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#what is this... me?? posting on a regular time and not in the dead of night???? no way
allysketches · 7 months
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in his primadonna girl* era 😌✨
(*playing the damsel in distress and getting locked in a tower in the middle of the french revolution so his boyfriend can rescue him from being beheaded 😏)
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redstrewn · 7 months
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Notes are cool but when u start talking to me...thats worth 50 notes babey
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honestlyvan · 1 year
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I'm in the mood for beloved horrible men doing horrible things and I've been thinking, could you elaborate on what you said about how Impactor is not someone who would rape for pleasure but he WOULD as a means of control?
Everyone point and laught at Barbie for having the bad taste to like my favourite character.
I'M SURPRISED THAT IT'S NOT A MORE POPULAR READ TBH. Like why does this fandom want this fuck to have such things as A Good Time and Ability To Enjoy Himself. Impactor is so shameless, so cruel, and he doesn't even have the temerity to enjoy himself, he's not even a sadist, he's just a joyless causer of misery and a plague on the lives of everyone he meets.
I think for me what it comes down to is that rape is about power, ultimately. Sexually violent characters who I could see doing it for the pleasure are ultimately also doing it because they're reveling in the power to extract that pleasure from someone else. But Impactor is just so joyless and miserable when he isn't riding an adrenaline high... that's just not him, to me. It doesn't parse, I don't think he really cares that he has power and authority to wield over other people. He treats the Wreckers with the same instrumentality he treats himself with.
So sexual violence would be no different as a tool of violence than, say, kicking someone's shit in. It's just as violent and painful as a beating, and just as humiliating and violating as torture. It would be a very useful tool to be able to pull out to threaten people with just for those qualities, and I think that's where utility for Impactor would be. Because the other aspect of it is the intimacy -- but that's not a game Impactor is willing to play, just based on the fact that he regularly gets mad at his friends for knowing how he feels.
Impactor might not be a literal walking corpse in IDW'05 but in spirit, I think that's what he is. It's all ash, to him, there's nothing worth selfishly chasing or trying to possess or achieve that could really mean anything. Nothing short of literally fighting for his life does it for him, so the usual narratives about other people existing to please him creating entitlement just don't make sense to me.
The point where someone can no longer threaten his life is, I think, the point he loses all reason to interact with them, unless having power over that person will somehow bring him closer to a new fight with someone who could actually kill him. The point of fear tactics is to find the people whose fight-or-flight is biased towards fight, and to be hated. But I don't think any kind of dominance over any specific individual just does anything for Impactor, because almost nothing does anything for him, anymore.
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Sex to destress with jjk men? You mentioned it a few times and it got my mind running.
Trust me it got my mind running too.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, hickies, sex to destress, mating press, creampie, getting home for work, post-mission adrenaline, frustration
A/N: They can destress me anytime, any day of the week. Except for Saturday's, I always get the most rest then.
YUUJI
Even when he's fucking to let go of the stressful energy he's stil trying to hold back a little. Yuuji never hurts you, even if you ask him to it would make him feel bad so instead what he likes most is marking you, in every place he can get his lips and cock on. One of the things he likes most is giving you a little hickyes on the thigh and then pulling his cock out abruptly, smearing cum over the marked spot while watching you pussy flutter and then go back in.
SUKUNA
He's not even stressed that many times, he uses it as an excuse to go really, really rough with you. Not that he needs one you're already used to taking one cock and then the second on a regular basis. There's a ferocity to him when he comes back from talking with the Sorcerers though, he's more pissed off that they're lecturing him then stressed, but the two can easily overlap and that's why he loves to know you'll gladly be face down on the bed, ready for him when he gets home.
MEGUMI
Tries to keep it a little bit quiet, he doesn't want his teammates and neighbors to hear how he makes you scream and moan. It's selfish, but he loves to be the only one knowing of the sounds you make, just like only you know of this side of him that pushes your front against the wall and can't wait for clothes to come off in order to sick his cock into you. When you needs to orgasm he tells you to stay quiet, keep that voice of your only for him.
GOJO
Is often in too much of a good mood to be stresses this much, him fucking you in the hallway is quite rare. He's shoving his head against your pussy, lapping at you like a madman, gripping your hips not letting you go anywhere until your juices are all over his face. Not yet, he isn't done, he can't be done until he sees his cum dripping from your pussy like a waterfall. He holds you up, this position letting his cock hit as deep as it can go in you.
NANAMI
Most people wouldn't think it because he's keeping his emotions in check but in reality he's stressed almost every day about something or someone. So almost every day he has to fuck his stress away otherwise he's getting more and more irritated every day and it makes him lose sleep. It's not odd to wake up to him coming home at night and spreading your legs to make room for his cock. He won't be able to calm down until he makes you come.
GETO
He's actually not that stressed often but you can be so that in turn stresses him out. It's pretty much always mutual when you fuck the stress out of each other. The only time when he lets you be on top for the most of the night is when he know he needs his cock bad. He doesn't mind it if his cum gets all over his abs while you're doing it, there's many ways to get cleaned up afterwards.
TOJI
If he's stressed you're not getting off his dick for hours. If you behave like a brat and try to run, shaky as your legs are, he admires that but you won't get away from him. He'll fold you in half over any and every surface in the house and fuck you until you're a puddle on the floor. And if you think he'll stop there you're dead wrong, if your pussy can't take anymore he'll straddle you and fuck your throat instead until you choke on his dick.
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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?
I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.
I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?
I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:
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Someone's response to this photo:
"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.
Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."
My response to them:
"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.
The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.
Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.
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This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:
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Literally lingerie.
We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.
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In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.
Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL
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Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:
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Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:
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Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL
In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).
I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.
In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.
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Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.
Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.
In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.
In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":
"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.
Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"
Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.
Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.
There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.
Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.
(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)
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itsravenbitch · 1 year
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how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death
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a little backstory
— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay
kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.
my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.
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the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.
now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘
so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.
— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)
— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.
— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.
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so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).
another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.
so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.
HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.
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— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.
as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.
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when it manifested
the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.
the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.
as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?
so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”
then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.
this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!
anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.
i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂
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so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.
feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾
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j4gm · 7 months
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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS
The finale!
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Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.
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Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.
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This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.
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I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.
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There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.
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This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.
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The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.
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It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.
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The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.
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Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.
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The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.
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I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.
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Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.
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Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.
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This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)
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Some kind of Jake universe.
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A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.
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The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.
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This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.
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Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.
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She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.
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Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.
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There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.
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Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.
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Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.
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In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.
And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...
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its-time-to-write · 6 months
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hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore
this was cute. you were right.
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coffee at midnight
Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.
“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.
But like, it is private.
That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.
It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.
You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.
You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”
You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”
Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”
“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.
You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”
The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”
You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.
“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.
“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.
Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.
“Oh shit,” he says.
You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.
He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”
“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.
The room goes silent. 
“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”
“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”
Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.
“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.
“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”
“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”
Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”
All eyes turn to you.
“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.
The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.
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doomedmoth · 5 days
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Not fast, just furious
Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Warnings : use of y/n, smau, unhinged behavior, alcohol and cigarettes consumption, kys joke, suggestive texts, chaotic fluff, grumpy x sunshine, lando getting bullied
Synopsis : During his winter break in Australia, Daniel meets a barmaid with a big heart and a bigger mouth. When she starts following him during the races, fans are a bit unsure of how to deal with her unhinged behavior and total lack of media training. Daniel loves it.
Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi friends ! Pls be kind, it’s my first attempt at a smau and I’m on mobile, so the formatting might be weird. Also sorry if your name is Malva, it was the first one that came to mind lol.
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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername Walking in the club like we regulars
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yourbff leaving the club like an overworked mom
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melbournemirage our favorite employee 🤩
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yourbrother stop drinking on the job bitch
yourusername get a job before judging me bitch
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[Twitter] f1.driv.updates just posted
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[Messages] Daniel has sent you a text
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*****
[Instagram] wagupdates just posted a photo
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wagupdates New wag alert ?? Daniel Ricciardo has now been seen a few times with an unknown woman around Melbourne and Perth during his winter break. At first thought to be a childhood friend, sources say they met at the bar where the young woman is working, and they have been getting quite cozy 👀 What do you think ??? 📸 via Australian celebrity press
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danyfanclub she looks cuuuute
user1 anyone got her @ ???
user2 apparently he been hanging out at melbournemirage so maybe she works there ???
malva she looks messsyyyy, doubt it’s gonna last till the season starts…
danyfanclub stay mad
*****
[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo
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daniel3.jpg Aussie adventures before going back to vroom vroom
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maxverstappen1 honey come home the kids miss you
Liked by daniel3.jpg
user1 what camera do you use ???
wagupdates do we spy the new girl on the 4th and 7th slide ??? 👀
user2 THANK YOU I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE
user3 sneakyyy
danyfanclub can’t wait to see her in the paddock ‼️
landojpg we missed you at karting mate 🥺
daniel3.jpg sorry, too busy drinking cocktails 🤪
*****
[Messages] Your coworker has sent you a text in Charlie’s Angels
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[Instagram] melbournemirage just posted a photo
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melbournemirage Today we mourn the loss of our best bartender, yourusername . She had been with us for a little over a year now, and was the light of Melbourne Mirage, our pride and joy. She always won employee of the month, and not just because she created and awarded the title herself. A gathering in her memory will be held tonight at 9pm, everyone who knew and loved her is free to attend 💔
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yourbff LMAOOOOO
yourusername WHY THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I’M DEAD I JUST QUITTED ???
melbournemirage sometimes we can still hear her voice… 💔
daniel3.jpg don’t worry I’ll take good care of her 😇
yourcoworker you better 🔪
user4 DANIEL ???
danyfanclub finally we have the @ !!!
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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story
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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story
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[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story
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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername last month stuff
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yourbff damn girl, money suits you well 😍
yourusername right ???
malva wow, gold digger much…
danielricciardo thank you for getting Max to fly us around babe 🥰
maxverstappen1 as if I was not offering after every race…
landonorris why don’t you offer me after every race ???
maxverstappen1 you can walk
landonorris TO SILVERSTONE ???
user1 from barmaid to wag, girl is living the dream life
user2 smoking is not cool girl…
yourusername minding your own fckn business is tho
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[Twitter] paddockwags just posted
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[Twitter] yourusername just posted
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[Messages] my sun 🌞 has sent you a text
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*****
[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo
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daniel3.jpg Sorry my cat bites, I found her in the streets. She’s a good girl irl.
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yourusername don’t reveal my secrets 🙄 (love you)
daniel3.jpg the world has to know ❤️‍🔥 (love you more)
lilymhe I can confirm the good girl part
yourusername I’ll be the best for you 🥵
alex_albon HM EXCUSE ME ???
danyfanclub ppl love to hate on her because she’s not trained like a nepo baby but honestly relatable queen !!
user1 boy is simping so hard
user2 she looks so fun to be around, finally a wag that doesn’t look fake
malva yeah she definitely got the street cat look…
user3 OMG GET A FUCKING LIFE GIRL
danyfanclub being this salty won’t make him like you go get a grip
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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story
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user1 replied to your story :
Did you and Daniel break up ???
malva replied to your story :
fucking finally, so looooong
danielricciardo replied to your story :
have fuuuun, I’ll call you when my plane lands 🐶
******
[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername Back where everything started. I know I sound like a bitch sometimes, but to my love, my sun, my pup, I am so glad I met you 6 months ago. You turned my life around and I can’t wait for more shenanigans with you. You make any place feel like home. I love you. To everyone else, especially those who thought we broke up because I had the audacity to go home two days before him : Fuck you all ❤️
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melbournemirage we were so happy to have you back, even for just a night ! Soon a #speeddating night at the Melbourne Mirage everyone ? 👀
Liked by yourusername
yourusername stop promoting yourself on my account
maxverstappen1 glad to have met you this year bro
yourusername #mates4life
user1 I didn’t know they were so close !!
danielricciardo my love ❤️‍🔥
yourusername my sun 🌞
user2 highway looking pretty good for a nap rn
user3 goooosh they are so cute I’m gonna kms
danyfanclub FROM THE MAIN ACCOUNT TOO ‼️
malva still not buying it
This user has been blocked
yourbrother you did not have to come back so soon
yourusername jeez 🤡 at least pretend to be happy for the gifts you little shit
yourbrother thx I guess
yourusername you’re adopted
landonorris can you bring me back some Tim Tam ? 🥺
danielricciardo no ❤️
yourbff no ❤️
yourusername no and kys ❤️
landonorris damn 🥺
318 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 4 months
Note
Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3
I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.
The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)
I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">
A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!
Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI
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It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.
You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.
You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.
You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.
You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.
JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.
He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.
“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.
He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.
“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.
“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”
“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”
Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.
“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”
“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”
“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.
“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.
–X–
After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.
Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.
You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.
The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.
You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.
“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.
Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.
You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.
“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.
More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.
You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.
“Spencer! What's… what are…”
“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.
“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”
You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.
“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”
His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.
“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”
“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”
His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.
His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.
“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.
“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”
His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.
You didn't.
Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.
Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.
He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.
He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.
You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.
It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.
The next one was harder though. It was real.
“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.
“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”
His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.
The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.
You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.
You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.
“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.
It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.
It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.
He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.
“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.
“Y-Yes, Spencer.”
“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”
With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.
