. So prepare yourself. Men around you almost romanticize you and sexualize you. They have fantasies about you. And I'm also getting that men around you get obsessed with you and may also stalk you. Men can't face rejection from you and when they get rejected they may act psychotic. You're the dream girl of many men. Because you come from a rich and abundant family. And this is not always good because men want to take advantage of you. Either your money or from your name . Some men see you as someone who is family oriented and has a lot of expectations . Men see you as someone who's secretive and mysterious. There's somehow about you that makes men desire you but you don't give them any of your attention. You know your worth and won't let anyone walk over you. You're also very bittersweet too. You also bring peace and harmony with you everywhere you go. Men also see that you have a great intellect. You want or might have an emotionally secure and loving family or this kind of family is important to you . Men want to have kids with you so that you wouldn't get away from them.( you almost arouse the breeding kink in men) Men also see you as someone who's very stubborn. You know exactly what you want and won't settle for anything less than that. Men also feel instant connection with you. But you're also a heartbreaker. Or men see you as one. I am also getting that men see you as someone who had a great glow up. Or you can be someone who changes their aesthetic very often. And looks good in everything. I'm hearing Made You look by Meghan Trainor. So this song might be important to you. Or you give off the energy of this song. Men also find your voice very attractive. You could have a deep or soothing voice.

Random messages : Capricorn, Leo, Aries, Aquarius, Pisces, libra, August, 8 , moon, clouds, Ram, rest, 1010 , 333 , pineapple, good back, smooth hair.

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PILE 3

Hey pile 3! You're pile got the most cards like my cards were flying out lol. Okay so right off the bat I'm getting that you might give off serial killer Vibes to men and men are also scared of you . You might practice witchcraft or are interested in the occult and you seem to always talk about it , so somehow men are scared of you because they see you as a witch. And somehow you pull both men and women. You have a lot of suitors. You like taking risks. Men feel scared of you because you don't seem to have fear about anything . It's like you like to put yourself in dangerous situations and take risks because it gives you pleasure almost like a psychopath. You give off light yagami's vibe from DEATH NOTE. You might say something very controversial or wear a shirt with something very controversial written on it. Men don't want to involve themselves with you because sometimes they think that they'll be in on bad rumors. Some of you might be bisexual. You are very in tune with your sexuality. This pile is very different, I'm amazed. You might have masculine energy or like to act masculine and men somehow feel insecure around you. You can do everything by yourself and don't need anyone to help. And this gives men anxiety because they know they won't be in your life if they're not offering you something or being helpful in some way. You easily attract the spotlight. Some men also see you as somehow who they'll love to work with or be on good terms with. You also give some regrets to men. Like when you cut ties with men they feel like they should've treated you better. Men might also be against your beliefs and what you say. You always trigger something in them. Men see you as a very goal oriented person. Alright so here I feel a male's energy, this can be your ex or if you don't have an ex this is your ex-crush. They see how great you're doing in your life and they feel regretful about what they couldn't have with you.

Random messages : lion/Tiger high cheekbones, Leo , virgo, rabbit, Target, a good friend, guilt trip, Tea, sharp jawline, Bun.

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andreafmn · 4 months

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12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 4

Word Count: 1.6K Paring: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @a-cure-for-writers-block: mothering their S/Os younger siblings and making sure they're getting enough to eat

Summary: Lip Gallagher has had a hell of a year, and most of the time he doesn't think he deserve the mercy he's been shown. But (Y/N) will stop at nothing to make sure he and his family know they are taken care of. And he knows it.

A/N: a bit late, but still published. Also, this is very short and sweet and does not follow the canon after season 5. Kind of went off path to give Lip a bit of a quicker redemption. Hope y'all enjoy!

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“Yo, Lip,” Ian’s sleepy voice rang through his brother’s phone. “Uh, your girlfriend is over here, and I think she’s gone crazy.”

“What you mean?” Lip chuckled as he rubbed his hands together to warm them up. “‘Cause that’s a lot coming from you.”

