#20 new cuts on my arm and it's starting to get warm out
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the mental illness is making me very mentally ill today
#20 new cuts on my arm and it's starting to get warm out#i know i should stop but im going to keep adding more because i make good decisions#it's good to feel something and i hate myself and hurting myself helps me to cope i guess#i guess hurting myself is a way to take out my anger and hate towards myself on myself??#idk im not a mental health professional#i saw a therapist through my school the last few weeks of the semester and i think that was actually helpful#i've been out of one of my medications for almost a week so that doesn't help either#my dad is telling me that i should contact my dr but what is she going to do? the company just isn't making enough#my dad was talking to me about my job for over the summer#like um??? i want to kill myself#also still nowhere near finishing all my assignments for the classes i had to take incompletes in#i've been eating a normal amount or maybe too much and functioning more and having way fewer suicidal thoughts#but i don't really like it. constantly thinking about killing myself sucked but at least i had like a way out#i guess when i was doing worse i was probably more likely to actually hurt myself in a life threatening way#but now it's like great i have to live#tw: self harm#tw: suicide mention
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mornings like these
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.
word count: < 1k
a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol
You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.
Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.
Soft. Warm. Golden.
A strong arm tightens around you.
“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”
His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.
You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.
Waking up next to him—with him.
Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.
You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.
You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.
Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before.
Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.
Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you.
Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.
“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”
Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”
You raise an eyebrow. “No?”
He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”
“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.
As if you don’t already know.
“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”
Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”
“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.
Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.
You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.
“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.
“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.
Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.
Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.
There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”
His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.
“We have patrol in an hou—”
Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.
He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”
“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.
That’s where Joel Miller had you.
Right in the palm of his hand.
In every which way possible.
“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”
You don’t tell him to stop.
Of course you don’t want him to stop.
You never, ever want him to stop.
Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.
Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.
divider credit to @saradika 🤍
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller blurb#joel miller drabble#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
WC: 7.5k
Chapter 1/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
Divider credit to @saradika
Late August, 1996.
July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.
The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.
“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.
“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.
“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”
The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.
You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”
She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”
You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.
“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”
Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.
“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”
“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.
“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”
“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.
“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”
“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”
An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.
“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”
“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.
“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.
“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.
“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”
The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”
“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”
Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.
“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.
A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.
“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.
“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.
Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.
The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.
“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.
It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”
Oh.
Oh.
“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.
“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”
“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.
Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”
Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.
Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.
“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”
The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.
Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.
You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”
She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”
You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.
“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.
Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.
Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.
“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.
“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”
“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.
But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”
“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”
He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”
“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”
“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.
“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”
You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.
“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.
Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.
Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”
“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.
“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”
He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”
“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.
“Turned thirty last month.”
“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”
He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.
You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”
End of conversation.
“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.
“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”
Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.
“You still want to?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”
Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.
You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.
A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.
“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.
“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.
The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.
Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.
“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.
“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…
Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.
“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”
You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.
The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”
You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.
Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.
“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.
“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.
“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.
Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”
You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.
“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.
Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”
“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.
Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.
Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.
You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.
“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”
He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.
“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.
“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.
“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.
“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.
“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”
“Huh? What?”
“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.
“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”
Stay for a bit, baby.
It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”
He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.
You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.
You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.
You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.
“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”
That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What?”
“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”
Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”
Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.
You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.
“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.
“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?
“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”
“Yeah…is Jess there?”
He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”
“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.
But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.
Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”
“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”
Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”
His…son?
Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”
“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”
“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”
“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.
“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”
You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?
The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.
Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.
Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.
“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.
“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.
“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”
“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.
A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”
Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.
You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.
The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.
“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”
“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.
Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…
And a Harris Munson.
“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”
The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.
You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.
“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”
“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.
“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.
“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”
You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.
“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.
“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”
“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”
The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.
Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”
“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.
“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.
“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.
You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”
Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”
“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.
After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.
“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”
He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”
“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”
Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.
Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”
Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.
“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.
You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.
Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”
You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.
“Excuse me?”
“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.
You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”
Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”
He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
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#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#tui
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Brat and Brattier
Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader
cw: idol au, dom top woo, bratty bottom member reader, rough sex, brat taming, slapping, spanking, fingering, auralism (attempt), degradation, sex toys, edging, sir kink, double penetration, breeding, marking, feminization.
an: need those arms around my neck 👹NOW👹
since they debuted until today, wooyoung has always been recognized as the brat of the group, but everything changed some time later when a new member joined the group, yn. he was a cheeky motherfucker, always teasing and getting on wooyoung's nerves. “yn can you please shut up, i'm trying to watch this series” wooyoung's blood boiling of anger seeing how he has no peace not even in his dorm, that he now shares with yn, “this is my dorm too, i can do whatever i want” the other replied with a cocky grin. “what was that you punk? i'm older than you, you know... you should be respecting me”. his face covered in a red hue, the anger could be felt throughout the room, the tension in the air was palpable.
"meh" yn just shrugs and ignores him.
this was wooyoung's last straw, he was tired of yn attitude so maybe it was time to teach him how to behave. he silently went to the dorm's door and lock it, thankfully the rest of the members were out shopping, then he walked towards yn's bed and grabbed him by the collar “you're being such an annoying bitch right now yn. would you be a good boy and shut the fuck up? let me finish watching my series” yn was lowkey scared of wooyoung's right now but he still wants to rail him up more, the sexual tension between them growing up too. the older let him go and went towards his bed when something made him stop right there, “make me”...
wooyoung smirked, he knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to teach the boy some manners.
“sure”...
yn now was on woo's lap, with no pants nor underwear, the only thing that kept his ass warm was the spanking that the other was giving him. each spank being rougher than the last one. “... 18… 19… and 20, ok that was the last one” woo comments rubbing the bright red ass trying to soothe the pain. meanwhile yn was containing his tears but he couldn't let wooyoung win “that's all?” he asks. a sudden slap landed on his ass making him swallow his next words, “you love being a bratty whore, aren't you? i was thinking on going easy on you but well…” wooyoung laughs “brace yourself slut, you asked for this”.
a cold liquid dripped down yn's ass, wooyoung's hands smearing all of it, then he introduces a finger all at once inside the other's hole, no warning. “is this what you wanted, attention whore?” woo asks, introducing the other two fingers. yn ignores him, focusing on hiding his whimpers. “come on” the older sighs “answer me when i ask you” he starts speeding up the movement of his hand, ruining the boy's hole. after the sudden change of speed yn started moaning louder, “there you go”, the wet sounds making woo's cock hard.
“turn around” commanded wooyoung but the other didn't obeyed. the older grabbed him by his arms and forced him to turn around, watching how rock hard he was. wooyoung's face went near the other's ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down yn's body. “damn, aren't you a nasty pervert?. getting off on people being rough with you..” each word being whispered with some kisses here and there.
yn tried to hide his face with his arms but wooyoung avoided it “what happened attention slut? are you shy now? aww”; “shut up” yelled yn “just let's get over with this asshole" tears threatening to come out of his eyes. suddenly he felt a stingy pain on his right cheek, wooyoung just slapped him “what the fuck did you just d-” he was cut by wooyoung's lips clashing against his, “that's not how you should address me” he says in between kisses. wooyoung's lips were soft and his tongue was doing wonders inside his mouth “sorry sir” he blurted out. “mm-mm i didn't hear you, say it louder”; “yes sir” yelled yn with all his strength.
“there you go” says wooyoung proudly, “now let's make the rules clear”, wooyoung stands up going towards his closet. he takes out a box from there and then sits down on the bed near yn again, from there he takes out a ring and places it at the base of yn's dick.
“rule number 1, i own you”.
he grabs a dildo, apply some lube on it and insert it on yn's hole.
“rule number two, you don't get to choose what to do or don't. i decide how to use you”.
the dildo going in and out, the squelching sounds mixed with the whimpers was like music for wooyoung's ears.