With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.
With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.
It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.
You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.
His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.
You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.
Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.
And most importantly, he didn't stop.
Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.
“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”
“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.
“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”
“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”
Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.
But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.
“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”
“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”
He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.
“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.
When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.
After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.
He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.
“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 months
Text
THE USUAL
A/N: i fell down a rabbithole of AI pics and this was inspired by those👀
WORD COUNT: 2.2k
SUMMARY: It's a slow day at the diner, everyone is in a post-Christmas haze. However yours clears up when your favorite stranger shows up, smug as always but this time some nasty bruises are all over his handsome face.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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The days after Christmas feel like you’re just floating through the void. Nothing feels real, you have no sense of time and it’s all a blur.
This year you’re working on the 27th, most of your colleagues have families so you wanted them to have an extra day at home. All that’s waiting for you at home is your leftover takeout, unfolded laundry and reruns of Home Alone. Working at least gets you out of your cave.
It’s always a slow day, the diner is almost entirely empty, only a few of the regulars are occupying their usual spots by the counter or in their booth. It’s just you and Molly, the college girl waiting tables, she was keen on escaping her family as soon as possible after the holidays, and then Jeff is back in the kitchen probably playing on his phone, because it’s so dead here. 
You like to keep yourself busy even when there’s nothing to do. Wipe down the tables, rearrange the shelves, get rid of old receipts from behind the counter. In a weird way this place feels like a second home, you’ve spent most of your time here the past three years, working 50 hours a week usually. Of course you like to keep it clean and organized. 
You’re watering the plants when you near the booth in the corner and you can’t help but think of who usually occupies it. You can see his signature smile in front of you, the way his eyes follow your every move, his smooth voice is ringing in your ears as he greets you. You know so many tiny details about him, yet you know he is just a stranger. You know his name, his order, you know how you get butterflies in your stomach every time the bell rings above the door and you see him walk in, but nothing more.
He is a mystery. A very handsome one, might you add.
It’s been weeks since the last time he wandered into the diner, but still, every time a tall curly haired man walks inside, for a split second you think it’s him, as if you’re expecting him to show up. 
A family of four comes in around five so at least you have a table to tend, they order hamburgers and pancakes and you listen to the kids rave about the gifts they got from Santa. 
Once they leave you clean up after them and grab the trash to take out. You’re mindlessly humming the song that was playing inside as you drag the bags out to the back where the containers are. The lighting is not the best out here, you’re usually cautious when you step out after sunset, but somehow you’re too caught up in your thoughts to look around this time. So when you throw one of the bags into the container and a tall figure steps closer from somewhere next to it, you jump with a squeak.
“Not even a proper scream, Darling? What if it was someone else?”
Harry, your mysterious stranger walks over to you with a charming smirk, his hands hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. 
“Shut up, why were you hiding there?!” you scold him with a hand on your chest as you wait for your pulse to slow down. 
“Was just having a cig, no hiding.”
“Why didn’t you come inside?”
“Mm, I think I need the cold air right now.”
It’s only now that you notice the nasty bruise on the side of his face. A curl is kind of covering it, but it’s noticeably there and very likely fresh. There’s a cut too, obviously bloody and it hasn’t been treated. 
“Harry…” you breathe out as you step closer and without hesitation, you reach up, brush his hair out of his face to see his wound. The pad of your finger touches the cut and his face flinches the tiniest bit before he moves his head away, the smug look back on his face.
“Nothing to worry about.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“And you’re worrying,” he cheekily replies.
“What happened?”
“Just a bit of a disagreement,” he shrugs his shoulders.
Your gaze moves down his arms subconsciously, because somehow, deep down you know that if someone did this to him, there’s no way he didn’t fight back. And if he did, then his hands…
He notices you staring at his hidden hands and with a defeated sigh he pulls them out, revealing his bruised knuckles. 
“Nothing to worry about?!” you snap as you take his right hand, running the pad of your thumb over the dark red, purple and almost black marks gently. 
“It’ll heal. Not my first rodeo.”
It was supposed to be a joke, you see the smirk on his face, but it just bubbles anxiety in the pit of your stomach, thinking of all the times he ended up beaten up before. You feel silly for caring so much, it shouldn’t matter, but you can’t help it. 
“Hey,” he says, seeing the look on your face, his voice now soft and tender as his bruised hand takes yours. “I’m fine, really. I didn’t mean to worry you, that’s why I didn’t go inside.”
“Then why did you come here?”
You look him in the eyes as he hesitates before answering.
“Wanted to see you. I saw you through the window and decided not to go inside. I was about to leave when you came out.”
He sounds honest and you’re not sure what to think of his words. He gets into a fight, comes here to see you but then doesn’t come inside so you don’t see his wounds. Why did he come here? Were you his first thought?
“Let me clean that cut up,” you then say, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach that are now very much awake. 
“No need, Darling. I’ll be fine–”
“I know you’re a big boy and you’ll be fine on your own, but let me do this one thing so I’ll worry less about you.”
His lips press together into a thin line before he finally nods. He lets go of your hand and grabs the other trash bag you dropped when he came out of the dark, he throws it into the container and gestures for you to go inside, he’ll be following you. 
It’s still just as dead inside as before, so no one notices when you bring him into the restroom that’s for the staff. He closes the toilet seat and sits on top, watching you snatch the first aid kit from under the sink. 
“How was Christmas?”
He asks while you grab everything you need from the kit and angle his head so you see the cut clearly. It looks worse in the light, but you swallow down your theories of how he got it and just start to clean it.
“Fine. Quiet.”
“No big family get together?”
“No family,” you correct him with a straight face and you see the surprise on his face. He stays quiet for a bit before speaking up again.
“You spent it alone?”
“Yeah.”
“What about friends?”
“Don’t have many. I’m usually working. I like my colleagues but we’re not close enough to spend Christmas together,” you explain with a shrug, gently tapping a cotton ball drenched in alcohol on the cut, earning a hiss from him. His hand comes up to your hip out of instinct and you stop at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. His grip is firm and warm and it makes you think of how it would feel if you weren’t wearing your uniform. 
Your eyes lock with his for a second before he removes his hand.
“Sorry.”
You just shake your head, almost disappointed at the lack of his touch, but force yourself to return to the cut.
“So then spend Christmas with me next year,” he speaks up after a while, the corners of his mouth curling up in a cheeky grin.
“Sure,” you chuckle.
“I’m serious. We can have a feast, watch Christmas movies, anything you want.”
“Don’t you have anyone to spend the holidays with?”
“I’m usually with friends, but I would trade that in a heartbeat to be with you.”
Oh fuck, he is so smooth!
He is definitely turning you into a giddy little girl, as if he knew what to say to make you melt, but you try your best to mask just how much his words affect you. Shaking your head with a smile you just continue tending to his wound without a word. 
“Ow, she is silent, not a good sign,” he teases you as you put on a few butterfly bandages on the cut to help it heal prettier. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Nope,” you shake your head avoiding looking at him. “And you’re all done.”
You turn back to the sink, busying yourself with packing up the kit, but you see him standing up in the mirror and stepping right behind you, so close that if you leaned just a tiny bit back, you’d bump against his chest. 
“Y/N, would you look at me with those pretty eyes, please?” he asks and you have to take a deep, shaky breath before forcing yourself to look up and meet his gaze in the mirror. He brings his face down a bit, so his cheek brushes against the side of your head and you finally give in. 
Moving your weight back you lean against him and his arms curl around your waist instantly, as if he’s been waiting for this all along. His embrace is welcoming, warm and you fit into his arms perfectly. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.
“It’s just a few bandages,” you whisper.
“No, not for that. Thank you for caring, Y/N.”
Your knees would probably give up if he wasn’t holding you up. His words sink into your mind and burn into your memory forever. Even if you never see him again, you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life, how he just made you feel, how the connection felt unbreakable and irresistible.
Not able to speak, you just let yourself sink further in his hold, turning your head a bit so his lips meet with your forehead. You’re not sure if they just brush against your skin or he kisses you, you’re burning up way too much to decide but whichever it is, it’s just drawing you even closer to him.
His hands move to your hips and he gently turns your body until you’re facing him, wedged between him and the sink. His eyes find yours again and you imagine a thousand possible things that could happen right now. Yet, when he opens his mouth, the words still surprise you.
“I care about you too.”
Your lips part and you suck on your breath. Maybe it’s his charm, maybe it’s the force pulling you towards him or maybe it’s how long you’ve been on your own, but you feel so weak yet so courageous in this moment. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you know what’s about to come and you are so ready–
“Y/N? You in there?”
Molly’s voice is coming from outside with a knock on the door, completely shattering the moment.
“Yeah,” you call out. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that woman, Jo, I think? She’s here and she only wants you to take her order.”
Jo is a regular and she always insists on having you as her waitress, because she thinks only you know how to put her order in right. You do nothing differently, but she doesn’t know that.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
You wait until you hear her footsteps go down the hallway. Harry moves back just enough so that he is not pressed up against you anymore and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip while you put the first aid kit away.
“I need to go back.”
“I know,” he smiles at you. “Is my booth free?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I’m feeling quite hungry.”
His eyes return to your lips and you know he is not talking about the food right now and you wish to have just a little more time with him right now, but you need to go out. 
“You can’t come out from here,” you simply tell him. So when you step out of the restroom you turn him towards the back door and give him a push. You hear his chuckle, but he doesn’t protest, just walks out.
When you return Molly is eyeing you with suspicion and you wonder if she heard Harry’s voice in the restroom before knocking, but you ignore her and start stacking the glasses.
The front door opens, the bell rings and you don’t have to look up to know that it’s Harry.
“Good evening, ladies,” he greets you and you finally glance at him only to see that smug smirk on his face as he walks over to his usual booth and slides in. 
“I assume you’re taking him, right?” Molly asks with an arched eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a menu even though you know what he’ll order and walking over to his booth with your notepad and pen you stop by the table and look at him, unable to hold back a smile. “What can I get you?”
“The usual, Darling.”
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joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
to do the right thing l part iii
Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
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series masterlist
summary: You go into labor earlier than expected in the QZ; Joel and Tess help you deliver the baby; after giving birth, you and Joel follow through with a heartbreaking decision.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption. mentions of dead bodies, child death (not what you think), descriptions of childbirth. angst. soft, protective Joel.
word count: 7.9k
a/n: Please do not hate me. That is all. (:
June, 2020
 Disposing of the infected was a shity job.
But then again, most of the civilian jobs in the Boston QZ were pretty fucking shitty.
Still. This particular one had to be the absolute shittiest of the shitty.
Having to haul dozens upon dozens of dead bodies, the accidental inhale of soot and smoke even through your makeshift mask, not to mention, the nauseating smell of burning human flesh—you’d hated getting assigned to this work detail before, but now that you were only just a few weeks shy of being nine months pregnant, it felt like actual fucking hell on earth. And, to make matters even worse, Joel had been asked by one of the officials to head over to a different site and work a different job at the very last minute. He wasn’t by your side to lend you a hand like he usually did. Before being forced by authorities to leave the site, Joel instructed you to find a familiar face and do whatever you could do to get someone to help you when you needed it.
Luckily, on the other side of the open fire pit, you’d spotted Kevin. A younger man in his early twenties, you knew Kevin was something of an avid pill popper and one of Joel’s secret regulars. In exchange for a couple of oxycodone pills that you produced from the pockets of Joel’s jacket you were wearing, he had agreed to help you haul the heavier bodies and toss them in the fire pit.
“You know, you used to be real strong,” Kevin mused out loud as he took the shoulders of a heftier male body. Through a labored grunt, he continued, “You never needed anybody's help.”
You narrowed your eyes at him as you took the lower half of the body into your arms, taking subtle care not to strain yourself to the point of hurting yourself—or the baby. “Shut up and move, Kevin.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Seriously, Kevin,” You managed to say to him through gritted teeth as you helped him carry the body. “I’ll throw in another fucking pill if you just shut the fuck up, how about that?”
“Never used to be so cranky, either. Jesus, Miller’s really rubbing off on you, isn’t he?”
Ignoring him, you inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it as you two lifted the body and flung it into the pit. As you turned back towards the canopied pickup truck for the next one, your eyes fell on the tiniest little body that you had ever seen and you simply froze, a chill running up the length of your spine.
While it wasn’t the first time that you’d ever had to dump the body of an infected child, this one had to be the smallest—the youngest. Though his head had been covered with a brown, burlap sack just like the rest of the bodies, anyone with two fucking eyes and half of one brain cell could guess that he was, at most, around the age of a toddler.
“Jesus,” You whispered, noticing the dirty, bloodied white bandage around his teeny little arm. That’s where he’d been infected.
Kevin’s voice came from behind you. “Oh come on, this can’t be your first time seeing a kid, right?”
Your mouth had gone as dry as sandpaper. “I—I’ve never seen one this young,” You told him, feeling your heart sink into your stomach. “He couldn’t have been older than three or something.” Unable to fathom what had to come next, you turned to Kevin and shook your head. “I’ll need you to do this one. I just can’t.”
“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.” He raised an eyebrow and looked around before lowering his voice. “Just as long as you go back home tonight and let that guarddog boyfriend of yours know how much I helped you out, you know, since he wasn’t around to do it himself.” He paused, his beady, dark little eyes twinkling in sheer delight. “Maybe a two for the price of one discount during our next business transaction would be an appropriate way for him to show me some gratitude?”