“Very funny,” he laughed sarcastically. “No, but she made Christmas puke on the house, and she’s been cooking nonstop since this morning. She hounded us all morning until we ate breakfast and wouldn’t stop until we sat down at the table.” ”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he pictured his girlfriend with her face dirtied by food, her hair tied back and away from her face, and her voice carrying around the house as she made sure everyone had eaten. It was one of the things he loved about her and one of the reasons he was glad she had come into his life. “Look, I’ll be home soon,” he chuckled. “Can you just make sure she actually eats? I know she’s gonna forget.”

“Fine,” Ian groaned. “Just hurry up.”

(Y/N) had come into Lip’s life at a moment when he was sure his life would have gone down the rails. She has become his sense of normalcy in his less-than-normal life. He had needed something to ground him back to earth, and that was exactly what she had done. After being so close to rock bottom he could taste the soil on the ground, she had been the only one that had been able to bring him back to his feet.

As he got off the L, he wondered what she could have ever seen in him. She was smart and beautiful and a complete juxtaposition to the man he was. She was sunshine where he was rain, she was happiness where he was gloom, she was future while he was stuck in the past. And she was everything he never thought he needed.

The moment he reached the house, he could hear the chatter from his family and the smell of (Y/N)’s cooking. Inside, Liam, Carl, and Ian were hypnotized by the TV while (Y/N) and Debbie talked away in the kitchen.

Ian had not lied. The Gallagher house had been decorated like it had never been before. From garlands to stockings above the fireplace, to a massive Christmas tree in front of the stairs, it was a scene that had never lived inside that house. “Yo, you weren’t kidding, huh?” Lip chuckled as he shook off his jacket. “Didn’t think we’d ever have these many decorations.”

“And presents,” Carl grinned. “Check under the tree.”

Just like his younger brother had pointed, under the pine rested a couple of boxes wrapped in kraft paper. Each of them had every one of the Gallagher’s names written on them and a glittering red bow around them. It truly was more than Lip could have ever expected.

“Ian, did she eat something?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s also been pecking at everything she’s doing.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Taking the scenery in, Lip walked into the kitchen to find (Y/N) wearing a dirty apron and plates balanced on her arms.

“You’re home,” she smiled, kissing his cheek as she walked past him to give the three boys each a plate. “Good. There’s a plate for you in the microwave. I made some turkey sandwiches for lunch. Light enough to not fill you guys up for dinner but strong enough to tide you over until then.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” the boys chorused before digging into their sandwiches and focusing back on the TV.

“This is so good, (Y/N),” Debbie exclaimed from the breakfast table. “I don’t know how you’re not studying to be a chef.”

“I cook for fun, not for work,” the young woman smiled. “That’s what engineering school is for.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged. “If the genius stuff doesn’t work out, you could definitely be a chef.”

“Thank you, Debs,” (Y/N) responded. “And speaking of school, how was your last final, babe? I know this semester has been a bit hard.”

Understatement of the century, Lip had thought. He couldn’t understand how he had not been expelled after everything he had done the year before. He had been so close to losing it all. Had it not been for (Y/N) stopping him before he smashed Youens car and speaking up on his behalf at the disciplinary meeting, he was sure he would have gotten a worse punishment than a semester suspension. She had been the saving grace he didn’t know he needed, and she was the reason he understood he needed help.

Lip had inherited more than a hard life from his parents, he’d fallen victim to their addictive genetics and gone off the deep end with a bottle of liquor in hand. But somehow, she had been there to pull him up while he was down and walk beside him as he got back onto the right path. She stayed with him as he rebuilt himself into the man people believed he was.

“I think it went pretty well,” he said before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Won’t know until after the break, but if midterms were anything to go by, I did good.”

“That’s good. I’m pretty sure you did very well,” she smiled as she sat beside him, placing a hand on his and a coffee cup in front of his plate. “And I know you’re tired, but I’m gonna need you to help me prep the table for dinner tonight. Kev, V, and the girls are coming over. Fiona can’t make it, but she’ll try for actual Christmas Day or New Year's.”

“You’ve got everything planned out already, don’t you?” Lip chuckled. “Not that I am surprised in any way, shape or form.”

“I would have told you earlier, but I wanted you to focus on your exams,” she said before turning to the boys in the living room. “Hey, guys! Remember to wash your dishes when you’re done! I’m gonna need them for tonight.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” they chorused back.

“You got them very well trained,” Debbie laughed. “Where have you been all our lives?”