“rule number 3, you're gonna be a good slut and be grateful for whatever i give you. understood?”
yn just nods, then he feels another slap on his left cheek.
“understood?”.
“yes sir”.
“that's a good little toy”.
wooyoung unzips his pants discarding it along with his underwear, slapping his fat cock against that slutty hole.
“do you want this cock baby?”.
“yes sir”.
“tell me how badly you want it”.
“i want it so bad sir, please”.
“that doesn't convince me” wooyoung keeps on rubbing the tip around the already stuffed hole.
“please sir, i want the real cock and not this piece of plastic.. please”.
wooyoung keeps doubting, he doesn't reply anything.
“i'll be a good whore sir, please make this pussy yours. make me yours”.
“so desperate” wooyoung gets closer to yn's face and kissed him while introducing his cock, “so fucking tight”.
wooyoung's thrusts were rough, yn's hole was being stretched to the max being stuffed with a cock and a dildo at the same time. “sir you're gonna break me” he pants, tears rolling down his eyes and his tongue out.
“you look better like this so fucked up, squirming with my dick inside you. you were made for this.. to be used by me”; “yes sir, i'm just a hole for you to use” replied yn quickly, the overstimulation already hitting him.
“let's get rid of this” wooyoung pulls out the dildo with no warning making yn squirm in pain. now with just his dick inside woo can move more freely “i'm gonna obliterate this pussy”, he looks down, “damn you wanted me that bad? look how you're pussy is gripping me so hard” he laughs “it's like it doesn't want me to pull out”.
“sir i want to cum, please take it out” yn signals towards the cock ring.
“did you learn your lesson? are you gonna behave?”.
“yes sir”.
“who's your owner?”.
“you my sir, i belong to you”.
“such a good toy”, wooyoung removed the ring of the dick and watched how it squirted all the cum, the orgasm making yn's ass squeeze hard on woo's cock making him cum inside of him. “i'm fucking cumming” a mixture of grunts, pants and whimpers filled the room. wooyoung rode his high but kept the dick inside “you're so cute when you're so fucked up. makes me want to wreck you even more” he kissed the dumbified yn and resumed his thrusts, his dick getting hard again inside the smaller's ass. “next time you act like this i'm gonna edged for all the week, so stop being a brat okey?”.
“yes sir” he responds, eyes rolled back feeling woo's tip brushing his prostate.
—
months later fans noticed how yn stopped acting like a brat, or at least not that much. they also noticed how just a simple touch or stare from wooyoung is enough to make him behave. so they came to the conclusion that maybe wooyoung is in charge of making yn behave while he takes back his title of the group's brat.
#wooyoung x male reader#jung wooyoung x male reader#ateez wooyoung x male reader#wooyoung x male reader smut#jung wooyoung x male reader smut#ateez wooyoung x male reader smut#male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#smut#male reader smut#ateez smut#ateez x male reader#ateez x male reader smut
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Hey I was wondering if u could do Melissa x reader where reader has scars that she’s embarrassed about and so she always wear a jumpers or long sleeves but one day it’s really warm and reader refuses to take it off coz she’s embarrassed and Melissa helps her realise that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about (as always no pressure I adore your work sm 🫶)
This was really cute, I liked writing this. I must be in a mood cause it’s the second fic today I wrote and it has smut 🤦🏼♀️ maybe just excited to see our girl on screen again 🤷🏻♀️
On another note: on to the next prompt and I’m wondering where that’s gonna go, possibly heartbreak from my own creation, @esposadejoyhuerta I’m looking at you, your prompt is next.
Map Of Your Scars
Warnings: reader self conscious about her scars, smut
Words: 2.3k
You stand there looking at yourself naked in the mirror and take a deep breath. Looking at all your scars you have, either from the car accident you were in, cuts that didn’t heal all the way or acne scars.
You take another deep breath and then get dressed, getting ready for another day at Abbott Elementary. You’ve been working there for almost 9 months as a fifth grade teacher and you absolutely love it. The staff are great, the kids are great, the principal is questionable, it’s a blast there.
It’s warm out since it’s mid May so you go for a light jumper and sweater. Already you feel warm just walking into the halls of the school but you’ve done this before, just keep the sweater on until you get home.
You walk into the break room and get a coffee and you sit next to Melissa on the couch to watch the news with them. Melissa looks over at your jumper and sweater and quirks an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not going to be wearing that sweater on our recess duty today like you did last week.” She tells you and you blush. You developed a crush on the beautiful redhead, and from what you hear, she’s only dated exclusively men, bummer.
“Recess duty? Oh is that today?” You ask, you totally forgot about that. Melissa nods and you sigh. “Well I am, I think it looks good with the jumper.”
“Hun, it does look good but it’s not practical.” She points out. Melissa ignored you when you first got there but has since taken an interest in you, all the recess duties together probably helped.
“If I get too hot then I’ll take it off and wrap it around my waist, so it’s fine.” You tell her with a shrug and at that, she drops it.
At lunchtime, you still have the sweater on and refuse to take it off. You can see Melissa keeps eyeing you and the sweater.
“Can I help you Melissa?” You ask her when you see her looking at you again.
“Hun it’s like 25 degrees (77 Fahrenheit) out. You’re gonna be hot in that.” She says and you sigh.
“Actually at the moment I’m fine.” You tell her and she goes back to her phone and food.
When you two are walking together to go outside for your recess duty, she glances at you.
You both are outside, 10 minutes in to your recess duty, making sure the students are keeping out of trouble. Melissa walks up to you, “hun, take the sweater off, I can see you sweating.” She says.
“I’m fine.” You say and walk away. You’re not fine though, you are starting to get really hot but you don’t want anyone to see your scars, especially her, the red goddess that visits you in your dreams.
20 minutes later you’re really sweating and lightheaded and starting to see blurry spots in your vision. You and Melissa are rounding the kids up and she can see you’re not doing well, she’s noticed you trying to stabilise yourself more than once. Once the kids are heading inside she comes up to you again.
“Hey are you ok? You don’t look too good.” She says and puts a hand on your arm. You don’t really notice the hand on you, you’re too busy trying not to fall. You just nod at her and she helps to lead you inside.
You take one step in the school and you immediately fall. “Y/N!” Melissa yells as she catches you. Gregory is close by when he hears Melissa yelling and looks at her and sees you in her arms. He runs over to her and sees that your eyes are closed.
“What happened?” He asks her and she looks up at him.
“Heat exhaustion. I told her to take the stupid sweater off. Can you help me carry her to the nurse?” She asks and he nods and picks you up.
Once you're at the nurses office, they lay you down on the bed and Melissa takes off your sweater. The nurse instructs Gregory to leave as they need to unbutton your jumper to release the heat in your body.
You wake up and the first thing you notice is that you’re not hot anymore or sweaty. In fact, you’re perfectly fine. Then you notice there’s a breeze on the top half of you and you look down at yourself and see your sweater is off and your jumper is unbuttoned. You look over to your left and see Melissa talking to the nurse. She then notices you awake and walks over to you.
“Hey, how you feeling?” She asks you.
“Good.” You tell her, as you start to button up your jumper in a panic.
“You gave me a scare back there.” She tells you and you look up at her as you finish buttoning up your jumper.
“Where’s my sweater?” You ask her as you look around for it.
“I have it but I’m not giving it to you.” You look at her.
“Why?”
“Why? Because you fainted from heat exhaustion, that’s why. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just take it off? Why are you wearing a jumper? It’s May right now. You can’t be dressing in hot clothes anymore.”
“I can wear what I want.” You say to her and cover up your arms as much as possible.