If Joel could see the smirk on Kevin’s face, he’d knock it right off with his fist.
“Greedy motherfucker, aren’t you?” You muttered under your breath, before finally nodding your head in agreement. “Fine. I’ll make sure Joel hooks it up on your next deal.” Fat chance of that happening.
Satisfied, Kevin grinned and pushed past you, picking up the child’s body.
Unable to bring yourself to watch him toss it into the roaring flames, you hurriedly walked around to the side of the pickup truck, yanking down the red bandana you used as a mask down from over your nose and mouth. Placing a hand on the side of the truck, you hunched over and closed your eyes for a brief second. “Jesus Christ,” You groaned in a whisper to yourself. “I think I’m going to be fucking sick.”
You half expected to toss your afternoon crackers right there onto the pavement in front of you. However, instead, just a split second later, you felt a sudden cramp in the middle of your pelvis—subtle, but still enough to make you wince. It was immediately followed by a feeling of intense pressure between your legs. Before your mind could even wrap itself around what was happening, there was a gush between your thighs, and warm liquid started trickling down the sides of your legs.
Shit.
Terrified, you glanced down.
Though they were dirty, you could distinctly see the wet patches on your faded, dark blue jeans. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s too fucking early—”
“Hey! What the hell are you doing over here? Who the fuck said you could stop and take a break?” One of the FEDRA officials who had been assigned to stand guard at the work site came up behind you, his weapon gripped tightly in his hands. When you whirled around to face him, his eyes fell and instantly noticed your soaked jeans. A look of disgust crossed his face. “Jesus. Did you just fucking piss yourself?”
“No—” You stopped yourself, realizing this could be your ticket out of there. “Yeah,” You replied, nodding your head, causing him to let out a repulsed noise. “Sorry. I just saw a little kid, must have made me—”
He held up one of his hands, stopping you. “Save it. I don’t give two shits,” he told you with a shake of his head. “Get your ass home right now and change your clothes, then come back. Make it quick. There’s still a lot of work to be done around here. Understood?”
You nodded again. The muscles in your pelvic area tightened and the feeling drew the tiniest of sharp breaths from you—your contractions were starting. “Yeah,” You managed to say to the official, keeping a straight face. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
He dismissively waved you away with his weapon and then stalked off back over to his post.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned on your heel and started to make your way back to the apartment as quickly as possible.
Although the building was about a mile and a half up the road, it felt like you were trekking your way across the fucking country. You felt two more contractions along the way, and while their intensity was still pretty low in such an early stage of your labor, they still hurt like hell. They started around your lower back and gradually moved around to the front of your pelvis. You tried to push past the discomfort in order to get home as quick as possible, but every now and again, you found yourself having to stop in the middle of the sidewalk for just a brief second or two, only long enough to recollect and remind yourself that you needed to get a goddamn grip before someone noticed your strange behavior. Once the building finally came into your view, all you could do was silently pray that by some fucking miracle, Joel would be up there in that apartment, home from work detail.
Your prayer went unanswered.
When you opened the door to your quarters and walked inside, you’d found Tess home by herself. She was sitting at the table, sipping on a glass of whiskey and mindlessly flipping through a decades old newspaper.
“Tess,” You said her name, causing her to look up. “Where’s Joel?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’s fucking happening.”
Tess stared at you, her eyes widening slightly. “Wait, what?”
“The baby’s coming,” You informed her, pointing down to your damp jeans. Though you were panicking on the inside, you tried your best to remain as calm as humanly possible. “Where the fuck is Joel?”
Tess tossed aside her newspaper and stood up from the table. “I told you, I don’t know. I know he was reassigned but I’m not sure where—he sure as hell wasn’t with me.” She walked over to you, taking you by the elbow. She pulled you over towards the couch and helped you sit down. “I thought you said it would be at least a few more weeks before the baby came.”
You couldn’t help but shoot her an annoyed look. “Well, he’s coming now, Tess. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“How long ago did it start?”
“About half an hour ago, maybe. I was at the pits and my water broke after I saw—” You trailed off, deciding the details of what you had seen back at the work site weren’t necessary to disclose to her. “I’ve had a couple of contractions, but they’re pretty far apart.”
“It could be several hours before the baby comes, but there’s still no fucking way that we’ll be able to get you over to Bill and Frank’s in time.” Tess chewed anxiously on her bottom lip as she wracked her brain for any other possible options—it took her mere seconds to realize that there weren’t any other options. “You’re going to have to give birth here.”
“Fantastic,” You deadpanned, leaning back into the couch.
“Okay, here’s the deal. You stay put and I’m going to go out and find Joel. I know there’s a couple of places where he might have been assigned and if I’m right, I can be back with him quickly.” Tess pulled off her watch from her wrist. It was old and cracked, but otherwise, it still worked fine. “I need you to time your contractions. Try and be as accurate as possible.” She then reached into the back pocket of her jeans, producing a red handkerchief.  She handed it to you along with the watch. “Listen. I know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to be as quiet as possible. Last thing we need is for someone to hear you and come running in here, especially while I’m gone. If you need to, you bite down on this to keep quiet, alright?”
You swallowed harshly, taking both of the items with nearly trembling fingers. “Alright.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to find Joel and we’ll be back,” she promised you. “You stay right here, okay?”
“Because I’m such a fucking flight risk right now?”
“Even during labor, you’re still a fucking smartass, huh?” Tess rolled her eyes and reached for her jacket. 
You watched her as she readied herself to take off. “Tess?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurry. Please.”
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“Fuck,” You hissed, both of your hands planted on your lower back as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, trying your best to breathe your way through another contraction.
 It had been over an hour and a half and Tess still hadn’t returned with Joel.
Your labor was progressing a lot quicker than you’d anticipated and while it could still be at least a couple more hours before the baby was born, you were still terrified at the mere thought of having to deliver him alone. You needed Joel—you didn’t want to have to do this without him.
“Jesus, fuck,” You cursed through clenched teeth. The waves of pain that were coming at you were almost enough to physically knock you off of your feet and right onto your ass. Tess had been smart to give you her handkerchief. During one particularly painful contraction, you’d shoved it into your mouth, muffling your cries of agony.
Another hour had passed and you were genuinely starting to believe that you were indeed going to have to give birth to the baby all alone in that apartment. “Where the fuck are you guys?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps something had happened to them—Joel and Tess had spent ample amounts of time in FEDRA lockup for the stunts that they pulled and it wouldn’t surprise you if they had gone and done something stupid, putting themselves behind bars for the night.
In an attempt to keep your mind from continuously wandering to worst case scenarios, you walked over to the kitchen sink and quickly filled up a large, chipped porcelain bowl with water. You rummaged around for the cleanest washcloth that you could find and then picked up the bowl in your hands, taking care not to spill as you hastily made your way around the single wall that divided the kitchen from the bedroom. You placed the bowl of water on top of the old, cherrywood dresser that separated yours and Joel’s bed from Tess’s bed and immediately started peeling off your dirty clothes. Wanting to hurry before another contraction came along, you dipped the cloth into the water and started running it all over your body, wiping away any soot and dirt that you’d brought home from the work site.
After you had finished cleaning yourself off as best as you possibly could under the circumstances, you searched through the drawers and grabbed one of Joel’s cleaner t-shirts, tugging it over your head. Even with the size of your swollen midsection, his shirt still fit you loosely enough, the hem of it falling to the top of your thighs. You’d finished just in time—another contraction starting coming on and you dropped down onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress as you hunched over in a world of hurt. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
As it subsided, the sound of the front door opening caused your head to snap up and your heart to skip a beat. Had you been too loud? Or perhaps a neighbor had walked by and heard you?
“Baby?” Joel’s deep voice filled the small apartment. When he appeared around the wall and saw you, a look of utter relief crossed his face and he rushed over to you, Tess following behind him. He crouched down in front of you, both of his hands flying up to the sides of your face. “M’sorry darlin’, I got here as fast I could—”
Though you could have nearly cried from happiness that he was right there in front of you, you found yourself snapping at him, “What took you so fucking long? It’s been fucking hours!”
Tess jumped to Joel’s defense. “I’m sorry, it’s on me! It’s my fault. It took me forever just to fucking find his ass and then we had to find a way to sneak him away from the work site without anyone noticing,” she explained, holding her hands up. “Not to mention, he was on the other end of the fucking QZ. We got here as fast as we could—how far apart are they coming?”
You winced. The truth was, you’d been so busy trying to get through the contractions that you hadn’t been timing them at all. “About that.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I gave you one fucking job—”
“Look, they’re still decently far apart by a few minutes.” You placed a hand on your stomach, suddenly admitting, “But I do feel the urge to push already.”
Joel’s hands slowly dropped from your face and he glanced over his shoulder and up at Tess, looking confused. “Think it’s time?”
She shook her head. “I know it’s going to feel like you need to push as you get closer, but don’t,” she warned you, firmly. “Not yet. They need to come closer together, about a minute to thirty seconds apart. If you start to push too early, you could hurt the baby. Or tear yourself apart.” Tess took off her jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. “Joel, keep her as comfortable as you can. I’m going to start gathering some supplies. She may not be ready to push now, but I’m thinking within the hour, it’ll be time.”
“Within the hour?” You nearly squeaked.
Joel turned back to you and cupped your face again. The familiarity of his rough, calloused hands on your skin brought some calmness, not enough to completely take your fears away, but just enough that you were able to stay somewhat level headed, even through every single emotion that you were feeling. “Baby, I know you're scared,” he said, his thumb grazing against your cheek. “But I promise you, everythin’ is gonna be just fine, alright? Look at me, right here, look at me,” he urged as he held your face firmly in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re gonna be fine. I won’t let anythin’ happen to you.”
“Joel, it’s childbirth,” You reminded him, smiling wearily. “Don’t make a promise you don’t know if you can actually keep.”
Though he knew deep down inside that you had a point, he repeated himself. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to you. Okay?”
You offered him a small, meek nod. “Okay.”
Joel lifted himself, pressing his lips gently to yours. He pulled away, murmuring against your lips, “That’s my girl.”
The hour that followed had been nothing short of horrific—the pain had become almost unbearable by this point. There wasn’t a single inch of your entire body that wasn’t drenched, soaked in perspiration. Your hair was an absolute mess, plastered to your forehead and to the sides of your face. Tess sat on her bed, waiting on standby for when it was time to deliver. Meanwhile, Joel, could only hold your hand in his and watch helplessly as you tried not to cry out too loudly.
“Joel,” You nearly pleaded his name, as if pleading for him to take his gun and put you out of your misery.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, squeezing your hand in both of his. “I know it hurts.”
“What if I can’t do this?”
“Sorry, sweet darlin’ but you don’t have much of a choice,” he reminded you. He looked and sounded so fucking tired, so fucking exhausted—and he was. He was exhausted from having to sit there and witness you hurt while there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.
Once the contractions started coming in at less than a minute apart, Tess checked you. “I can feel the head. It’s time to start pushing,” she announced. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, she started giving you instructions. “You’re going to bear all the way down into your bottom as hard as you can. We’ll do ten second counts with short, quick rests in between each push until he comes out. Alright?”
You just about panicked. “Joel—”
“M’right here,” he quickly assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”
During the process, Joel had decided to sit behind you, his long legs on either side of you as he held you up at just a couple degrees shy of a ninety degree angle. Tess kneeled on the mattress between your legs, holding your knees apart as she counted through each push out loud for you.
You sank your front teeth hard into your bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth as you tried your hardest from screaming out.
“One, two, three, four—” Tess counted the numbers aloud until she reached the number ten. She watched you as you released a breath, and tapped your knee gently. “Come on, we’re almost there. He’s right there, you’re so fucking close. The harder you push, the quicker this will all be over. So give me one more big, strong push, alright?”
Joel squeezed your shoulders, his lips at your ear as he whispered to you over and over again, “C’mon baby, we’re almost there. It’s almost over.”
You were completely spent, exhausted both physically and mentally beyond what mere words could even explain. Close or not, you simply didn’t have it in you to keep going.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” You moaned, shaking your head as you slumped back against his chest, your head falling into his shoulder. Your body felt like it was just moments away from giving out on you. “I can’t do it, Joel. I just can’t fucking do this—”
“You can and you fucking will,” Tess all but snapped at you, forcing your knees further apart. “Come on, all I need is one more push. Just one fucking more.”
“But—”
“Baby, please,” Joel begged into your neck. “You have to do this.”
You whimpered. They were right—you didn’t have a choice.
“Okay. One more.” You gave a small, weak nod of your head.
Joel helped you sit back up into the previous position, using his body to help support yours. He kissed the back of your head, his hands on your shoulders again. “Good girl,” he praised, bracing himself to help you through the tail end of the delivery.
“Alright, let’s do this.” Tess positioned herself, her hands ready to receive the baby once he was born. “On the count of three. One, two, three—and push. Come on, that’s it. Come on.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you followed her encouraging words, bearing down as hard as you could muster while Joel counted you through that last strenuous push. “Baby’s out!” Tess nearly cried, and you quickly opened your eyes to see her holding the baby in her arms. 