“Just on the other side of town,” the girl smiled. “Now hurry and finish eating. We’ve got work to do.”

After everyone finished their lunch and the how was suddenly dispersed of children, (Y/N) and Lip set off to work. While she waltzed around the kitchen, he rearranged the formal dining area to fit all the guests. As he walked around the house, the young man wanted to laugh. He remembered a time when that type of domesticity would have sent him running, searching for the easiest way to drown his fears of commitment and stability. But there he was, setting tables for a dinner party that his girlfriend had cooked, and he didn’t feel the jittery need to escape. He didn’t feel the anxious desire to feel alcohol burn its way down his throat and fill him with a mirage of confidence. He wanted to stay.

“Hey,” he whispered after he had finished his task, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing her cheeks. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Of course,” she smiled, leaning into the comfort and warmth of his touch. “Do you think there’s enough food I don’t know if I should set out some snacks for the kids while the turkey is finished. Maybe dinner is too late for Jemma and Amy. I should set some snacks out.”

“(Y/N), baby,” he chuckled. Lip flipped her around, kissing her lips softly to stop her rambling. “There’s enough food, and they should be starving by dinner. You worked hard enough on all these dishes, they need to be eaten.”

“And they will, but…”

“You really enjoy mommying them, don’t you?” Lip grinned lovingly. “You know they’re not kids anymore –other than Liam. The other ones are all teenagers, they know how to get food when they’re hungry.”

“I know that. But I just wanna make sure they know there’s someone here that cares about them other than you now that Fiona’s gone,” she admitted, her eyes falling onto the hands she pressed to his chest. “And I want them to like me, Lip. I’m in it for the long run, babe.”

“If there’s one thing I can assure you, it’s that the Gallagher family loves you,” he smiled. His hand caressed her cheek softly, and it surprised him that only a year before, his knuckles would have been ripped and bloodied. But not with her. Never with her. “And if you keep cooking like this for them, they’ll make sure you’re here forever.”

“And what about you? Would you want me to stay forever?”

Lip couldn’t help the smile that spread across his mouth. As he stared into her eyes, it took everything inside him not to spoil the plans he had for Christmas morning. He wanted to give her all the reassurance she could need with the ring he had hidden deep in his underwear drawer. But when he had a plan, it was hard to divert from it. “How could I want anything else?” he grinned. “Now, why don’t we finish up here so we can have a little treat before dinner ourselves?”

“Philip Gallagher,” she exclaimed at his advance, slapping his chest playfully. “I have too much work to do to be thinking about that.”

“Come on, I’ve only been thinking about this all day,” he groaned. “It’s the only thing that got me through that test.”

“Then you can wait a bit more,” she laughed. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, baby. All good things come to those who wait.”

And, at that moment, she had no idea how much truth there was in that statement.

Next ->

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besaya-glantaya · 6 months

Text

In an attempt to exorcise these thoughts from my brain (this movie has taken up residence in my soul), here is an incomplete list of the things I notice and love in Red White and Royal Blue.

1. Henry staring in utter disbelief at the frosting-covered whiskey tumbler Alex plops distractedly into his hand whilst pawing ineffectually at the mess all over Henry's shoulder. Comedy gold.

2. Nora pretending she doesn't know either of them and hiding her face as they scuffle in front the cake.

3. How Alex has Henry literally in his pocket while talking turkey.

4. During Henry's "what does it mean" crisis talk over The Kiss, the entire scene is dressed in bi flag colours. Nora is in pink, Alex in blue, with a purple poster in the background.

5. The soft "whoa" of the white house staffer, who walks into Nora's office just in time to hear her ask Alex: "How many guys have you been with?" She hesitates, stunned, and then looks as if she'd like the ground to open up and swallow her now, thank you very much.

6. His Royal Hardness making flustered small talk with the UK Prime Minister and the US President, while the FSOTUS goes in for a cheeky squeeze. You ridiculous, giddy, fools.

7. Ellen's exasperated "my son thinks he's a fucking comedian" look in reply to Alex's "The night is young, Ma" and his shit eating grin, before diplomatically, and very sensibly, removing the British PM from the vicinity of these two horny idiots.