“Why didn’t you just take it off?” She asks you and you look over and see the nurse watching the conversation and you look away embarrassed. Melissa looks back and sees. “Do you mind giving us the room for a moment please?” She asks the nurse and she nods and leaves the room. “So why didn’t you take it off?” She asks you again.
“Because…of my scars.” You say quietly.
“You’re scars?” Melissa asked. She of course noticed them when she was helping to undress you but didn’t think much of them.
“Ya, they’re embarrassing, so I cover them up so no one else sees them.” You tell her.
“Hun, it doesn’t matter if you got scars, no one's gonna care or say anything bad about them. And if they do then I’ll take care of them.” She tells you with a wink and you look at her, still embarrassed. Melissa tries a different approach. “I saw them and I still think you’re beautiful.” She says and you look at her with wide eyes.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask her and she nods.
“Uh huh, inside and out.” She tells you and you blush. “How did you get them? Your scars.” She asked and you take a deep breath.
“Car accident, cuts and acne.”
“Your scars are a part of you and they tell a story of who you are, nothing to be ashamed of.” She tells you and you look down, you don’t quite believe what she’s telling you. Melissa notices your disbelief and knows she has to try something drastic, drastic situations call for drastic measures. She places her hand on your chin and forces you to look up at her. “Maybe you’ll believe me now.” She tells you in a low, almost seductive voice, and kisses you.
You’re stunned when she does and you don’t know what to do. She pulls back and sees your expression. “Were you not expecting that?” She jokes and you shake your head.
“I..um…well… you’re straight.” You tell her and she giggles.
“I’m not straight hun. I lean more towards men but a few women have caught my eye over the years.” She tells you and you stare at her in disbelief. “Do you have a crush on me?” She asks you since you’re staring at her and you nod your head. “Well that’s good cause I have a crush on you.” She tells you and you blink at her, looking like a deer in the headlights. She cups your cheek, “can I kiss you again?” She asks you and you immediately nod your head and she giggles, she kisses you again and this time you kiss her back. You put a hand at the back of her head and she places one on your waist. After about a minute, you pull away for air.
“Wow” you say, trying to catch your breath.
“How about you come back to my place tonight? It’s Friday night so no school tomorrow and maybe I can show you another way of how beautiful you are, with or without scars.” She tells you and you practically hear your brain crashing.
“I- you…um..what?” You ask her.
She leans in to your ear and whispers seductively. “If you come over after school then I’ll kiss all your scars and your entire body.” She says and leans back and winks at you. “Think about it.” She says and leaves.
You go back to your students, completely forgetting that you don’t have a sweater on until one of your students asks you where you got the scar on your right arm. You look at it then look at your student that looks full of curiosity. “Car accident.” You tell him and your students all look at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
“That’s so cool! Not the car accident but your scar. It makes you look cool.” He says to you and you smile.
“Thanks kiddo.” You tell him and then get back to your lesson.
After school you dismiss your last student and see Melissa standing in your doorway, your sweater in her hands. “Hey.” Just tells you and you walk towards her.
“Hi.” You tell her and blush.
“You’re cute when you blush.” She says and you blush even more. “So have you decided about tonight?” She asks and you nod. “What is it then?”
“I want to come to your place.” You say and she smiles.
“Good choice, come on then. I’ll drive us there.” She says and turns to leave.
“What about my car?” You ask her and she looks at you.
“I can drive you back here to get it tomorrow.” She tells you and you nod and follow her out.
She drives you to her place, with a hand on your thigh the entire time, that you noticed kept creeping up more and more. You try to keep your composure but it was hard when her hand was so close to where you’ve wanted her for months.
As soon as you walk in her house she spins around and traps you between her and her door. You look at her stunned and you blush. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me, trying not to kiss you for the past 5 months?” She says in a seductive voice and you shake your head. “Well I’m going to show you, come on!” She tells you and grabs your hand and pulls you upstairs to her room.
Once there she pushes you down on the bed and crawls on top of you. The sight makes you lightheaded in the best way. She kisses you passionately and she takes your breath away. While kissing you, she begins to unbutton your jumper slowly. Once done, she pulls back and looks at you as she takes the top half off of you.
“You look so beautiful.” She says and begins kissing the scars that are on your chest and arms. She then proceeds to kiss your neck then nipples and you moan. Once she’s satisfied with her work, she pulls the button part of your jumper off of you. “Omg y/n, how are you so beautiful? I feel so lucky right now.” She says and kisses the scars on your legs. After she makes sure she got all of them, she then kisses your clit, making you buck your hips.
“Oh Melissa, oh my god.” You say grabbing her hair as she sucks on your clit. She pulls away and replaces her lips with a finger.
“What is it baby? What is it you want?” She asks you with a smirk.
“You! Want you, inside me.” You tell her and she smiles.
“As you wish.” And she pushes 2 fingers inside of you and you moan. Melissa is just loving the sounds you’re making because of her, she could listen to them all day. But for now, she wants to hear you when you cum. She attaches her mouth back to your clit and continues to fuck you with her fingers. She sees you start to shake and feels you clenching her fingers. “Are you gonna cum baby?” She asks and you nod. “Go on then, cum for me.” She tells you and you cum on her fingers. She gently pulls out of you and licks her fingers that were inside of you, moaning at the taste of you. “God, you’re so beautiful and you taste so good.” She says and you blush.
Monday morning you come to school in a dress that stops mid thigh and a smile on your face. You walk into the break room, get your coffee and sit on the couch next to Melissa. She sees you in a dress and she smiles and places a kiss on your lips.
All your coworkers see this and their jaws drop. Then Ava hands $20 over to Barb and Gregory hands $20 over to Jacob and Janine. You look at them all confused. “Were you betting on something?” You ask them.
“Ya, they were betting on when I’d tell you I like you.” Melissa says with a sigh and you giggle. Melissa wraps an arm around you and pulls you in closer.
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta
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@sexysapphicshopowner
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Let me know if you want to be added!
#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x oc#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti#x reader#fanfic
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hey, I'm a new reader and I love that you write dark stuff! you asked for unhinged requests.. i hope it's not too unhinged <3
a chillout evening with euronymous hearing music and smoking pot at reader's flat. the house party slowly comes to an end and he's the only guest left. He talks about hating posers and that he admires pelle for cutting himself on stage. he wants to try it too - now. both are super drunk and stoned, he gives reader the knife. after a bit hesitation he gets what he wants and it really turns him on. It leads to nasty sloppy bloody sex with a very submissive and masochistic Euro. Could also fit to Kappa!
My dearest nonnie, thank you for this request! 🫶🏻
Creep
Summary: After a night of party and unprompted celebration, some matters with your boyfriend take a drastic turn in a very different direction…
Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Unprotected P In V, Implied Substance Use (Pot And Alcohol), Kink Acceptance, Consensual Cutting, Blood Kink, Submissive!Euro, Dom!Reader, Reader and Øystein Are Painfully Lost For A Hot Minute, Pet Names/Honorifics, Implied Aftercare, Varg Vikernes Slander 💅🏻
A/N: I believe that by now we all know that I'm writing about Rory portraying Euronymous and not the edgelord with a patchy mustache 💀
Tagging the horny horde:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
- Creep By Radiohead
Accompanied by a long, dragged out yawn, you let your back fall against the cozy mattress of your messy bed. You stretched your tired body and felt like sinking into the fabric of your soft duvet, uncounted amounts of Tequila shots and a bloodstream saturated with THC doubled down on you after hosting a rather impromptu party with Euronymous and his friends from the Black Circle at your place.
"Øystein!", You called out to your boyfriend who waddled towards the bed while simultaneously stripping out of his clothes up to his shorts, "C'm here…I wanna cuddle you!"
Your voice slurred a bit but you didn't care. As long as your head wouldn't start spinning just now, you'd manage.