“Is he okay?” You panted, your chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. Only mere seconds had passed, but already you found yourself in a state of anxiety over the fact that the baby hadn’t made a single sound yet. “He hasn’t cried—why hasn’t he cried?”
“She,” Tess corrected you, her eyes fixed on the newborn as she worked to clean her off with a damp washcloth. She rubbed her chest in quick, firm circles in an attempt to get her to take her first breath.
Your heart skipped a beat—you’d had a girl?
Behind you, Joel inhaled sharply, his body stiffening.
You watched in concern, your lips parted slightly at the sight before you. Not having the proper tools to clear the child’s airway, Tess tried everything and anything that she could think of to help the baby breathe. As the seconds turned into a minute, and then into two, your heart had all but climbed its way up your throat—never had you heard a silence so deafening.
“Tess,” Joel said her name, his tone dangerously low.
“Fuck Joel, I’m trying here!” Tess snapped at him. She let out a small, frustrated sigh and then turned the baby over onto her forearm. She started patting the infant’s back with her opposite hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Come on, you’re alright. Please breathe. Please—”
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the baby sputtered and let out a wet cough before a small, quick cry filled the entire apartment. 
“Fuck,” You breathed out in complete and utter relief. You sagged back against Joel, who’d also released the breath he’d been holding.
“Shh,” Tess soothed her, flipping the baby back over and bouncing her in her arms in an attempt to quiet her.  
Joel carefully climbed out from behind you, helping you to lean back, up against the wall. “You alright?”
“Better now that I know she’s okay.”
“She’s small, definitely at least a couple of weeks premature, but she looks healthy,” Tess observed. She single handedly clamped the cord, cutting it with a pair of sharp shears before she finished cleaning her off. She reached for the flannel throw blanket next to her, however upon picking it up, she had realized it wasn’t a blanket at all. It was Joel’s flannel jacket, the very same one that you’d worn for most of your pregnancy. But it had been washed the day before and it would do for the time being. Tess wrapped the baby in the jacket before easing her into your arms. Knowing that you’d never held a baby before, Tess reached out and maneuvered your arms, making sure that you were holding her properly, supporting her head and neck. “That’s it. There you go.”
Your heart swelled to twice its normal size inside of your chest and an inexplicable warmth radiated throughout every fiber of your being the moment you laid your eyes on her sweet, tiny little face. “Hi, there,” You cooed gently to her. “Welcome to the shitshow.”
Tess chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Son of a bitch. We fucking did it.”
“What the hell do you mean we?” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner. The truth of the matter was that you would forever be in her debt for all that she had done to help you, not just through childbirth—through everything. 
You then glanced over at Joel, who stood silently behind her, hands planted on his hips.
He said nothing, but his dark brown eyes were glued to the newborn.
Tess cleared her throat lightly, breaking the momentary silence that had suddenly fallen over the three of you. “I’ll give you a minute to take a breather while I go clean myself up. I’ll be back to show you how to feed her.”
She excused herself, heading off towards the kitchen.
Joel shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “You—uh, you sure you’re alright?”
“Mhm,” You replied with a nod, unable to contain the small smile that crossed your lips as you drank in the sight of the beautiful baby girl in your arms. She had been born with a head full of dark hair—instantly, she reminded you of Joel. “She’s so little.”
Joel said nothing.
Looking up, you noticed the way his eyes took her in—the same way yours did. 
Part of you almost wanted to ask him if he wanted to hold her.
But you knew better.
“We’ll radio Bill and Frank tomorrow in the morning to let them know she’s here ,” Tess said, coming back into the room. She used a damp cloth to wipe away the blood and other fluids from her forearms. “As soon as you’re able to move, you’ll have to get her over to them.”
Your face fell slightly. “Wait, how soon are we talking?”
“Thinking maybe in a couple days—soon as you can walk.”
Your heart sank deeply into your chest.
Just a couple of days? 
That’s all you would get with her?
Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel nodded. “Tess is right,” he agreed. “We can’t hide a cryin’ baby in this apartment for too long without someone catchin’ on. The sooner we get her over to Bill and Frank’s, the better.”
You somehow managed to swallow the lump of emotion that had risen in your throat as you looked back down at her tiny face—your daughter’s tiny face.
“Think of a name for her yet?” Tess asked you, tossing her dirty cloth aside.
Joel quickly stepped in and answered for you. “Best you don’t.”
“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. Although neither of you had discussed it, you’d thought that at the very least Joel would allow you to name your child—his child.
“The less attached you are to her, the better.” His tone was short, almost curt. “Less harder it’ll be.”
Even Tess was taken by surprise. “Joel, come on. Are you fucking seri—?”
He held up a hand to stop her. Whirling around on the hell of his boot, Joel said over his shoulder as he left the room, “I’ll be outside. Need some air.”
Your lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. “I guess he’s right.”
The mattress squeaked, shifting slightly as Tess took a seat right next to you on the bed. “You know it’s going to hurt him too,” she told you, quietly. “He’ll never admit it. But when the time comes, it’ll hurt him too.”
“I know,” You whispered, grazing the baby’s cheek lightly with the tip of your index finger.
“Joel loves you, you know.”
Tess’s words caught you by surprise. “Tess—don’t. You don’t need to do this.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “You know, I never thought that man could be capable of loving anyone else ever again, not in this life. Hell, I tried for fucking years just to get him to feel a fraction of what I felt for him and nothing.” Her voice became thick with the emotions that she’d undoubtedly been suppressing for the last few years. “I don’t know what is about you, what drew him to you. But he does love you. More than fucking anything.”
“He’ll probably never admit that either.”
Tess smiled sadly. “I know.”
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The five hour trip on foot from the Boston QZ to Lincoln was one that you had gotten used to over the last couple of years, but this trip had been something of a struggle for you, to say the very least.
Between being only a couple of days postpartum, having to make frequent stops to feed the baby, and having her strapped tightly to your chest in a makeshift baby carrier—which in reality was actually just a bedsheet that wrapped around your upper body—you felt quite worn out by the time you and Joel finally made it to Bill and Frank’s.
“Come in, come in,” Frank placed a hand gently on your back as he ushered you inside of the house. “How are you doing? Are you okay?” He tossed a little glare over his shoulder at Joel. “Shame on you for making her walk three days after giving birth! Surely you could have waited at least a few more days before making the trip?”
Joel let out a small, impatient huff and rolled his eyes in response.
“We didn’t wanna risk being caught with her,” You quickly explained as he led you both into the living room. “Our walls are paper thin and she cries real loud. We didn’t wanna risk having the neighbors reporting us to FEDRA.”
“She’s a crier?” Bill, who kept his distance, scoffed. “Great.”
“Oh, stop it, Bill. I’m sure she’ll be a very good baby,” Frank waved his hand dismissively at him. 
“Can you guys help me unwrap?” You asked, lightly tugging at the sheet. “This thing is so uncomfortable.”
Both Joel and Frank helped untie and remove it from around your body.
“Oh my word.” Frank’s hand flew to his mouth and tears instantly welled in his eyes as soon as saw her. “I never thought I’d see—” He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. He never thought he’d see another child ever again, much less a newborn baby. Frank knew better than to overstep or to push you too quickly, and despite his immediate urge to ask you if he could hold her already, he simply settled for lightly touching his fingertips to her tufts of soft, dark hair. “Oh, she’s so beautiful! Isn’t she beautiful, Bill?”
“Looks like an ordinary baby to me,” he grumbled, though as he eyed the child, there was a strange little glint in his eye. Bill, like Frank, also never thought that he’d ever see something like her again.
Frank sniffed, dabbing his tears away with the back of his hand. “Oh! I have some onesies from the boutique, let me grab one for you,” he stated, realizing that the baby was naked, with the exception of the improvised diaper you had her in. “She’s kind of small, even for a newborn. Do you think she came early?” He asked over his shoulder as he walked over to the other side of the room towards a pile of cardboard boxes. “I know it’s hard to tell what week you reached gestation.”
“We think so,” You said, carefully taking a seat on the couch. “She’s small, but she’s healthy. She eats well, she mostly sleeps through the night unless she wakes up hungry or needing to be changed.”
“Here.” Frank walked back over to you and handed you a cream colored onesie printed with yellow sunflowers. He also handed you a matching cloth diaper. “They’re preemie size, but I have a box of newborn sizes too if they’re too snug on her. You let me know what you think is best, alright?”
It didn’t take you very long to realize that Frank was allowing you just a taste of what it was like to properly and normally care for your baby, just like any mother would in a pre-outbreak world. 
Part of you wished that he wouldn’t bother, but you still appreciated his kindness nonetheless.
Frank laid a soft, pink blanket on the couch for you to lay her on.
As you changed her, you felt Joel watching almost intently.
Since she’d been born, he still hadn’t held her. You didn’t take offense to it, nor did it hurt your feelings that he refused to touch her, because you knew how he was feeling—what he was feeling. You would often catch him stealing long, lingering glances at her whenever he’d think you weren’t paying attention. Deep down in your heart, you knew he ached to interact with her, that he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and give into his paternal instincts. But he was simply trying to make this process as painless for himself as possible. Joel didn’t want to risk developing any kind of attachment to her. 
“Does she have a name?” Frank asked, holding his hands behind his back as he watched you button up the onesie. At this point, he was itching to hold her for the first time, but he wanted to respect what little time you had left to interact with her.
Sure, you would be able to see her every now and again, but Joel was adamant of keeping visits to a minimum.
“She doesn’t,” You replied in a soft voice. “We didn’t name her.”
Joel, who had taken a seat in the rocking chair next to the couch, raked a hand through his hair as Frank shot him glare, as if he knew whose idea it had been to not give her a name. “S’only right for you two to choose a name. We ain’t got no business givin’ her a name.”
“He’s right,” You said, before Frank could protest. “It’s best we leave that to you and Bill.”
Frank touched your shoulder. The sympathy in his eyes nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. Wanting to allow for a brief change of subject, he offered, “How about we all have a bite to eat? Hmm? Surely you must be starving after that long walk.”
You forced a small smile. Food was the last thing on your mind. “That would be nice,” you fibbed. 
For the rest of the afternoon, you refused to put the baby down.
Your arms ached from holding her for so long—but you couldn’t care less. It was one ache that you would happily deal with for the rest of your natural born life if it meant never having to let her go.
Frank had been completely understanding of your desire to keep her with you for as long as you possibly could. Being the incredibly sweet, kind soul that he was, he showed you nothing but patience and didn’t question you, nor did he push you or grill you on whether or not you had changed your mind about leaving her in their care. Bill, being Bill, had muttered a few, passive aggressive incoherencies towards you under his breath over lunch—something about how for someone who claimed they wouldn’t have a problem giving up their baby, you sure as hell seemed to have a hard time letting her out of your grasp.
However, once the late afternoon finally rolled around, you knew that the time for you to say goodbye was on the horizon. As much as you fucking wished you could, there was no changing your mind, not if you wanted your daughter to live safely, happily.
“Bill? Frank? Do you think we can have a minute with her, just the two of us?” You asked them. You had all moved back into the living room after lunch. Knowing time was running out, you hoped that you and Joel could have one last moment alone with her before it was time to leave.
“Of course.” Frank nodded and tugged on Bill’s arm. “We’ll be out in the front yard—the plants need some watering.”
You shot him a tiny, grateful smile. As they disappeared, you leaned back into the couch and made yourself comfortable with the baby.
Joel, who sat over in the rocking chair as he had earlier, pursed his lips. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he said, shaking his head at you. “We really should just hand her over and go home.”
“It’s going to be hard no matter what, Joel. May as well enjoy her for a while longer.” You glanced down at her just as she started fussing herself awake. She looked up at you with her dark eyes. “Hello, sweet girl,” You greeted her in a soothing voice as she cooed. 
Joel watched with a heaviness in his heart as you kissed the infant’s cheek delicately. How he wished you would just fucking listen to him.
“You’re going to be safe here,” You told her, lifting your hand to her hair; the ends were beginning to curl slightly. “I know you might grow up and have questions one day, and who knows, maybe when you’re all grown up, you’ll know the truth about everything and you’ll understand why we did what we did.” You paused. “This is the right thing to do, sweet girl. It's the best thing for you. Frank is going to make a great dad, and Bill—well, Bill is Bill. But I know you’ll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time. I promise there’s a softie underneath that grumpy exterior, just have to bring it out of him, is all.” Despite it all, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 
Joel craned his neck ever so slightly to get a better look at her. “She’s so alert,” he observed. “Y’know, for bein’ a couple days old and all.”
You glanced up at him. Somehow, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Joel? Do you want to hold her?”
Joel hesitated. But you were shocked he didn’t immediately decline.
That meant that he did.
You carefully stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to him. Giving her another kiss on the cheek, you held her out towards him.
Joel looked at her reluctantly, but then gave in and took her into his arms. He leaned his weight back into the chair and started rocking, knowing the movement would be soothing for the baby. “She’s got your nose,” he murmured, watching as the motion started luring her into another slumber.
“That head of hair is all you, though,” You told him with a tiny, sad smile. “I’m going to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
Moments later, when you’d returned, you stopped in your tracks out in the hallway when you heard Joel speaking. Furrowing your brows, you leaned your back against the wall and listened in to what he was saying.