8. Alex's warm and teasing delivery of "Are they known for their homosexual tendencies?" after Henry says he's "as gay as a maypole." Boy is smitten.

9. When Henry invites Alex to the charity polo match, his initial awkward nerves transition to fond derision when Alex's tells him, crestfallen, that he doesn't know how to play polo. Bless.

10. Henry on a horse. Very much in agreement with Alex on this one.

11. The interleaved editing of the polo match and tack room shenanigans. It reminds me strongly of the interlaced 'what if' scene in Steven Sodenburg's Out of Sight, which is executed at a far slower pace but delivers that same feel of two people being inexorably drawn to each other, almost as if events are fated to happen.

12. The lighting in the Paris cafe scene. God damn those are two beautiful men.

13. Henry's gleefuly bashful admission of innuendo in the Paris cafe. He's just given Alex his full Royal name, but its Henry Fox that's in control here and he's revelling in bringing every moment of his inner fantasies to life.

14. The heartbreaking disconnect between their two perspectives in the Paris walk scene.

That's some bullshit

It's my life

Doesn't mean you have to accept it

Alex has spent his life pushing defiantly against societal expectations. Henry has spent his life weighed down by them, isolated in a way that Alex only barely grasps.

15. I wish, with all my heart, that the fairytale political landscape of this movie was real.

16. The entirety of the morning after scene in the hotel room during the DNC is perfection and Zahra is the MVP. Matthew Lopez said he had no idea he was going to get that mini panic attack from Sarah Shahi and kudos to Sarah for that perfomance. Inspired.

17. How quickly and assertively Alex say "No" to Zarah's "would it make any difference if I told you not to see him again?"

18. The way Zarah says "Everytime I see you, it takes another year off my life." This phrase plays on loop in my brain during shitty work meetings.

19. The coming out scene with Alex and his Mom. A joyous balm for those of us who never got to experience that with our own parents.

20. Forehead touches. Ugh.

21. My brother in Christ, sharpen your knives Oscar, what did that pepper do to deserve that?

22. The catatonic state of sadness that Henry exists in after swimming away from Alex. My heart hurts.

23. The pride flags in the crowd outside Buckingham Palace. Again, can we all have this universe, pretty please?

24. The way Henry takes Alex's hand with such ease in public after the election win. If only Paris Henry could see you now.

[Exorcism sequel here]

#red white and royal blue #prince henry rwrb #rwrb film #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #rwrb #first prince #henry fox #red white and royal blue movie #myrwrbthoughts

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steveharringtonat3am · 1 year

Text

Sunday lovin'

wc: 648

warnings: domestic bf!steve, food and eating

You wake up slowly, sun streaming in through the blinds. Steve’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. He feels so warm that you don’t wanna move for the rest of your life. But you do start to stretch, squirming gently out of his grip.

“Where are you going?” Steve’s morning voice whines in your ear. You turn to face him, smiling softly.

“As much as I’d like to stay in bed with you, I have breakfast to make for the two of us.” That makes him hum happily but he pulls you tighter to his chest.

“You could keep snuggling with me?” He kisses your temple, sighing happily.

“Baby…you’re gonna be very hungry in about thirty minutes so how about I make breakfast, bring it up, and we can keep cuddling?” He sighs dramatically, letting you go.

“Fine! But if I die due to lack of cuddling you better write on my headstone that it’s your fault.” He pouts as you climb out of bed.

“Oh relax you big baby!” You ruffle his bedhead, kissing his forehead quickly before heading into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Steve pretends to sleep but you can see the eye cracked open as he watches you hum along to a song that’s been stuck in your head for a week. He was so grateful that you had agreed to move in with him. You were so sweet all the time and he did not know how he survived without you.

Meanwhile, you head into the kitchen, pulling out some turkey bacon, eggs, and your blueberry pancake mix. You turn on some pop music, singing along as you start to make breakfast. You try to be quick, knowing that eventually Steve will get impatient and come down here and you really don’t wanna bother him.

He’s been working a lot lately, the job at his dad’s firm practically killing him. He hates that people know he’s the boss’s son, and especially hates how people expect him to be useless. You know the job drains him so you figure breakfast in bed is the least you can do.