"On my way!" Euronymous stated, stumbling towards the bed and flopping himself right next to you face first before he turned on his back with an exhausted groan.
"Next time you better warn me before you just bring your greasy boy horde here, Øystein!" You teased whilst closely snuggling up to him, cradling his lean statue in your arms.
"I did!", He mumbled with a wide, zooted-out grin on his face, "I texted you 20 minutes before!"
"You know what I mean." Your elbow playfully nudged his side before he scooted closer into your embrace, sighing contentedly.
"Yeah, yeah…sorry, won't happen again. But it was nice, no?" His temple leaned into the crook of your neck and you felt his warm breath, heavy with hints of weed and alcohol on your collarbone.
"Yeah, unexpectedly nice but I've been wondering why Varg's never around to party." Your furrowed your brows just a little at the thought.
"You mean Christian?", Øystein snarled in an unmistakably derogatory tone, "Fucking poser if you ask me. He's too busy being a boring prick with his no alcohol, no party and no meat policy."
"Kinda no pussy policy, too, huh?" With your comment you elicited a loud and hearty laugh from your boyfriend's mouth.
"Oh, absolutely! Dude ripped off his cringe Scorpions patch and thinks he's the big deal now…stupid poser…" Euronymous mumbled into the skin of your neck before he looked up at you, his bloodshot eyes searching yours.
"Mmm…babe? Can I ask you something?" His lips pursed a little, sparking your curiosity.
"Sure, what's up?" You met his drowsy gaze with a warm smile.
"Uhm, I don't want to sound like a complete nut job, but..", He huffed reluctantly, biting down on the insides of his cheek, "But I think it's pretty cool what Pelle did at our last gig, you know, the…well, y'know?"
"The….cutting? You mean that?" Your brows arched a bit further in a low wave of concern.
Of course you've supported your boyfriend at their last gig, just like every gig before that but what happened on stage that time had been something a little very outlandish, even to you.
"Yeah, uhm…", Øystein stuttered somewhat insecure, nearly tripping over his own words, "I…okay, so…I think that was really…like really damn true."
"Okay…" You reciprocated slowly, the creeping feeling that this was not being all to it dawning on you, "....and?"
"And…ugh…" Euronymous shimmied himself out of your hug a little to properly look at you, "Hear me out, okay? I-...I know it sounds fucking deranged but…maybe…I'd like to know how that feels?"
His voice rendered lower with every word until the last bit of the sentence was nearly inaudible.
"Oh…", It fell from your lips a little clueless, "I mean…I couldn't stop you from doing it, but.."
"That's not…", Øystein interrupted you, his pale cheeks flushing with a tint of red, "It's not…I…fuck….I'd like you to do it. Thought about it since the last show. There, it's out now."
He made a move to turn his head away from you in shame but before he could, you cupped his jaw with the palm of your hand and guided him back to look at you. So many alcohol and weed spiked thoughts ran through your thoroughly intoxicated mind that you hardly knew what to say about it and of all things possible it was an upright "Are you sure about that?" that rolled over your tongue.
"Yeah." He muttered, eyes widening in uncertain anticipation.
"Okay, uhm…so…don't you think that…that we should maybe do this sober, babe?" You suggested, watching how his cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.
"No, yes, ugh…I…can we maybe just try it? Now?" You took notice of the almost needy desperation in his voice and you'd be lying if you said it wasn’t doing something to you.
"Now?" You inquired a bit taken aback.
"Yeah.", Øystein nodded, scooting further away from you until he raised his torso off the bed, reaching for his pants, "Here…with that."
His slightly trembling fingers fumbled around the waistband of his trousers, fishing for a hunting knife that he started to carry with himself in a sheath on his belt a while ago. As soon as he had pulled the sharp metal blade from its casing, he held it up to you and your eyes widened at the dedication in his proposal.
"The sharper the better… Pelle told me.", Euronymous stated with a tremble in his tone, "Takes less effort….y'know."
"Uh, wow, uhm…you really want that, huh?" , You took the handle from his grip and studied the shape of the blade cautiously, "With all due respect, babe, this looks really sharp…"
"Fair enough…" With your eyes trained to the blade you sat yourself back upright against the headboard of your bed.
"Okay…so…so how do we start this now, huh?" You mumbled more to yourself than to your gradually more excited boyfriend.
"Like…where would you want me to cut you?" It rambled out of you.
With an equally puzzled face, Euronymous took a seat in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at the knife in your hand.
"Not my arms, that's for sure…thighs, maybe?" He suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.
"But, like, the top, yeah? I'm not gonna cut you on the insides." A slight shudder went through you just at the thought of possibly cutting too deep on the inside of his thighs.
"Yeah, yeah…of course, that's good." He replied with a shaky voice.
"Okay, so, am I just gonna…", You inhaled sharply to steady yourself, "Am I just gonna do this now or what?"
"I'm ready, I trust you, babe." Øystein wiggled a little in his sitting position, "Do you want me to help you get started?"
"Yeah, I think that wouldn't be too bad…" At that he reached for your hand that was holding the knife, cupping it and slowly bringing it towards his thigh, pointing the sharp tip right against the delicate, pale skin of his leg.
"Are you really sure about this?" You asked once more, just to be sure.
"Yes. I want that, been thinking about it for so long now…" Euronymous answered in heavy breaths, feeling the tip of the blade on his skin.
"Okay…so…" You slowly lowered the end of the blade onto his skin, applying a very careful amount of pressure.
The device was indeed so sharp that it broke through the first layers of his skin like a bread knife through room-temperature butter.
"That's is…" Øystein encouraged you and with that you slid the blade over his thigh, a bright red stream of blood pooling at the incision right away.
"Fuck.." Your boyfriend exhaled while he threw his head back.
"Fuck, what? Is it bad? Do you want me to stop?!" You were ready to pull the blade back at any second.
"No, more…please…, Ma'am." Euronymous pushed between trembling lips and his intonation shot right through you, sending a jolt of arousal right to your cunt.
With the knife in your hand and your gaze transfixed on the first cut, deeply red droplets gathering all over it, you placed the blade a little lower, repeating the same motion, ripping his skin and drawing even more blood.
"Shit…fuck….feels so good, Ma'am." He huffed, sounding…grateful.
"Good god, such a good boy for me, huh?" You jumped right into his headspace, shamelessly indulging in it.
"Always!" Øystein groaned out as you left another shallow yet efficient cut on his thigh.
With a subconsciously forming grin around your lips, you noticed how your boyfriend's cock started twitching in his briefs.
"Aww, is that making you hard, Øystein?" You pushed only to be hit by: "Just one more, please, one more and I'll fuck you so good, Ma'am, I promise!"
With eyes wide and an already throbbing cunt, you cut over his thigh once more, eagerly awaiting his reaction.
"Fuuuuuuuck!" He pressed a guttural groan through trembling lips before unceremoniously slapping the knife out of your hand and practically pouncing on you.
Before your intoxicated brain could truly fathom what was happening, Euronymous shoved his shorts down to his knees for his hard on to slap against his lower abdomen in a wet thud as he pushed his crotch between your legs.
"Shit, you really needed that, didn't you?" It cascaded out of your mouth as you felt him drilling into you.
"Yes, fuck…yes, Ma'am, thank you!" He whined against the shell of your ear as he started fucking into you at a reckless pace.
With every needy thrust of his hips against your lap, you felt the blood, still oozing out of the cuts, sticking against your thighs. Lewd, wet and squelching sounds from his cock pushing in and out of your cunt mixed in with the slapping of skin against skin and you could hardly hold on to yourself because Øystein never ever went that feral on you just like that.
"Such a good, needy boy for me, filling me up so fucking good!" You praised as your eyes fluttered shut, your entire body buzzing with physical sensations.