“Hi babygirl,” he started, his voice low but gentle. “Everythin’ your mama just told you, well, she’s right. We’re doin’ this to keep you safe. We wanna give you a chance at a decent life. She doesn’t wanna give you up. Neither do I,” he confessed. “But we can’t—I can’t keep you safe. I can barely keep your mama safe most of the time, y’know.”
You hung your head, willing yourself to hold back the tears.
“I didn’t want you, at least not at first,” Joel continued to say, an ever so slight tremble to his voice. “Thought you were the biggest mistake we ever could’ve made. But now that you’re here and I’m holdin’ you in my arms, I realize I was wrong. I’m glad you’re here, babygirl. This world is ugly, but you remind me that there’s still beauty in it. Not a whole lot, but just enough to shine a little light in the darkness.”
Joel paused and as you peeked around into the living room, you saw him press his lips carefully to her cheek, right where you’d kissed her too. “You won’t be ours after today, but that doesn’t really matter. At the end of the day, you’re always gonna hold a place in my heart. Right next to your big sister. Alright?”
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your free hand. As soon as you were certain that he’d said all he had needed to say, you walked into the living room and offered him a sip of your water, behaving as if you hadn’t just heard him pour his heart out to his baby daughter. Joel moved over onto the couch with you and for the next couple of hours, the two of you took turns holding her. By the time early evening arrived, you realized that you and Joel were really pushing it. And knowing Bill, you were absolutely overstaying your welcome.
“So, we just wanted to check in with you two,” Frank said tentatively, nervously wringing his hands together as walked into the room with a very unhappy Bill trailing behind him. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”
You and Joel stood from the couch; he handed the baby over to you.
Your heart lodged in your throat, you walked over to Frank and eased her into his arms. “Here you are.”
Taking a step backwards, you watched as he looked down at her, his face beaming.
“Fatherhood looks good on you,” You couldn’t help but tell him. And you meant it.
Frank was going to make the most incredible, loving father. 
“Does it?” Although he was smiling, he sounded nervous.
“You’re going to be a natural,” You touched his arm lightly. “We know she’s going to be in the best possible care.” Dropping your hand back down to your side, you glanced over at Joel, who stood there silently, his jaw clenched. “We’d better be going.”
“You know you’re more than welcome to come and see her whenever you’d like,” Frank offered. “We really wouldn’t mind that.”
“Don’t take that too literally,” Bill gruffed behind him. “The less visits, the better.”
You nodded, your voice cracking slightly as you said, “We know.”
“Let’s get a move on.” Joel nudged you lightly with his elbow. Did you just hear his voice break a little too?
After one final goodbye, about five minutes later, you and Joel found yourselves on the other side of the fence.
Joel noticed the expression on your face. He could see you crumbling right in front of his very own eyes like a pastry. He didn’t know what to say or do to make it better—hell, he knew nothing was going to make it better. He wanted so badly to reach out and put his arms around you, but he was afraid that one touch would cause you to come undone. “C’mon, we need to get movin’ before it gets too late or we’ll freeze our asses off,” he reminded you quietly. He started leading the way, but turned around when he realized you weren’t following behind him. “Baby—”
And just like that, the sob you’d been fighting finally escaped you.
“I’m sorry, Joel,” You quickly shook your head, trying desperately to stop the tears, but it was too late.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s alright—”
Before Joel could reach out for you, you sank down to your knees on the gravel. You placed your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. You knew it would be hard, but nothing could have prepared you for the god awful feeling of leaving Bill and Frank’s empty handed, without your baby daughter in your arms.
Joel sighed softly and crouched down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Shh, baby. I know,” he tried soothing you, one hand around your shoulders and the other gingerly stroking your hair. “I know.”
Though nightfall was fast approaching, he didn’t push you. He simply held you until you eventually ran out of tears and little hiccups were all that was left. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop fuckin’ sayin’ you’re sorry,” Joel said, squeezing your body against his to keep you warm against the chilly, evening breeze. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for, alright?”
“It hurts. I know we did the right thing, but it hurts so fucking bad.”
Joel pulled away and looked down at you. The sadness was evident in his gaze. “We did do the right thing. She’s going to be safer here than she could ever be with us in the QZ,” he reminded you, as if you didn’t already know that. “At least here, she’ll be well fed. She’ll have running water. She’ll get to enjoy fresh, clean air. She’ll get to run around the front yard and play in the grass. She won’t have to walk home from fuckin’ FEDRA school past a fire pit full of burnin’ bodies every goddamn day.”
“Maybe it’s just me being selfish, but that doesn’t make it hurt any fucking less, Joel,” You confessed, the guilt causing a fresh batch of tears to brim your eyes. “I know we’ll still get the chance to see her every now and again, but it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough for me.”
He leaned down, leaning his forehead against yours. “I know. Won’t ever be enough for me either.”
You closed your eyes, another tear finding its way down your cheek. “How the fuck are you supposed to go on when you feel like a part of your heart is missing?”
“You just do,” Joel whispered. “You just move on. Try to, anyway.” He rose to his feet and pulled you up with him. “When I lost Sarah, I had nothing. Nobody. Tommy wasn’t someone I could count on, he was too busy thinkin’ he could save the fuckin’ world.” He chuckled bitterly. “So I carried that grief with me for years, all on my own. Like the weight of a thousand bricks strapped to my fuckin’ back.”
“Joel…” You opened your eyes, your gazes meeting together.
He lightly brushed his lips against forehead. “You ain’t alone, darlin’. You have me and I ain’t gonna let you carry this pain alone. You understand me? Never.”
“I know that,” You choked out. 
Joel pulled you against him once again, his arms wrapping themselves around you. 
“I love you.”
It was just above a whisper, barely audible but you’d heard him.
Clutching fistfuls of his jacket, you buried your face into his chest, uttering, “I love you too.”
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maxwell-grant · 5 months
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So is Worm good from what you have read
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"Yes" doesn't begin to cover it but yes. Worm is a brain-rewiring mobius strip disguised as a bible disguised as a superhero web serial that either cured your cancer or shot your dog or both depending on who you ask, and it has many extremely dedicated, brilliant scholar priest surgeons publicly dissecting it on this platform on the regular to the point I don't think I have much to add to the conversations surrounding it, even if I do have some The Thoughts about it. I had never even really seriously thought about superhero prose before and Worm isn't a thing I go back and reread frequently but it did a complete and total 180 on the way I think about superheroes and even fiction, and I've never stopped thinking about it since I've read it.
It is a monumentally impressive story with completely absolutely incredible characters that I cannot stop thinking about. No matter where it was going, even past stretches that were less interesting or more of a slog to read or worse, I could not put the story of Taylor Hebert down for one minute. Tattletale fascinated me every step of the way, I had to keep up with her. Rachel Lindt was a character I feel like I'd been waiting my whole life for. What was I gonna do, not see them through? I feel like Worm easily loses you if you don't particularly connect with the characters enough to justify to yourself the amount of time you'll spend with them, but man, I could not unglue my eyeballs from these people enough (I love all the core Undersiders, to be clear, I'd say it's Rachel > Taylor > Tattletale > Aisha and Alec and Brian, there are very small gaps between these, I just don't go berserk for the last three like I do for the first three, I'm taking Bitch and Skitter to the grave I'm dead serious)
Worm irreparably destroys your ability to engage with superhero fiction the same way ever again, as evidenced by the fact that it destroyed the author's own ability to engage with his own superhero fiction ever again. And everybody who read it has one or several gripes with it with some major dealbreakers in the mix. Tumblr's kinda the only place online where you can really talk about them at length without the spectre of John Wildbow hanging over the discussion, which enables discussion to the point where yes, maybe it does look like to outsiders that nobody can agree on whether Worm is good or what is it even about or whether it even has worms in it (it has at least one, although it's a very big one).
And it is good, it has the Undersiders in it and the Undersiders are one of the greatest groups of characters ever put together, but everyone has at least one major point of contention with Worm whether it's the timeskip or the length or the racism or the gross fatphobia or aspects surrounding the Dallon-Pelham Torment Nexus and etc. I'd say it has maybe the most racist vision of Latin America I've ever seen in a superhero text a hair short of pro-colonial tracts in Golden Age comics and that is a tall fucking order by any metric (part of why I started WEON4 as a project was motivated by spite, to try and make my own stories about non-American superheroes even if just as practice). It is Complicated, and that winds up making it so fascinating to talk about.
Worm has self-sustaining ecological systems of posts up here, far away from the Spacebattles and Reddit battlegrounds where it has different ones and that's not getting into Weaverdice or the sequel or Wildbow's larger body of work, which I haven't gotten to and probably will not any time soon because Worm was enough of a commitment as is. Do I recommend Worm to everyone? It is certainly not to everyone's tastes and I personally find it difficult to describe it simply enough to make it sound appealing or not like a pyramid scheme. But yes I do think it's good, in fact great, in fact, amazing, except when it isn't, and except it Plainly Sucks, but then something like Taylor vs Mannequin or Kevin Norton's interlude or "You needed worthy opponents" happens and it fucks harder than anything has ever fucked before and you don't walk away from it the same, so yes I guess "good" will have to do now.
It's certainly a lot but I definitely found it worth my time to read and then read the texts written about it here. You'll have to take my endorsement of Worm as proof of it's quality and proof of how deranged it makes it's readerbase, they're not mutually exclusive. If you can make it, Worm and the wormosphere has layers and layers to wade through and talk about and enjoy, despite how we're all so very small in the end *gunshot*.
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epicbuddieficrecs · 1 month
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Weekly Recap | March 18th-24th 2024
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It's a long one today folks! I hope you enjoy! :) If you know anyone who's not tagged, don't hesitate to let me know!
idk 'bout you but I can't wait for the final part of the premiere on Thursday!!! 😃
Complete
anything that is beautiful, people want to break. by dylaesthetics (Post-Coma, Trans Buck | 3K | Teen): Buck has never meant to keep it a secret from the one-eighteen. Hell, he trusts them with much more gritty, uncomfortable stuff than that. It’s more like… It hasn’t come up. There’s been no reason for it to come up. But then he gets struck by lightning and the mix-up with his medical records happens. A nurse he hasn’t seen yet barges into Buck’s hospital room, with his entire family in it, blood and found alike, and stares at him for one dumbfounded moment before blurting out a name he hasn’t been addressed by in well over eight years. 
not flesh and blood but the heart by Jinko / @jinkohhh (Post-S6, Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): Five times people assumed Chris was Buck's son + one time Eddie confirmed it.
🔥 don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (S7 Spec, Bachelor Party, Pretend Relationship | 14K | Teen): or, chris wants dating advice and it turns out taking your best friend on a pretend date to practice being as romantic as possible is not a good idea in theory or in practice, considering the pesky being-in-unrequited-love of it all
A Little Bit of the Bubbly by Jinko/ @jinkohhh (Post-S6, PWP, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit): Since turning 30, Buck's relationship with champagne has changed. It also manages to change his relationship with Eddie.
washed away (but not) by Jinko / @jinkohhh (S7 Spec | 3K | Teen): “Well, this is awkward.” Every part of Buck wanted to tell Chim to go fuck himself, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t. Nothing made a situation more awkward than pointing out the awkwardness of it. “So which one of you two made the deathbed love confession?” Ravi laughed, and frankly, Ravi could go fuck himself, too. The both of them could go fuck themselves because both Chimney and Ravi were correct.
i like the way you scratch my itch by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (BTHB: Hives | 3K | Teen): Buck’s big blue eyes sparkle. “You’re so cute, did you know that?” he asks, leaning close enough Eddie can count the small red-brown-orange freckles all across his nose. “Even when you’re red from poison ivy.” Red. Red from the poison ivy. Yeah, yep, that’s exactly what he’s so red for. Absolutely.
meet you in the middle. by dylaesthetics (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): OR buck and eddie get their shit together during a regular friday movie night at the diaz house.
🔥 Even in Winter There is Eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Hades/Persephone AU | 45K | Explicit): Buck is supposedly a god. Supposedly. But he's got no idea what his domain is or what role he plays in Olympus. When he meets Christopher, a young boy lost and trying to find his father, he helps Chris get home - and ends up accidentally binding himself to the Underworld. Now bound to Eddie, the god of the dead, Buck must spend half the year with him in the Underworld while winter reigns above. But even as something grows between them, there are still trials to endure. Just because the gods are not mortal... does not mean they cannot die.
🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit): When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.
and check out the amazing podfic!! 🔥 My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314
hold tight, you’re slowly coming back to life by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Eddie runs into Natalia at the grocery store. He learns something about her and Buck’s breakup that gives him the final push to take care of his own complicated love life.
🔥 miracles under your sighs and moans by napricot (Sex Pollen, PWP | 21K | Explicit): When Eddie gets exposed to an experimental aphrodisiac on a call, he realizes there’s only one person he trusts to help him get through it: Buck.
Touch Me and I'll Scream by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Unhealthy Coping Mecanisms, Established Buddie | 5K | Mature): At his low, Buck uses rough sex as a way of self harm.
in another life by bellabrady (Coma AU | 2K | Not Rated): Or: Buck's in a coma and dreams of a life where Daniel never died and he never became a firefighter.
Locations by rogerzsteven/ @rogerzsteven (BTHB: Vomiting, Drowning | 4K | General): In which Buck drowns.