You pile the plates high with bacons, pancakes, syrup, and sunny-side up eggs. You balance the plates on a tray with two tall glasses of orange juice. When you finally make your way upstairs, Steve is already sitting up.

“I wanted you to be sleeping baby!” You pout as you set the tray on the nightstand. He smiles regardless, reaching for the delicious smelling food.

“If I was sleeping I would have missed listening to your adorable singing!” He winks as you set the tray on his lap.

“Oh just eat your pancakes.” You grin anyways, sitting next to him and taking your plate. He smiles, cutting himself a large bite and shoveling it into his mouth.

“This was so worth you climbing out of bed!” He chews with his mouth full, smiling when you shoot him a disapproving look.

“You deserve it baby. Been working so hard lately.” You start to dig in too, humming when it tastes pretty good.

“I haven’t been working that hard.”

“Yes you have. I know that being at your dad’s firm has been…difficult so I wanted to do something nice for you!” You shift to sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You’re so sweet…I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I know!” You boast, content to sit in silence with your adorable boyfriend and eat your breakfast.

Soon enough, your stomachs are full and your plates are empty. You set them on the nightstand, curling up to him again with a yawn.

“Morning nap?” He suggests and you smile, eyes already starting to close.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic

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emry-stars-art · 2 months

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Oooh do go on about raven neil and jean 👀 (if you’re so inclined ☺️) - @neil-jostenminyard

*chanting* raven Neil raven Neil raven Neil (and lots of Jean) (quite possibly even jeaneil) (although most of the thoughts are post-ravens lol)

So my personal thoughts about this are also mostly thanks to chats and inspiration/prompting from @jtl-fics and @greenautumnleaves so if you see any additions from them on this post it's most likely also thoughts I adore lol

Anyway this got kind of long so:

I ALSO latched onto Sakavic's statement that Neil wouldn't leave Jean in the nest bc yeah it makes sense and also ow

But just the two of them being partnered up like Riko and Kevin as is common in these aus, and then after Kevin gets out first, they have to stick together and rely on each other even MORE because Riko is pissed that Kevin is gone and probably takes it out on the next closest two idk

But in our imaginings, Renee or Andrew get Jean out quicker than in canon, again because Neil would refuse to leave Jean behind and I can only imagine he'd go so far as to trick or manipulate Jean into leaving. Maybe by being at a certain place at a certain time to get picked up, however he can make it happen. But the issue we run into is that once that's done, what the hell would Neil have left at Evermore, besides Exy that maybe he still loves deep down. But Exy's been so warped being raised on it at the nest that at that point his obsession is barely recognizable.

Kevin might recognize this, because he knew Neil in the nest. Or at least he knew the person that Neil presented himself as. But it's probably more likely that Jean recognizes this, and yeah things are super rocky and weird but Jean can barely even function without Neil. So back a fox goes to rescue their second raven's partner.

They bring Neil back to Palmetto and he and Jean are completely inseparable. Emotionally and physically. Neither of them act like, feel like, or even call themselves "touchy feely" or "clingy" people but as soon as Neil is treated for various intense and mysterious injuries, they're curled up in some hidden place for hours. Even the short time having left Neil behind made Jean almost too anxious to leave his room. Even the short time without Jean - now with more punishment for aiding Jean's escape - was enough for Neil to consider something drastic.

(side note: Andrew now has not one, not two, but three gorgeous tragic boys under his supervision and I'm sure he's handling that totally normally lmao. But it's so obvious to him that Jean and Neil have something going on that any ideas for himself aren't worth entertaining.)

So it's a little easier to ease out of various habits and thought processes because Jean and Neil are doing it together, with outside help. They fix their sleep cycles/rhythms, try a slightly more normal college diet, and most slowly lose their "win or die" mindset in practices. They're still never seen without each other - Wymack had a talk with some of the school board about their schedules and dorm arrangements for the first semester. In reality, he's not sure if he should have them go cold turkey on raven habits or if he should take it slower, but he's doing his damn best to get these boys adjusted to life outside a cult. And Neil and Jean, whether or not they actively realize it, find that step to be the one they absolutely cannot take. Why would they go through the agony of learning to live separately if they don't have to. When no one else understands them like the other, when they've already seen each other's worst so nothing else is worth keeping secret between them. Who else is Jean going to go to when having a better life makes him feel like he more deserves death or punishment and the guilt hits him so hard he can't breathe, much less sleep. Who else is Neil going to go to when he can't let go of his birthright - if he isn't good at what he does (Exy) he literally could just be shot like a lame horse - and he's not allowed to go practice Exy against a wall to the point of tearing himself apart anymore so he forces his feet away from the court to find the only person he knows he'll listen to when they say no.