Every roll of his hips against you had you tethering on the edge of orgasming already. In your thoroughly intoxicated state, you could hardly tell whether or not your pussy was contracting all around him by then or not. Every sensation was fading into the next one, making you feel like cumming on his cock for as long as Øystein kept fucking into you.
"Oh, God, fuck….shit…" It spilled out of his mouth as he hammered himself into you one last time.
"Ma'am, fuck…." Euronymous groaned into your ear right before you recognised his cock twitching and pulsing inside of you, pumping his load deep into your pussy.
"You good?" It left your mouth in heavy breaths.
"Uh-huh…" He muttered before collapsing right onto you, his face hidden deep into your neck.
"Shit…that was something…", You tried to catch your breath while wrapping your arms around his sweat coated back, "You did so good for me, love."
"Really?" Øystein hummed into your skin.
"Of course you did. We gonna take good care of those cuts tomorrow, yeah?"
#tam rambles#asks are appreciated#asks are always open#rory culkin#euronymous x fem!reader#euronymous x reader#euronymous#euronymous × you#euronymous smut#rory culkin lords of chaos#lords of chaos
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hear me out 🗣️ 8 and 20 from the prompt list but with lloyd ‼️
You got it, my friend! Hope this turned out okay ^^”
Word count: 1.2k
Ninjago - 8. “Come here. Let me hold you.” and 20. “Your hands are warm.” (Lloyd) (300 follower event)
The floor was cold and hard, cobblestone scraping your palms as you were carelessly tossed into the cell.
You let out an enraged roar, stumbling to your feet and lunging for the door, but you weren’t quite able to balance yourself, so you toppled onto your stomach. Your fingers stretched to the door, but you had to jerk them back when the heavy iron door almost crushed them.
You cursed loudly, hissing at the new pains in your body. “As if they didn’t already beat me up enough.”
You sat up, flinching at the motion even though you were going slow. You looked yourself over, gently touching the blood that seeped from a couple especially bad injuries with your fingertips. But the worst pains were coming from your ankle, which wasn’t bleeding but was starting to swell frightfully. You figured it was probably broken.
Tears welled in your eyes, as much from pain as from frustration. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you huffed, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve.
“No,” a morose voice came from the darkness. “It wasn’t.”
Perhaps the worst part of this whole situation was that he was caught, too; thrown into this very dungeon a mere few moments before you.
“I’m so sorry, Lloyd.”
“What are you sorry for?”
You stared blankly at the ground. “For getting us into this mess.”
“Wasn’t your fault,” Lloyd said calmly. You glanced over to him, surprised to see how cozy he looked in the corner of the cold cell. He had his hands folded in his lap, and he was looking at you as if this was all the most normal thing in the world.
But when he saw your tears glistening in the torchlight, his face twisted into a frown.
“You don’t blame yourself for this, do you?”
You looked away, the abrupt motion jarring a tear straight down your face and off your jawline.
“Oh, Y/n…”
“I’m sorry,” you rasped.
“Come here. Let me hold you.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you still shuffled miserably over to him, ignoring the numerous painful points on your body. They were nothing compared to the vortex of guilt you were feeling inside.
You rested your back against him, letting him wrap his arms around you. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Y/n.”
“It’s all my fault,” you spat bitterly.
“It’s no more your fault than mine. We did everything right; we were quiet, we stayed out of sight, we were following the plan—”
“Then how did we end up here?”
“Well—”
“I was staring at the guards,” you cut in, ignoring him. “I thought to myself, don’t you dare so much as blink, Y/n. And then I blinked. And then the guard looked right at us!”
Lloyd was quiet for a second. “Hold on,” he said, his tone suddenly losing its gentleness, “you think that we got caught because you blinked?”
You huffed in response.
Laughter filled the cell. “You think—you think he could hear you blink?”
“How else would he have known we were there?”
“First Spinjitsu Master,” he wheezed, “that’s hilarious!”
You snapped your head to look over your shoulder at him. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m sorry,” he managed between giggles, “but that is rich, Y/n.”
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
He shook his head, finally regaining his composure. An amused grin lingered on his lips while he spoke: “There is no way that guard heard you blink. It was pure misfortune that got us here. Nothing more, nothing less.”
You just turned away, hoping to avoid further scrutiny. But your silence spoke louder than words.
“Y/n, you have to believe me,” Lloyd tightened his arms around your waist, bringing you close enough for him to kiss your shoulder. “It was not your fault.”
“Then whose was it?”
Lloyd thought for a minute. “Well, it was obviously that guard’s fault.”
You looked over your shoulder at him. one eyebrow raised inquisitively.
“He was probably bored, and decided to glance around for something interesting to look at. Very irresponsible of him, looking for distractions like that while on the job.”
You couldn’t help a little smile, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lloyd before you turned back around.
“As a matter of fact, I think he was in such a hurry to get us in here because his boss called him into his office.”
“To fire him?” You suggested, your smile only growing.
“Oh, definitely. I’d say he was a repeat offender on the getting-distracted offense. You could just tell by looking into those eyes. Those big, beautiful—I mean delicious—I mean—”
“Lloyd!” You could hold back your laughter no longer. You clapped one hand over your mouth and gripped your stomach with the other, snorting as you tried to cease your giggles.
The noise set Lloyd off, too, and soon you were both in a pile on the floor, literally rolling with laughter.
You came to a stop side by side, facing each other with softening smiles. Lloyd’s eyes were twinkling with the joy and hope that you always looked to when you needed motivation to keep going, and you were sure yours were shining with admiration.
Lloyd reached out and grabbed your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.
“Your hands are warm,” you sighed, bringing your other hand to enclose his. He put his other hand on top of it in turn, letting you absorb the warmth.
You stayed like that for a while, staring into each other’s love-stricken faces, your hands clasped between you. Your chests slowed in their rising and falling as you regained your breath from your giggle fit, and soon you were breathing deep in perfect synchronization.
Lloyd’s eyes suddenly flicked up and behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know that he was looking at that heavy iron door.
“Okay,” he resolved, suddenly heaving himself to a sitting position and dragging you along. “Time to bust out of here.”
He tried pulling you to your feet, but you shook your head frantically and gestured to your grapefruit-sized ankle.
He inhaled sharply through his teeth as if he could feel the pain himself. Then, glancing between you and the door, he shrugged with a smile that you wanted to believe wasn’t mischievous.
“Guess I’ll have to carry you.”
In one fluid swoop, he threw you over his shoulders and charged at the door. You saw a bright flash and in a second the heavy iron door was crumpled on the ground.
He shifted you to a bridal-style carry as he hurried down the hall. “Okay, we probably have five minutes until they come for us. We’ll have to be sneaky, or that time will be much shorter.”
You nodded, trying to will the blush out of your cheeks. For such a lean guy, Lloyd was remarkably strong; something you always somehow forgot, resulting in you blushing like a school-kid every time he showed off like this.
Much to your dismay, caught your darkening face, and a smug grin came to his lips.
“Don’t blink. I wouldn’t want them to hear us.”
“Shut up,” you snorted, covering your face with your hands.
Thank you for taking part in our 300 follower event!! :D and thanks for reading, take care lovelies <33
(divider by saradika)
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Rulers of Ruin
Chapter 4
Alright so I’ve been toying with this complex mafia!au fic idea for a very long while and I guess it’s time to give it a whirl. I already have about ten chapters written out (I’m expecting it to be at least 20 chapters), but I want to test out the waters first. I’ll start posting more if some of you are interested in knowing what the hell is going on.
Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)
Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader
Synopsis: um, tf is going on??? Stay tuned for more chapters to come.
Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.