I was born to take care of you by Beulaugh/ @if-music-be-the-food-of-love (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Buck has a revelation at work and then promptly falls on his face. Eddie Diaz's ass: 1, Evan Buckley: 0
hold the silence. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6 | 3K | Teen): OR while looking for clothes to donate, Buck stumbles upon the shirt he was wearing when Eddie got shot.
Tomorrow we can drive around this town by lamardeuse/ @lamardeuse (S7 Spec, Drunk Eddie | 4K | Mature): If Eddie had been sober, he would have realized it wasn't something to be happy about. But drunk as he was, it had the blood singing in his veins, because Buck was going home with him, not Tommy. Tommy could go fuck himself – or you know, anyone else who was willing, but not Evan Buckley. Because Eddie was a pathetic, sloppy drunk and his best friend had a responsibility to make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit or drown himself in the bathroom sink.
sang to the sea for feelings deep blue by Tizniz/ @tizniz (S7 Spec, Cruise Ship Emergency | 14K | General): God, he hopes Buck got out. That he isn’t trying to get to Eddie. That he gets to go home. And not just because Christopher needs him, although he does since Eddie is fairly certain he’s not making it home this time. He doesn’t let himself dwell too long on that thought. No, Eddie wants Buck to go home because he deserves it. Because Buck deserves to live. Because Eddie needs him to live.
you've got game by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (S7E01 Coda, Established Buddie | 1K | General): a silly little late night conversation about chris being a 'ladies man'
take this life and make it yours (take this heart and let it love again) by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Canon Divergent, Post-Coma | 31K | Mature): Before he could second guess it, he’d dialled Eddie’s number and listened to it ring in his ear. As soon as he heard the click of the connection, he said, “Eddie, what the hell, man?” “I meant what I said. I don’t know who you think you are, but call this number again and I will contact the police.” . . . or, the one where Buck finally figures out he's in love with Eddie, only for things to not go as planned. At first.
if i bleed, you'll be the last to know by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (S7, Hurt Buck | 6K | Teen): buck gets stabbed while out on a run and then... doesn't tell anyone about it. eddie loses his shit when he finds out, they have a moment in the kitchen and they kiss.... not necessarily in that order.
Baby, take me by 42hrb / @exhuastedpigeon (S7E01 Coda, Getting Together | 4K | Explicit): “Same thing,” Eddie nuzzled him, stubble scratching even more as he moved his face. When he stopped nuzzling, he pulled back far enough that he could see Buck’s face. “I said stop thinking.” “Kinda hard to turn my brain off.” “Pretty sure I turned it off just fine last night,” Eddie said with a smirk that went straight to Buck’s cock, already half hard just from the way Eddie’s stubble is dragging across his skin. “Is that how I get you to stop thinking?”
when you call me yours by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Established Buddie, Proposal | 5K | General): Buck starts calling Eddie his husband. Only problem...they're not engaged. aka the 5 times Buck refers to Eddie as his husband and the 1 time Eddie makes it true.
just lay back in my arms for one more night by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Established Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Buck loves Eddie as he naps.
Brat Burrito by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Established Buddie | 1K | General): Just a cute Buddie moment about breakfast burritos.
it's a sliding into home kind of day by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP | 3K | Explicit): Eddie’s eyes still don’t leave the television. Frowning to himself, Buck cranes his neck to get a look at what could possibly be more important than him coming home after covering a tragically Eddie-less shift. A baseball game evidently is the answer.
your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep by BekkaChaos/ @bekkachaos (New Years Eve, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): aka, Eddie's in love with Buck and he doesn't know how to tell him, until there's a miscommunication and fate (well, Hen) intervenes.
Loose Threads by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Secret Relationship | 3K | Explicit): New to dating and keeping it quiet, Buck and Eddie get a little carried away on a slower shift at the firehouse. But when the alarm eventually sounds, a spur of the moment mistake leaves them a little mixed up.
Married Life by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew)/ @911onabc (S5, Getting Together | 2K | General): Taylor films Buck for a TikTok challenge, and Buck finds out he would much rather be his best friend’s husband than his girlfriend’s.
A Seal By Any Other Name (Would Still Be My Best Friend) by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Post-Tsunami | 5K | General): Evan "Buck" Buckley is a collection of oddities. But they're just what makes Buck Buck and Eddie loves him for them. Eddie had thought that after their years of friendship (and maybe something more) that nothing Buck could do would surprise him anymore. But there is one oddity that Eddie never saw coming. “How about you start with why there was a seal in my bathtub and now there’s just you in my bathtub.” (Part 1 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)
Just Add Water by bigfootsmom (Seal!Buck, Tsunami | 3K | General): There may be more to Buck than meets the eye. But he's still only human(ish) and getting stuck in a natural disaster with his best friend's son is still all sorts of terrifying. A small hysterical part of his brain thinks about how ironic it would be if this was how he died. Him, a mythical aquatic creature, drowning. The universe would surely laugh and the long line of Buckley ancestors would turn in their graves. (Part 2 of Seal!Buck as in the aquatic mammal)
you can be my daddy (come on, you know you like) by bigfootsmom (Getting Together, Daddy Kink | 4K | Mature): Buck has a teeny tiny problem. One, he's in love with his best friend. Two, he wants to call said best friend Daddy.
It's the softness that breaks you by bigfootsmom (BDSM, Hurt/Comfort | 6K | Explicit): Or the one where Buck has more issues with intimacy than he had originally thought.
lay your love on me by bigfootsmom (PWP, Getting Together | 3K Explicit): Buck never thought the words he said to Eddie in the kitchen would ever come back to haunt him like this. Honestly, he’s not complaining.
you made me feel (i've got nothing to hide) by bigfootsmom (Virgin!Buck, Established Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Buck has a secret: Contrary to popular belief, Evan "Buck" Buckley is actually a virgin.
WIP
🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 22/? | 162K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.
🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 6/18 | 37K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 122/? | 374K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
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madelynraemunson · 7 months
Text
CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪
(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)
strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ ONLY! MINORS DON’T YOU DARE I AM INSIDE YOUR HOME
Chapter 004: The Eddie Stop
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Everyone loves a parked car conversation. Eddie’s van is no castle by any means…but do a boss and his employee have to sit that close to each other?
* = somewhat smut
** = smut
↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*
word count: 4.8k
warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, mutual pining, profanities, sexual tension, marijuana use, SO MANY sexual innuendos, foot play, daddy kink, dirty talk, masturbation, touching, rubbing, talks of abuse, trauma, Eddie talking about “Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club”, suicide, overdose, reader’s trauma becoming her kink i.e slapping/hair pulling/choking, steddie x reader threesome kinda 🤭, sex dream, p in v smut, unprotected sex, deepthroating, double penetration, idk what else I’m missing so here’s a PSA from Murray
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_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________
And then there were two.
“You better stop that thing you’re doing. I’m telling you, I ain’t lying.”
For the owner of a very successful strip club, you would think Eddie had a...fancier car. But there is beauty in humble beginnings. In fact, you can tell a lot about him from the ketchup stain by the window, empty coffee tumblers on the floor that need washing, crinkled up band posters — along with MORE PAPERWORK — and the tattered leather seats held together by the sheer grit of duct tape. A Porsche would just conceal who Eddie Munson is.
And Eddie’s the coolest boss you’ve ever had. In the safest town you’ve ever been in.
“Hawkins gets pretty quiet after 1 AM,” you observe. Despite being the blasted one, it’s you who’s attempting to break the silence.
You glance out the window, watching the scenery of the Bible Belt town you've grown to romanticize flash by like developing film.
“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “If you’re looking for nightlife, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Eddie approaches a four way intersection and stops too late. He does it for a short time too, stepping on the gas pedal not even a second later.
He peers over at you to see if you caught it.
“Sorry if I’m being a crazy driver,” Eddie apologizes. “If the street’s empty I’m only stopping for like... a millisecond. If at all.”
You snort. “You’re fine. We call that a ‘California stop’ back home.”
“You wanna see an ‘Eddie stop’?”
You turn to him. He’s just staring at you and smiling, a look of mischief creeping its way to the surface.
“What’s that?”
SLAM. You shoot forward in your seat the moment Eddie’s foot meets the brakes. A surprised gasp from you fills the air while Eddie joins in with a loud cackle. You glare at him, a frantic hand clutched to your chest.
“What the FUCK!”
“That’s an ‘Eddie stop’,” Eddie explains between laughter.
SLAM! He does it again.
“Eddie, stop!” you plead.
“Hey, that’s the spirit!” he chuckles.
You realize his play on words and shove him.
“Ow,” he remarks with sass, hand reaching over to rub where you pushed him. “Feisty.”
"Yeah? Well, don't dish out what you can't handle."
You cross your arms and jokingly turn your torso in the other direction. Eddie is amused at this, proceeding to poke fun at you while he still can.
"Hmm. Hm hm," he laughs with his pursed lips. "For someone who can't hang, you're one to talk."
You’re still intoxicated. Nothing is leaving your system any time soon, it appears.
It all starts to feel like a dream. You thoroughly enjoyed yourself after a fun night out with friends. There is no angry brother waiting for you at home, blowing up your phone until you walk through the door. And now you’re out on a post-curfew rendezvous with someone who is clearly off limits.
You’re living out your rebel dreams, riding into the night with Eddie. What a regular young adult takes for granted is something you’ve always dreamt about. It’s a dream you don’t want to wake up from.
“I can hang. It's just the edibles kicking in late, silly," you bubbly insist.
“Alright,” Eddie surrenders sarcastically. “Alright. Whatever gets you going…silly.”
You two proceed down the long, vacant road, humming along to Creedence Clearwater Revival and breaking the law with more California stops.
"It's a bummer we didn’t get to go bar-hopping,” you say. “That would've been fun.”
Eddie grimaces. “Eh. Drinking makes me feel gross. I’m more of a mary-jane guy if I do say so myself.”
“Clearly,” you jest.
A whole night dedicated to edibles? Hotboxing competitions with the line cook? Bongs and bowls happening to be everywhere this motherfucker tends to be at?
Eddie’s a walking marijuana leaf as far as you're concerned. Governor Holocomb's worst nightmare. You kick at the velvet bag that masked the huge glass bong sitting at your feet.
“I’m surprised they haven’t arrested your ass yet.”
“I’m just as surprised as you are," Eddie admits. "With all the shit I’ve done…”
The road begins to look familiar and you realize it’s because you’re almost back home. Tick, tick, tick, goes the turn signal as Eddie's GPS instructs him to make a left. A sigh escapes you. You don’t want to leave.
You want time to freeze exactly where it's at so you could spend it with the man who has been giving you butterflies — and the ‘fuck me’ eyes — all night long. To your own surprise, confidence overpowers you.
“Eddie,” you sit up. “Do you think you can stay with me for a bit?”
Your boss’s gaze hardens, a look of concern replacing his easy-going, playful demeanor.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, brows lifting gently in shock. “Yeah... I’ll stay with you."
Eddie makes a turn away from your street and finds a curb to park against. You tap your feet, anxious that he actually followed through. The sound of his tires scraping across the gravel beat against your eardrums as reality sets in. Eddie shifts the gear from Drive to Park before wriggling his keys out from the ignition. The rumbling of the van engine ceases.
Eddie lassos his keys around his thick, long index finger, their jingles piercing through the quiet.
"You feeling alright?”
“Yes,” you confirm. “Just feeling pretty buzzed still.”
“You trying to get more buzzed?” he offers. “Or high?”
You look back over at him. Oh wipe that snarky grin off your face, Munson.
There's a pro to working evening shifts. You can sleep in until it's time to head off to work the next day. Judging by how the night was going, it is far from over. You and Eddie are just getting started.
“It depends...Are you trying to get more high?”
“Is that even a question?”
Before you know it, there's a small tin can with a few nuggets in it in Eddie's hand, followed by a small Altoid case that housed some rolling paper. Eddie places the two on his dash and then leans towards you to grab the bong sitting at your feet.
He undresses it from its cloak. His pride and joy glistens in the moonlight.
“Hello, my darling,” he says to his bong. “You’re so pretty.” Eddie turns to you. “I’ve got nowhere to be, so you bet I’ll be usin’ the hell outta her tonight. No pressure though, Hargrove.”
You shrug. “I'm down to get lit for a bit longer."
"You a joint girl or do you prefer bongs?"
"Either or. Why not both?"
There’s a gleam in his eyes. "I like how you think."
Eddie situates the large bong between his legs, propping it up with his knees. He then reaches for the tin can filled with nuggets. Picking off the bits one by one to accommodate the tiny bowl, he tucks them neatly into the small round outlet. Eddie does it with such ease. Like it's second nature.
Finally, Eddie hovers the lighter over the bowl and gestures for you to inch closer. The placement of the bong remains the same. And judging by the look on Eddie’s face, he doesn’t intend on moving it.
"Ladies first."
So you hoist yourself over across Eddie’s center console and position yourself near his lap. Staring up at Eddie with curious eyes, you ask him,
"Am I good?"
"You're good," Eddie confirms, holding your hair back while you lean over against him. “All yours, babygirl.”
After getting the green light, you bend down further to attach your lips to the mouthpiece of the bong. With the flick of the lighter, Eddie ignites the bowl and you suck in. You and Eddie eye its neck steadily, watching as the chamber fills with smoke.