Kevin, of course, is keeping a close eye on the two, whether unintentionally or on purpose is unclear. Neil still has a mouth on him, he sometimes plays mind games with the foxes like chess against himself, and most of all does not allow anyone to get too close to Jean. Jean is still quiet, having learned not only to take a punishment without resistance but also that Neil will speak first. Neil will resist so Jean doesn't have to. He's safer in Neil's shadow.

Maybe it's a phrase or warning that Neil uses and that Kevin recognizes. Maybe it's a gesture between Neil and Jean that Kevin oversees. Maybe it's just the general demeanor of the two. But whatever it is is familiar to Kevin, not in a "I remember this from them in the nest" way. He can recognize by now that Riko was not good to him, he can acknowledge it even if the rest of him hasn't caught up. He looks at Jean in Neil's shadow and remembers himself in Riko's.

As if Butcher's son Nathaniel Wesninski wasn't already scary enough on his own.

But Kevin won't allow this kind of thing on his court, and he's not good at it but he is still trying to let go of unhealthy raven ideals. If Neil is holding onto some fucked up dynamic, Kevin is going to put a stop to it.

He pulls Jean aside, a miraculous feat. He asks what Neil has done.

"Mistake" might be an understatement.

It could very easily be the longest string of words Jean has said to anyone besides Neil. Kevin doesn't know near as much French as he does in canon - Neil is the one that shares that secret defiance - so it's all clear English, Jean making sure Kevin understands every word. Kevin should never speak about Neil that way again. He knows nothing about them, he shouldn't so much as pretend to understand Neil. Neil is the only good thing that ever happened to Jean. Kevin never cared enough to bring it up in the nest, so he has no right to start caring now.

It isn't great for their already tumultuous relationship. Kevin wonders for a bit if Jean would tell Neil about it - then next practice Neil doesn't even try to work with Kevin, even after the two had made it a point as strikers to figure out how to. He ignores the other strikers entirely, falling immediately and seamlessly into perfect synch with Jean behind him, speaking hardly a word of English the whole practice. Because he knows that will make Kevin even more angry than Neil being actively hostile to his new teammates.

Kevin isn't sure what he was expecting. Chances are Jean hadn't even needed to bring it up for Neil to notice something was off.

As for Andrew, I think he could still pick up a game of truths. He'd need to offer a similar deal as he did for canon Neil, this time for Neil-and-Jean, the entity of the two of them together. I think he could ensure some cooperation by saying he won't force Jean and Neil apart from each other the way some others have muttered about doing. Even if Neil knows by now the codependence isn't healthy, neither of them are ready to give it up.

It probably really throws Andrew to hear that they don't consider themselves to be an item. They're together, sure, but for a raven that doesn't always, maybe even rarely, means "in a traditional relationship". Neil and Jean definitely never offer any clarification. That's no one else's business, even if they could explain it so that a non-raven could understand. Generally I feel like if this is an andreil universe, it's an even longer, stranger, more winding road to get there than in canon.

I'm almost CERTAIN there's more Im forgetting about rn but this has been my taster on raven Neil+Jean, I hope it was at least a little bit coherent, and greenautumnleaves - I hope this comes anywhere close to your galaxy brain ideas on these two lol. Maybe I'll be back with other thoughts later who knows

#maybe i lied. maybe i will make raven neil/jean art of my own accord #because if any other pairing in the series drives me crazy it is whatever tf these two have going on #thank you for allowing me to text dump lmao #not art sorry guys #neil josten #jean moreau #jeaneil #nathaniel wesninski #raven neil au #oh also. i had to throw andrew in there not because of my vanilla shipping tendencies #but because theres far too many ways for things to go so wrong and end so badly for him in universes where he doesnt have neil #so he at LEAST has a bit of something. does this make sense

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