Wordcount: 2.8k
Masterlist
Chapter 3
The morning light had not yet pierced the darkness when Y/N was abruptly roused from her sleep by the rustling of security guards entering her room. The sudden intrusion was quickly followed by a stern order; she was being summoned to a meeting with Namjoon.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Y/N slid out of bed to find she was wearing pajamas.
Mrs Shin, YN thought as she recalled last night’s events, that old bitch.
Still drowsy, she went to open her wardrobe, which was now curiously filled with clothing. Everything black. "How fitting," she muttered under her breath as she selected an outfit.
The girl dressed quickly and was escorted through the sterile, echoing halls of the mansion. The crisp morning air hadn't yet warmed the austere corridors, adding a chill to her already uneasy anticipation.
Upon entering a broad, sunlight-flooded office, Y/N was met by the sight of Namjoon and another man, who had pale skin and sharp, cat-like eyes.
Namjoon turned to face her, offering a nod in greeting. "YN-ah," he said, his eyes briefly scanning her face, "I’m glad to see you looking better today."
"Nothing like a little blackout rest to brighten up those dark circles," Y/N responded sternly.
"I trust you’re enjoying your new quarters?" Namjoon inquired.
Unimpressed by his attempts at cordiality, Y/N offered no reply, her silence laden with indifference.
"I hope you’ve got everything you need up there," he pressed on.
"Cut the crap,” Y/N’s voice sliced through the pleasantries, her stance firm, eyes narrowing slightly, “are you going to tell me why I’m here?"
"Alrighty, then," Namjoon conceded with a slight nod, gesturing subtly to the guards. At his signal, they exited, leaving only the man with cat-like eye whom he had been speaking to earlier. "Let’s get straight to it, shall we?"
As the door closed, Namjoon motioned towards a plush chair opposite his desk, but Y/N chose to remain standing. She crossed her arms, her posture rigid.
Namjoon sighed, « I’m sure you’re wonde-»
"Before you even start, » Y/N cut in sharply, her gaze unwavering, « you should know that I have zero intel. »
"Come on now, Y/N, » Namjoon replied, his voice smooth, attempting to diffuse the tension with a light chuckle, « don’t sell yourself short like that. » He leaned back slightly against the edge of his desk, his demeanor casual yet calculating, as he watched her closely.
"I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve been away for the past four years, » Y/N's voice was sharp, her frustration palpable as she confronted Namjoon across the sleek surface of his desk. « Oh, but wait—you must’ve known, considering you sent your minions after me the second I landed back in this god forsaken country," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Namjoon leaned back casually. "Early bird gets the worm," he quipped, clearly unbothered by her accusatory tone.
« Well, I’m afraid you’re bound to starve,” Y/N pressed, her eyes narrowing as she gauged his reaction. “Even if I did know something, we both know I could never tell you."
"I don’t need information from you,” Namjoon retorted smoothly, his gaze steady and assessing. “Your mere presence will suffice, I’m sure."
YN rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Did I not tell you to do your research? My brother is not one to negotiate. This is not what we do," her voice grew colder, more distant. It was common knowledge that when a member of the Park clan was weak or dumb enough to be taken, they were considered good riddance. Left to fend for themselves, prove their worth. It was all part of the code. “No one is coming for me." Her last sentence hung in the air.
"I wouldn’t be so sure," the man with cat eyes, suddenly spoke up. « Look what came knocking at the headquarters this morning. » He pointed to the desk where a stark symbol lay—a raven, motionless, its neck broken.
Y/N’s jaw clenched at the sight. « Animal cruelty, real classy, Namjoon,” she snapped with biting sarcasm, “Between that and last night’s roofie, you’ve become a proper little delinquent, haven’t you? »
« They’re a bad omen, » the cat-eyed man said nonchalantly, « we weren’t gonna take the chance. »
Y/N stared at the lifeless bird intensely. A bad omen. A chill ran down her spine as she wondered whether she was destined to share a similar fate. Would her neck be the next to break under their twisted sense of precaution?
« But that’s hardly the interesting part, » the man interrupted her train of thoughts, handing her a folded piece of parchment, “here’s what it carried.”
She unfolded it with hesitant fingers to reveal a simple sketch.
A Tiger’s head. In jet black ink.
They all knew what that meant.
"A little old-fashioned, I must say," Namjoon observed with a slight chuckle, "an email would’ve worked just as well."
Y/N stared at the symbol, her mind racing. Her brother couldn’t possibly be willing to declare war over her safety.
Could he?
"Don’t worry," Namjoon said, cutting through her thoughts. « I can assure you your kin hasn’t grown sentimental while you were away."
"Then what do you make of this?" she asked, her confusion giving way to a growing sense of urgency.
"Ah, Y/N-ah, » Namjoon sighed, content, « you really have been gone a long time, haven’t you? » his tone was almost pitying now.
"Spit it out, will you?" Y/N demanded, her patience thinning.
Namjoon leaned forward, clasping his hands together as he prepared to reveal the crux of the matter, his expression serious. "What this means," he began, "is that the game has changed. And whether you like it or not, you are now a pivotal player."
Namjoon fixed his gaze on Y/N, his voice low and deliberate. "Rumor has it your family's operations are teetering on the edge," he continued, observing her closely for any telltale reaction. "It seems your brother's firm hand may be squeezing a little too tight, risking a shortage in your flock soon."
Y/N's expression hardened, a subtle tension in her shoulders as she processed his words.
"Then again," Namjoon added, his tone shifting slightly, "We both know collapse simply isn’t in the cards for your clan. Its unique strategic position will safeguard its continuity… provided your brother knows how to leverage it.”
“After all,” he mused, “The intel your family has access to isn’t just valuable—it's the linchpin that could radically alter the political landscape of the entire continent."
He leaned back his eyes never leaving Y/N. "And let’s be clear," he continued, "the lengths to which some might go to access this information are boundless."
Y/N felt a chill as she absorbed the full impact of his words, her mind racing.
“I’m sure I don’t need to utter their names for you to know the parties interested,” Namjoon added.
The Kims.
The Kangs
The Lees.
Even the Chois, possibly.
Any of the other four original clans, really, could be talked into parting ways with some of their troops. For the right price, of course. Tit for tat.
The stakes were clear, and the players were formidable.
Still one piece still didn’t fit.
“I don’t see what all this has to do with me,” YN stated.
Namjoon smirked, “You’re smarter than that.”
“Apparently not,” she replied sternly.
He let out a heavy contemplative breath. “Why do you think you, of all people, were summoned back here in the first place? After four years away? » He paused, giving her a moment to absorb the implications. « Just when your clan finds itself on the precipice of needing to form a—permanent alliance.”
His words struck a cold vein.
No.
She scoffed, shaking her head as if to dismiss the very thought.
"Come on now," Namjoon pressed, his voice smooth yet insistent, "you didn’t honestly think he’d missed you?"
“You’re wrong-” she continued, denial lacing her tone.
« Oh, but I’m not, » he confirmed with a nod, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “Your birthright, it seems, has become the currency of power brokers." He paused, watching her face slowly decompose. “And word on the street is that your dear brother is bound to start quite the bidding war for a spot in your family tree.”
YN pondered the chilling possibility that Namjoon might be right; her brother was more than capable of pulling such a twisted stunt, if only just to spite her.
Her eyes narrowed; her stance tensed. "So, what is this, then? A proposal? You’re going to force me down the aisle like some 15th-century bride?" The scorn in her voice was unmistakable.
"Do you really think that low of me?" Namjoon retorted, his eyebrows arching in feigned surprise.
"I’ve learned to manage my expectations," she shot back.
"Well, rest assured, there will be no wedding," Namjoon stated firmly, his tone serious as he leaned forward slightly, bridging the gap between them.
« Jesus Christ, stop with the riddles, already, » Y/N snapped, “what the fuck are you trying to achieve, here?”