Eddie slowly starts to remove the bowl. Fear sets in as the bubbles seem to draw on for an eternity. It feels like it'll never end. You're inhaling too much.
When you feel the first kick to your chest, you shoot upwards and exhale. But the smoke got you good. Before you know it, you’re coughing and hacking and grasping for air, clutching onto Eddie’s flannel for support as you try to clear.
"That's right, baby," Eddie soothes you. "Let it out. Clear it, clear it, clear it."
“I’m-” you cough. “I’m t—trying.” A few more good coughs and you’re done. “WOOO.”
Eddie’s laughing at you like it’s cute. The grip he has on your hair loosens and soon your locks fall in front of your face once more. You keep them there to mask your tears. How embarrassing.
"Damn,” he comments. “You choked out.”
Your stomach dances. You think about what he said earlier in the club about his kinks.
"Yeah, I s-sure did-" you choke again, fleshing out your last set of coughs as Eddie pats your back.
The tears trickle down your face as you struggle to self-regulate. You quickly wipe them away.
"You okay?' he asks again, this time gently, sincerely. Angelically. He starts playing with the ends of your hair.
You nod with a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You want more, hun? Can you handle more?"
You nod again.
"Yeah," you sniff. "I can handle more."
"Alright," he grins.
Bowing your head down once again, you reattach your lips to the mouthpiece. As you're inhaling, Eddie tilts his head upwards to prevent any smoke from getting in his face. You look up at him.
What a sight, your internal monologue gushes. He must look like this when he's getting a...
"There we go, Shy Girl” he hums. "Just like that..."
————🍃———-
“It’s alright. I said it’s alright. Take anything you want from me. Fly high, little wing.”
“So my driving really doesn’t scare you, huh?”
Eddie is taking ginormous rips out of his bong. You, on the other hand, have settled for rolling joints instead.
“Not nearly as much as my brother,” you shrug. “He drives like a maniac. Him and his stupid Camaro.”
You think about the time you and Billy got into an argument about lunch. Out of all things.
Billy had asked something SO obvious. You couldn’t help but respond sarcastically. He stomped on the gas before you knew it, propelling you both across the residential street at 90 MPH. It was scariest you’ve ever seen him. The first instance where he toyed with both your lives and didn’t seem to care.
You try not to shake in front of Eddie. Luckily, he was too busy laughing to notice.
“A Camaro?” Eddie belts. “That’s just about the douchiest, California Chad type shit I’ve ever heard.”
You agree. “Yeah. Douchey is pretty on brand for someone like Billy.”
You fall silent as you continue to roll. Eddie peers over at you and takes note of your newfound seriousness.
You position your body towards him to ensure him it wasn't something he did, and make sure he knows it by the way you relax your legs across his lap. He inhales abruptly at the extra step you took.
"I take it you guys don't get along."
"Billy and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment,” you mumble. “Part of why I'm here.”
“Your brother right?” he questions rhetorically.
“Yeah, my twin brother.”
“Oh shit,” Eddie mutters. “So you guys went from being essentially telepathic to... no contact at all.”
“Precisely.”
You glide your tongue up, down, and around along the rolled joint to ensure that it sticks. When it's sealed shut, you set it down to start rolling the next one. Eddie stares at you.
“Fuck…” you hear him mutter.
“Sorry?”
You try to act clueless, but even stoned out of your mind, you know exactly what you're doing.
“Uh, that’s rough,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever,” you say. “As much as I love Billy, I just think it’s best we’re not in each other’s lives. We bring out the worst in each other.”
“I can say the same about me and my brothers,” Eddie agrees. “And my dad. They’re always asking me for money. Or for me to be an accomplice for their stupid, dangerous schemes. I got my own shit to handle.”
“And your mom?”
Eddie falls silent.
“She died when I was 14,” his voice softens. “I was the one who found her.”
Your chest aches as you marinate in that very, very familiar wound. It seems like just yesterday you and Billy were in Eddie's shoes.
“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Billy found our mom when we were 13. Alcohol poisoning and overdosed on pain killers.”
“Wow…” Eddie is stunned. “OD for mine as well. But heroine. She was an addict. Married her dealer and abuser... my old man.”
"Our dad was abusive too," you sympathize. "Well, is. He's still alive, but he and his new wife up and left when my stepsister turned 16. To who knows where. Billy was her guardian up until her b-day last week.”
You roll your next blunt and lick again. Eddie continues to eye you like a hawk, fixing how he was sitting in the driver's seat as he did.
You continue telling him everything you told your Zoom psychiatrist. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.
Billy was nice. Now he’s not. Blah blah. Sue, Max’s mom, was Dad’s mistress. The idea of it consumed Mom just as much as Dad’s beatings did. When Billy found her, she was on the bathroom floor surrounded by empty bottles of whiskey and painkillers. Aside from you, Mom was his best friend. His biggest supporter. And Dad took that away.
Eddie’s grazing turns into rubbing. He squeezes your calf.
"Our moms died when we were around the same age," he speaks up, attempting to do the mental math. "That puts us in '08, which is around the time of..."
"The Recession," you finished for him. "Yup. Mom also lost her job which meant she was now fully dependent on our dad."
"She was stuck with that piece of shit no matter what," Eddie huffs. "And no matter where she turned, she wouldn't be safe."
You nod, staring off into the distance. "Billy wanted to go with her.”
Eddie gives you a pained look, sighing deeply as he took it in.
“But I told him I would hate him forever if he dared. So he stayed."
You swallow hard.
“Baby-” Eddie speaks.
"I hate him, still..." you choke back tears. "But I'm glad it's just because I think he's an asshole. He's my whole world."
"But you can't be in each other's lives."
"But we can't be in each other's lives."
"Love from afar kinda thing," Eddie mumbles.
"Exactly," your voice is at a whisper now. "I can never be mad at Mom though, for taking the easy way out. I wouldn't know what the fuck to do if I were in her shoes."
"I'm really sorry, Hargrove." Eddie says. "It seems like you lost more than your mom."
"I'm sorry for your loss too," you reply.
Silence lingers. Eddie continues to touch you. You love how handsy he is tonight. His touch brings you calm. Made you feel looked after. Protected. Cherished.
“I like listening to you talk,” Eddie soothes you.
You smile. “Did we just turn this into a therapy session?”
“Looks like we did,” he chuckles softly. Eddie raises a toast with the foggy, smoked-out bong in his hand. "To the Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club."
You hold up your lopsided joint.
"To the Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club," you repeat after him. "And to the brothers we don't speak to anymore."
"Can't forget that shit," he says. "To the brothers we don't speak to anymore."
————🍃————
“I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad.”
The night continues on a lighter, flirtier note.
“What’s your love language?” Eddie asks you.
“Acts of service.”
“Mmm.”
“Not like that.”
“I know, I’m just fucking with you,” Eddie winks. “Makes sense though. I see it.”
“What’s yours?”
“Physical touch.”
You look down at your feet, still laid out across Eddie’s lap. A few moments ago he just wrapped up giving you a foot massage after convincing you that you were free to take your heels off.
“Acts of service as well,” Eddie smiles. “It’s 50/50.”
“I can tell,” you say.
“Yeah? How so?”
You run a foot across Eddie’s thigh, watching in amusement as his blinking quickens. He bites his lip and hums.
“I can just tell,” is what you end up saying.
“You can just tell?” Eddie bites his lip. “No other way of knowing?”
“Nope,” you giggle, gliding your foot to the inner part of his thigh. “Just a wild guess.”
Your feet do a little dance on Eddie. He tries to tickle you but you pull away.
“I think Steve’s is acts of service too,” you add. “And gift giving.”
“Nailed it,” Eddie confirms with a nod. “Harrington loves providing. Daddy Steve.”
He smirks at you when he says that. With the info you retained at Hellfire, it’s impossible to think what he’s saying isn’t an innuendo. Your foot being just inches away from his dick didn’t help the case either.
“Daddy Steve,” you echo him. “Yeah, I can tell he loves taking care of people he cares about.”
“It didn’t always used to be that way,” Eddie points out. “I used to think he was an asshat.”
“Then what happened?”
“Nancy Wheeler happened.”
The mood darkens.
“Damn…” you mutter. “It always boils down to House Mom.”
“Because it’s true,” Eddie insists. “Steve was a self-absorbed prick in high school. Then he dated Wheeler senior year. On and off. Something changed in him, when they were done for good.”
Eddie readjusts himself in his seat. You adjust yourself with him.
“It was like…” he proceeds. “Steve realized that there was more beyond himself and wanted to be a part of this greater good. It wasn’t until he started working at the bowling alley I used to frequent that I realized that he’s a pretty decent guy.”
“Like everything’s one big redemption arc for him,” you state.
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“He worked at the bowling alley?”
“He’s worked everywhere,” Eddie laughs. “Dude had so many side quests and jobs. It’s gotten to the point to where I start to wonder where he hasn’t worked.”
“Hellfire,” you point out.
“Yeah, Hellfire,” Eddie nods. “Kinda wish he did. Maybe then I can get a day off…”
“What would you do on your day off?”
“Take you out to lunch finally.”
Your gazes fixate on each other. Eddie’s cheeks turn a red hue in the moonlight, the streetlight you guys were parked under illuminating it further.
The cheeky grin on his face vanishes quickly, the moment he disengages his eye contact with you.
"Yeah, Steve... Steve's a good guy," Eddie gulps. He stares down at his lap. Touches your legs again. "One of the greatest friends I've ever had in my life."
“Mhm…”
“And now he’s my boyfriend,” he teases you with a wink.
You tsk. “Be for real.”
“Nah, I’m just playing — he’s actually my husband,” he jokes again. “And you’re just a pretty lil thing of his on the side.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
“That’s what you got from that?”
“Who am I to get in the way of your marriage?”
“It makes things complicated between the three of us, that’s for sure.”
There’s a hint of truth in that sentence. You can tell by the way Eddie refuses to look you in the eyes again. For someone who is intentional with his eye contact, him not wanting to look your way when he says that makes it look suspicious.
Eddie cuts it with the jokes and starts up again.
“But yeah, I think you’re pretty.”
“Thank you, Eddie,” you respond, drawing circles onto his inner thigh now with your feet. You do it slower. Then deeper. Clockwise then counter.
“That’s it.”
Finally, he hoists your legs off of him. To your surprise, it’s Eddie now that’s crawling towards you, closing up the space there was between you two. Now you and him are both just a thumb-width apart, faces lingering. The hunger is back.
You feel Eddie’s warm breath against you.
“I’d say a hell of a lot more about you,” Eddie adds. “But I don’t wanna get in trouble.”
“That’s new,” you quip. “For as long as I’ve known you, you always gave off rebel vibes.”
“I’m trying to be good.”
“You’re failing miserably.”
You both look down at Eddie hand that is now resting at your waist. He laughs through his nose, pulling you closer to him.
“Touché.”
With his available hand, he strokes your hair, tucking a strand behind your ears. His fingers explore your cheek and take a detour to your plump lips, hovering around them as you part them slightly.
“You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to not cross any boundaries tonight,” Eddie admits. “To not get any closer to you.”
“Why not?” you whisper.
"I don't wanna ruin whatever you and Harrington have going on…”
"We're just fuck buddies," you insist. “Swear.”
Steve wouldn’t care. You know he wouldn’t. He was the one who even said that you both should give Eddie a little show. Besides, you already know it’ll be a long while until he’s officially over Nancy.
"Of course," Eddie huffs.
"Why?" you raise an eyebrow as you breathe in his face. "Are you jealous?"
"Well when you sound the way you did this morning, how could I not be?"
There it was.
The confirmation of what you already suspected closes in on you and you feel yourself shrink. Eddie enjoys the sight of it, the sight of Shy Girl growing tense just by the way he speaks to you. His fingers dance up your arm before he starts to rub your back.
“And the way you looked the day you gave Steve that private show…” he strains. “It’s like you were made for me and only me.”
“Eddie…” you moan.
“Do you know what it was like? Hm?” Eddie demands. He’s hot against your cheek now. “Touching myself, getting myself off in the bathroom to the sound of your moans? Knowing full well you were getting your back blown out just a wall over?”
You whimper as he continues to hover, the ache of wanting to be touched and destroyed by him gnawing at your soul.
“Gettin’ all dumb for me already?” Eddie taunts you when you don’t speak. “I haven’t even fucked your brains out yet.”
“Just still a little high that’s all.”
That snaps something back into Eddie. “Oh… right.”
You hear his keys jingle again before Eddie turns them back into the ignition. His headlights flash on and soon he shifts the gears back to drive. Away from the curb and back to your place you go.
Your stomach sinks.
“What are you doing?”
“Not this!” Eddie refuses. “Not when you’re not sober.”
“Eddie!” you start to regret ever saying anything. “Come on, I’m fine. I want you.”
“Yeah, well that’s another thing in my doctrine,” Eddie sighs. “I can’t mess with a lady under the influence. I don’t roll that way.”
He routes his GPS back to your place.
“I hate when you’re respectful,” you joust, crossing your arms in retaliation.
He laughs.
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he says to you. “Next time you’re at work, I’m gonna be disrespectful as fuck.”