Namjoon let out a heavy sigh, his gaze intensifying as he fixed his eyes on Y/N. "I suppose," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "we’re offering you- exile, at least until we get some kind of assurance from your clan that this ridiculous quest of theirs is over. »
YN was at a loss for words as she stared at Namjoon in disbelief. The Kims hadn’t built an empire by doing good deeds. Surely, there had to be an angle somewhere.
"So, you’re telling me you didn’t even think to join the auction then, huh?" she pressed with a wary tone. "I must say I’m almost offended. Do you not think me pretty enough for one of your own, Namjoon? »
He rolled his eyes, a gesture that did little to mask the strategic mind behind his relaxed facade. « You know politics is not our game. We couldn’t care less what happens in matters of state, so long as we can conduct our business in peace," he retorted.
"That being said," Namjoon leaned forward, his expression turning grave, "the charter is clear. No blood bonding, no alliances. We won’t let it happen, » he declared, "not again. »
As Namjoon spoke, YN's mind was transported back to the haunting tales of her childhood, relayed by her nanny in the dim glow of firelight—stories steeped in the brutal feuds that had shaped the history of the Korean underworld. The room seemed to fill with the spectral presence of those turbulent times: relentless bloodbaths and deep-rooted rivalries that governed life and death.
One tale, in particular, stood stark in her memory: When the Lees, an ancient and unforgiving clan, had once resorted to hiring a Park bladesman to settle a bitter business score with the Tigers. The one to pay the price had been none other than the young heir to the Kim clan—Namjoon's father.
The assault, carried out under the cover of darkness, had left the boy permanently marred, a savage act of retribution that inflicted wounds deeper than the visible scars on his face.
To be fair, each clan gave as good as they got. But the end of the war had come with the desire for a peaceful era between the clans.
That’s what the Mutual Prosperity Charter had been for.
Deciding to stay out of each other’s business as much as possible, the 5 original signatories had managed to grow their empires without resorting to backstabbing each other for over 60 years. Of course, there had been... incidents, here and there, but everything was handled in agreement with the charter. An eye for an eye. Never further.
Then again, what’s bred in the bone is bound to come out in the flesh.
She could’ve punched herself for being so blind. They deeply feared an alliance, feared her role in it. These stories were more than mere tales; they served as dire warnings. As YN pondered, the depth of Namjoon's determination became starkly evident. The scars borne by his father were not just physical marks; they were vivid reminders of the perilous consequences that clan fraternization could bring.
Though their concerns were understandable, YN couldn't help but find the intensity of their reaction overblown.
All of that fuss over some stupid old grudges? Pathetic, she thought. Scared little kittens.
“I didn’t know the Kims to be resentful. » Y/N broke the silence, each word dripping with insinuation. «Is daddy still upset? » she continued with a mocking pout, noting the slight tightening of Namjoon’s jaw. “You know, a scar is a mark of honor up north, he really shouldn’t have taken it so personally.”
She paused, her gaze scanning Namjoon’s squeezed fist deliberately. “Where is your father, by the way?” she prodded further, her words calculated to provoke. “I don’t see a signet ring on your hand, so I assume the old man hasn’t kicked the bucket just yet.”
Crossing the small distance between them with a few purposeful steps, Y/N reached out and adjusted Namjoon’s tie. « So where is he, then? »
The man’s eyes hardened, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly as he grasped her wrist, stopping her movements. His frustration was palpable, almost radiating from him in waves as he stared down at her, his voice a low growl. “Watch your tone. »
“What?” her voice dropped to a whisper, venomous and taunting, “Did daddy finally come to terms with the fact that little golden boy Namjoonie is simply too soft for the big job?”
Namjoon maintained a veneer of control, but it was clear that her jabs had struck a nerve. His glance shifted subtly to his subordinate, conveying a silent command that was understood instantly.
Without hesitation, the cat-eyed man moved with a swift, practiced motion, striking Y/N's face with such force that she stumbled and fell to her knees.
“Motherf—" Y/N winced in pain, her hand flying to her throbbing cheek as she struggled to regain her composure. Looking up at Namjoon through narrowed eyes, she shot back, "Whatever happened to 'no touching the face', huh?"
Namjoon's response was chillingly indifferent. "Scars have a way of fading over time," he remarked coldly. His eyes didn't waver from her pained gaze, his stance firm and unyielding. "You, of all people, would know. »
Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, the metallic taste of blood seeping onto her tongue—a stark reminder of the precariousness of her position.
Namjoon crouched down to her level, his face impassive but his eyes sharp and calculating. He extended a handkerchief toward her. Gently, almost incongruously tender, he dabbed at the blood trickling from her lip. « Now that things are- clearer, » he began, his voice low and controlled, "remember you are our guest here, just stay out of trouble and there will be no reason for things to get ugly." The underlying threat in his tone was clear, cloaked in the veneer of civility.
As he rose to his full height, he signaled to his subordinate, who had been standing by silently, watching the interaction with an impassive expression.
"All we need to do is wait ‘till this all gets figured out," Namjoon added, his voice carrying a hint of finality as he moved towards the door.
He was about to step out when Y/N's voice, stronger now, called after him.
"And how long do you expect that to be?" she asked.
Namjoon paused in the doorway, turning his head slightly. "Weeks, months, hell, maybe years," he said with a shrug, his tone nonchalant as if it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. "Lucky for you, time is now the least of your concerns." With those words, he stepped out, leaving the door to swing shut behind him, the soft click of the latch a stark finality in the quiet room.
Left alone, Y/N steadied herself, drawing a deep breath as she processed the encounter. She knew the real game had only just begun.
--
Alright, that chapter was a little heavy on information, and I tried to not make everything too obvious or clear-cut, but I don't know if it's maybe too confusing, or not enough. If you can't even understand the jist of it all, do tell me lol. Because it makes sense to me, but I have the bigger map in mind so I'm not exactly objective lol
Anyway, hope you liked it. If some of you are intrigued or interested in finding out more, don't hesitate to interact and I'll start posting some more chapters! Also questions and remarks and feedback are welcome xxx
Chapter 5
Masterlist
Taglist
@princess-sunshyn
#mafia au#mafia#bts mafia au#bts mafia#bts mafia series#bts fic#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts imagines#bts imagine#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#jeon jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#bts fan fiction#bts angst#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook smut#jungkook mafia#jungkook imagine
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🍸🍒Modern!Eddie x Waitress!Reader🍒🍺
Blurb featuring Modern!Bartender!Steve
It’s only a Thursday night but the bar is slammed. It’s your second day and the other waitress, your supposed “trainer”, is nowhere to be found. Probably out back smoking another cigarette. You’re juggling 6 tables and one particularly difficult woman just flagged you down.
“Is everything ok ma’am?” You ask politely. “No, this wine is way too sweet. I wanted something dry. Bring me the pinto grigio!” She says as she pushes the full glass towards you. You smile and turn, rolling your eyes as you approach Steve and Eddie at the bar. Eddie’s sitting on his usual stool, drinking a beer while he scrolls on his phone. You lean onto the sticky bar top and wait for Steve to finish shaking a martini to get his attention.
Eddie eyes your profile, your cute face looking overwhelmed and stressed. He’s never seen you before, he usually knows all the new waitresses here. Fuckin’ Harrington, he thinks, always tries to keep the cute ones for himself.
“Hey.” Eddie says over the loud music, leather covered shoulders angling towards you. His fingers tap around the neck of his beer bottle. You glance at him, one eye still on Steve.
“Hi. Look, I’m swamped, if you want another beer, you gotta ask your bartender.” “No, no, it’s not that. Just- are you ok? Do I need to grab a tray and help you out?” He asks jokingly. You crack a smile at that, and Eddie’s heart starts beating faster.