The night ends there and Eddie drops you off. He makes sure you get inside safely before driving away. Sadness sets in as the drugs and alcohol wear off. You drag your feet along as sneak your way into you and Max’s room.
You dream of Eddie that night. Him and Steve.
You’re in a private show room at Hellfire with the two Adonises after your heart. Steve’s destroying your pussy again, ramming into you at an intense speed while Eddie fucks himself into your mouth, his warm, sweet precum mixing with your saliva to fill your mouth to the brim.
A moan escapes you every single time Eddie hits the back of your throat.
“That’s right, baby,” Eddie coos. “Don’t be shy. C’mon, take me.”
You try not to scream as you dig your nails into his skin. Tears are streaming down your face as Eddie and Steve abuse your holes, the stimuli from both nearing you towards your climax.
“Such a good fucking girl,” Steve growls pulling you by your hair. “Taking two cocks at the same time like a champ, hm?”
Eddie releases you from his grip, allowing you to come back up for air. You spit the remnants of him back onto his long and girthy cock, stroking him while you gave your jaw a rest.
“Y-yes,” you choke out, arching your back to maximize the sensation of Steve’s thrusts. “I’m being so good.”
You beg for Steve to fuck you harder. Steve and Eddie look to each other and smirk, pleased that you even want to be challenged.
“Harrington’s got you, don’t you worry,” Eddie assures you. “On your back sweetheart.”
Steve pulls out and lets you use him as support. When you’re on your back, he grabs his cock again, stroking himself before lining himself at your tight little asshole.
“I’m gonna let you know when I go in, babe, okay?” he whispers to you, smothering your neck with kisses.
“Okay,” you nod sheepishly.
Eddie kneels down and lines himself up at your dripping cunt, kissing you on the mouth before inserting himself into you.
You let out a silent gasp as he maneuvers his way in, stretching you out even further than Steve already did.
“Oh my god,” you cry.
“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans, hand flying over your throat to wrap itself around you. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Then Steve starts letting himself in. He pumps into you slowly, not proceeding until you start adjusting to his length. You lay there in complete bliss, allowing them both to have their way.
“Good job, angel,” Steve cheers you on. “Being so good for us. So fucking tight…”
The speed of their thrusts are agonizingly slow. You tap them both on the arm to let them know they can speed up. They resist at first, attempting to make sure it’s really want you want.
“Please,” you whine. “I want it now, please.”
Eddie’s gaze turns grim. “Whatever you say.”
SMACK! You whimper as Eddie swats your bouncing tits and pistons into you deeper, faster. Steve meets Eddie where he’s at, picking up the pace from underneath you, holding your hips still for extra leverage.
“SHIT!” you squeal. “Y-yes, yes, right there. Don’t fucking stop!”
Three more pumps and they both hit that special spot. You start to shake as your core tightens. It feels too fucking good.
“Dirty fucking whore,” Eddie spits at you while you cry out in pleasure. “There’s no running away now baby, this is what you wanted.”
Slapping. Biting. Choking. Hair-pulling. Name-calling. Spitting. You wanted it all.
“FUCK!” you wail. “I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”
“Let it out, baby,” Eddie encourages you. “Let it out. Make a mess on both of us, there you go.”
That sentence is enough to send you over the edge. Your core is hot, walls twitching and aching.
“FUCK!” you scream one last time before —
“SIS!”
Max jolts you awake, shaking you by your shoulders.
“What? What?!” you shoot up in the bed.
“Are you okay?” Max pants. “You’re sweating like a pig.”
Now that’s a dream you didn’t ever wanna wake from. Reorienting yourself to your room, you find it hard to believe how real everything felt. You grip onto your sheets to make sure you’re really in your room.
“Yeah, I…” you stammer. “I…had a nightmare.”
“I can tell, you were making all kinds of noise in your sleep.”
Max scurries over to your dresser to retrieve your Hydroflask. She encourages you to hydrate yourself.
“I drank tonight,” you admit after a huge gulp of water. “Probably what caused it.”
“Makes sense,” Max nods, hands on her hips like a concerned mother. “You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Just need a breather.”
You grab your phone and use the flashlight feature to navigate to the bathroom. As you’re peeing, you take a look at the two text messages waiting for you.
Steve Harrington 💋
Made it home lol
Sorry,passed out. Goodnight, beautiful ❤️
You text Steve goodnight before making your way over to the next text message. Eddie.
Eddie Boss
Sweet dreams. Silly.
👸
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author’s note: the steddie threesome dream was inspired by this tiktok 🥵 foaming at the mouth tbh. I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER AND THE DREAM THREESOME WITH STEVE & EDDIE! don’t worry, eddie x shy girl irl fuck fest smut is coming. some juicy shit has to go down first before we cross that bridge ;)
tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria
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gemsofgreece · 8 months
Text
You really should know about Storm "Daniel"
Unlike how much all of us Greek blogs notify our tumblr communities about the regular (at this point) arsons wildfires afflicting Greece, we did not say much about the floods the country has been suffering from right now. There was a mention here and there and I even made a joke post as the storm was starting but not a lot of stuff in general. So, I think there's a couple of things you should know and I feel like I could address about it and actually it's not just about Greece. So I believe this could interest a lot of people and it should be something known worldwide.
In the beginning of September there was an alarm about an extreme weather phenomenon forming above the Ionian Sea at the west of mainland Greece. In truth, the phenomenon was not caused by the climate change. It was just a very rare occurence where a high pressure atmosheric system was sandwiched between two currents of low pressure. Low pressure systems are the ones resposible for stormy weather while high pressure systems generally create stable weather. As the low currents encircled the high pressure system, the storm that had started forming became unusually stable for a storm. As a result, the storm moved northeast above Thessaly and other regions of the central part of Greece and... just decided to stay there for an indefinite amount of time. Furthermore, because it's September and the Ionian Sea had warmed up throughout the summer, the medicane (Mediterranean cyclone) gained tropical features as it was forming, pushing its intensity to extremes unknown to this area.
The storm remained above all of central Greece for about 4-5 days but at the meantime it was causing side-storms in neighbouring countries, such as Bulgaria and Turkey. Both countries suffered from floods causing damages and deaths.
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Istanbul, Turkey (CNN).
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Tsarevo, Bulgaria (CNN).
Four people died in Bulgaria and seven in Turkey.
But like I told you the core of this was exactly on top of Greece's central mainland and islands. So what happened there? I happened to experience this shit first hand. My recollection of it is that it was unlike any other storm I had experienced before. My knowledge on meteorology is not very advanced, however I believe due to the high pressure part, there were actually no winds at all - or they were insignificant, so it wasn't like what you might have in mind as a conventional cyclone. It was a rainstorm but it was like a rainstorm from hell. The crucial part is that in Greece summer violent rainstorms may last for about five minutes but certainly not for five days nonstop. There was no pause, not even for a second. It kept pouring and pouring in indescribable volumes, without decreasing or slowing down, not for a moment. The fourth day it started taking short breaks.
As a person with a phobia of lightnings since childhood, I kept wearing earplugs throughout all these days. For four days, ten seconds did not pass without at least one lightning shrieking exactly on top of our heads. In the end, I am dead serious, I think my lifelong phobia has been cured somewhat due to this extreme exposure that eventually had a numbing effect. I think only the first day there was a record of 7,000 lightnings. I believe there must have been dozens of thousands overall. The lightnings also caused fires but the downpour was so overwhelming no fire could ever stand a chance.
Whether during or after the rains, what I was seeing outside was post-apocalyptic. The only thing missing was the zombies. It really looked like a background from a videogame, including a constantly lit up sky. I was not in danger though people dear to me were. The worst for me was a huge fall in the quality of living but that doesn't matter. The rains caused severe destructions across cities and villages. They caused floods, they broke bridges, they broke a massive number of roads, they made walls collapse, they destroyed springs, they damaged water and electricity outlets entirely, they drowned flocks and flocks of animals, they destroyed mountainous and coastal villages alike, they made cars float and fly over each other and they uprooted houses.
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Village in Mount Pelion, Greece.
But that's not the end of it. Four days later, the storm moved southwest towards the Ionian sea, basically to the place of its original formation. It side-swept over Athens in the meantime, flooding the city, but that doesn't mean much since I could cry and Athens would still flood with my tears. Anyway. AFTER the storm left, the floods caused by it started multiplying and expanding. Picture that: a crystal clear sky, a bright sun and your phone screaming state alerts about evacuating your village or town because a lake has launched at you! Here's the thing: Thessaly is a massive plain surrounded by a ring of mountains. Half of those downpours fell right on the lowlands causing floods and destructions the first days. The other half however fell on the mountains, filled the streams heading down and they all met up and filled the lakes and the large river of Thessaly, Pineios and they all basically exploded the next days. Pineios especially exploded both in its western and eastern part, sinking the entirety of Thessaly's plains under water. As a result, floods were actively taking place days after the storm had ended and the weather was good. The phenomena have only started subduing since yesterday.
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The overflowing of the river, trapped by the mountains.
Farmers won't be able to work this year and next year is questionable as well. There are huge concerns about various epidemics breaking out as more and more dead animals are found in the waters. Entire villages are under the water. There are estimations that some villages in west Thessaly might have been lost forever and their residents will have to move elsewhere. Sixteen people have died from the rainstorm and the floods.
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Actual villages in Karditsa, Greece.
A more longterm danger is that the ground received such an unnatural amount of water that it might have been severely eroded and destablised, making it vulnerable to natural disasters I don't want to utter. Many roads are either broken or bloated and Thessaly has been cut out from communication and transportation with the rest of the country. To this day, there are maps guiding people how to drive from North to South Greece and vice versa by entirely skipping Central Greece! (Hint: they will have to drive through Epirus, aka western Greece.) The first days there was also complete isolation from what was happening in the country and the world and also the very regions we were in as we had no electricity and our only chance was getting a call from somebody being elsewhere and telling us what is going on.
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Volos, Greece (CNN)
Many regions have received within 2-4 days 55 times their monthly amount of rain or more than twice the yearly amount. Greek meteorologist Christos Zerefos estimated that such a phenomenon occurs every 300-400 years. Meteorologists were alarmed internationally - with Germans and Americans reportedly saying they hadn't studied such a phenomenon again in their career. Its intensity was record high in the history of Greece and right in the top of Europe's as well. They also agreed that such a phenomenon would be devastating even if it had hit the most advanced and prepared country.
BUT THIS IS NOT THE END. The weakened Daniel seemed to slowly move towards South Italy but it decided to take a turn and headed south towards Libya and Egypt. Quite possibly, as the storm was once again travelling across the warm Mediterranean Sea, it was rejuvenated and gained even more tropical traits. Eventually, the medicane hit Libya with unprecedented force.
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The cyclone travelling from Greece to Libya.
The toll it took on Libya is unspeakable. As I am writing this,
More than 5,226 people are killed and more than 10,000 are currently missing.
Like, can you wrap your head around what I am talking about? I don't see this shit being acknowledged enough across the world. I am checking this again and again, to ensure I am reading this correctly.
Daniel has officially become the deadliest medicane on record.
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Eastern Libya, from Al Jazeera.
In the meantime, Greeks found opportunities to practice their favourite sport: political infighting. People who weren't even here when hell broke loose say that if this or that was properly done, we would not have problems at all. I even saw an idiotic Greek expat comment how "we got drowned in a little bit of rain". The truth is we should bloody thank our lucky stars and I say this with the entire awareness of half of Thessaly being currently underwater. It is true that Greek governments and people have done so many things badly, like building on top of streams and rivers, changing rivers' natural route, drying up natural lakes and all that shit that guarantees you are going to have massive problems once a serious storm breaks out. Also, the disaster revealed that there was once more a very questionable management of all the money given by the EU for anti-flooding measures after a previous flood (Ianos). Of course, I would be happy if at last we viewed this disaster as an opportunity to improve ourselves and the management of our land, however whatever happened these days wasn't the fault of anyone in particular. On the contrary, A LOT worse could have happened. A lot. Maybe Libya is not an indication because if Greece is not used to such extreme rain phenomena, then Libya is probably ten times less used to them, however we should not forget that this monster was STUCK at least five days over the heartland of Greece. For this alone we should damn be thankful we did not get it any worse and that the land endured in any way and of course now we have to correct old mistakes as well but let's do it united and determined and without wasting time once more in pointless infighting, which in this case might even be unfair. (In fact I think the thing we should blame the state the most about was not making it clear beforehand that this was going to be unprecedented, not just "very severe". They probably didn't want to cause panic and mayhem but still. We should know.) Of course I am not talking about how the state will treat the afflicted regions from now on, which is entirely its responsibility. And we should stand next to Libya. Greece has its wounds to mend but it should absolutely provide support to Libya. We know what this freak phenomenon was like.
I know this text is long but please consider reblogging this. We should know what happens on our planet. Thousands of people are dead from a freak phenomenon devastating regions across lands and seas. Also forgive any mistakes I might have made although I believe the information is correct for the most part. I didn't speak more about Libya because I don't know enough to analyze the situation as much. Perhaps there are ways of supporting the country too. As a last note, this phenomenon was not freakish because of the climate change - it was just a very unusual occurence. However, the - otherwise normal - warmth of the sea did feed and intensify the storm and the climate change might in the future cause these super rare, accidental phenomena to become more frequent.
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