“Cause I’m serious, I’ll take over. Drinks probably won’t go to the right people and I’d end up spilling food but, hey, fuck it.” He says with a shrug as he gulps the last of his beer. You shake your head and laugh, “please, I think you’re better off right here. I’m fine…” your eyes stare into his for the first time and you swear you feel the ground get pulled out from under you. He’s criminally hot. Like sculpted by the gods hot. Long hair framing the perfect bone structure of his face, two dimples poked into his cheeks as he smiles back at you. His eyes are like warm cups of hot cocoa, sweet and comforting. His worn in Black Sabbath T shirt contradicts his new iPhone 14 shining back at him.
“I’m Eddie. I’m a friend of Steve’s.” He nods toward the floppy haired bartender. “Y/n.” You say as you reach out a hand to shake his. He grabs your hand but he doesn’t shake it. Instead, he just holds it for a second. His warm, guitar string scarred fingers encircling your soft, cold ones. You giggle nervously as the butterflies are shaken awake in your stomach.
Steve appears out of nowhere, “bruh these frat douchebags are going to be the death of me, I think my arm’s going to fall off if I shake another martini.” he says to you and Eddie. You smile your most saccharine smile, “hey Stevie. The woman on 22 doesn’t like this wine. Can I switch it out for a pinot?” He growls in annoyance, “that’s a 7 ounce pour, y/n. you think Tito is gonna be ok with me just pouring that down the drain?” He asks you, referring to the manager. He raises his eyebrows as he throws a towel over his shoulder.
You shrug, “I guess not…” you mumble. “It’s coming out of your tips. Go write it down on the spill sheet.” Steve snaps as he pours the pinot grigio. “Ok, I will. Sorry Steve.” You say as you take the wine and head back to your tables.
“What the hell, man? S’not her fault some bitch didn’t like the shitty wine in this place.” Eddie says as he tosses a peanut at Steve. “How else is she going to learn?” Steve says as he rests his palms on the bar top. “This isn’t a daycare, I’m not here to hold her hand through life.”
“She’s fucking new, Harrington, give her a break.” Eddie says. Steve opens his mouth to argue before being cut off by a guy in a polo. “‘Nother dirty martini, barkeep!” Steve nods at him before looking back at Eddie. “You want another beer?” Steve asks him before he goes back to deal with the group of Chad’s and Dylan’s. Eddie shakes his head as he throws a 20 on the bar, licking his lips and winking at Steve.
He looks around the bar to say goodbye to you but he doesn’t see you. Everyone seems content, drinking their overpriced cocktails, eating their greasy food. Even the woman with the wine seems happy. The other waitress is back but now you’re gone. He heads toward the back door to leave, passing the digital jukebox that the frat bros have taken over-trolling everyone with Nickelback on repeat, passing the bathrooms and the breakroom.
You come out of the breakroom wiping under your eyes, sparkles that were once in your inner corner now smeared down your cheeks. “Scuse me.” You say as you try to squeeze past Eddie. “Hey, hey.” He says, hand coming up to cradle your elbow. “You good?” His eyebrows crinkle in concern, eyes scanning your face. You nod and try to squeak out a “mhm.” but more tears are threatening to spill.
“Was it what Steve said? I told him he’s being too harsh on you. I’m gonna go tell him what a dick he is, making you cry.” He says as he starts to turn around. “No! Please, I appreciate it but it’ll just make it worse. I can’t mess up this job. I just need to do better.” You say, sniffling. “Really. It’s fine.”
Eddie sighs deeply, looking back over his shoulder before turning to face you again. “He needs to do better. You’re doing great.” Eddie says, fingers squeezing the exposed flesh of your arm. You smile, looking up at Eddie and admiring his features in the low light, an old beer neon sign casting shades of blue and red across his face. The tight hallway is made even tighter with boxes and extra chairs lining the walls. This close to Eddie you can smell the beer on his breath, the weed on his shirt and the Cherry Smoke by Tom Ford on his jacket. You smile, “Thanks..”
He nods softly, dimples returning as he matches your smile. His phone starts to vibrate, the opening notes of For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica ringing from it. He looks at it before silencing it and focusing back on you. “I gotta go but can I text you later? You can tell me all about why a sweet, beautiful girl like you needs a job at a shitty dive bar so bad.” He opens up a new iMessage and hands his phone to you. You type in your number and text “Eddie” to yourself.
He takes the phone back from you putting 🖤🍒 after your name. “If Harrington gives you anymore shit, you let me know, ok?” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smile and nod, all words leaving your brain. He laughs softly as he whispers how cute you are and he heads toward the door.
.
.
.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#modern!eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie x y/n#modern!eddie x reader
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That cliffhanger at the end of part two of new blood is definitely a gut wrenching one for sure. Will there be a part three? Hoping Ellie and the Reader can get away from Abby and the others and that Abby won't kill her sister. Your writing is so good.
new blood pt3
ellie williams x fem! reader
summary; abby finally finds you. measures have to be taken. paths will part ways. people will be left behind…
cw for this chapter; blood, weapons, chains, hostages, fighting, broken bones, threatening, mentions of abuse and imagery (abusive parent), angst angst angst!!!
You grunted due at the new punch that crushed your cheek and made your mouth fill up with warm blood. You spat and coughed, staining ellie’s shirt. You were as you had been found, naked legs trembling and bruising against the harsh cold floor.
You scoffed, a broken smirk showing on your face.
“Does it feel better? Does hurting me make it feel better? Gives you peace?”
“Shut up!” you groaned at the new kick on your stomach. “Where is he?” Abby inquired, and you smirked.
“You’re just like him, aren’t you?”
She gripped your hair. “Where. Is. He?”
“I don’t know.” you said, once again, like you had answered the last 20 times she has asked you.
“You’re lying.” she said and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Maybe. Are you gonna beat the words out of me? Like your father did?”
“He was your father too. How can you be helping the man that killed him?!”
“He was not my father!” you screamed, and she fell silent. “He destroyed me. Look at me.” her eyes where nowhere near you, avoiding your scars, the scars that her father branded on your skin. “Abigail! Look. At. Me.” you ordered, and smiled when she finally looked at you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you inquired, tugging at your restrains as you looked at your arms. “You know I almost died for this one?” you said, your eyes on the large gash on your forearm, which went through your skin and cut your veins. “He left me on the floor to die like some dog. I almost bled out. Thank god he hadn’t given me water for days and my blood was too dry or else I wouldn’t have made it.” you laughed, a broken laughter that made Abby’s arms grow on goosebumps. “And now look at you…” your eyes met her blue ones. “You’re doing the same exact thing. Just like two peas in a pot…”
“Shut the fuck up!” she yelled at you.
“Or what?” you inquired. “Or what?!” you repeated. Her friends were silently looking to the two of you, guarding the doors. Better not get into family discussions. They knew how Abby could get when pissed off. “You’re gonna kill me?” you teased her when she pushed off her belt her gun, pointing it at your head. “Go ahead. Follow his steps. Pull the trigger.“ you encouraged her, dragging your knees and crawling until the gun was fully pressed against your forehead. “Finish what your father started. Pull the trigger. Kill your sister.” she didn’t move. “Pull the fucking trigger Abigail!” a bullet broke the air, just like it did your skin. Your cheek flooded in crimson form the cut the bullet had left behind. It had graced you.
She looked into your eyes. And without a word stepped away. You laughed.
“You’re gonna leave me here?” you scoffed as you watched her go towards the door. “Gonna run away from me, Abigail?” you screamed, and she stopped, not facing you as she opened the door. “You need to stop running from the truth. The truth about your father being a fucking drunk, and the fact that he wasn’t a good man, Abby.” she stood there, silent, but still moved and closed the door behind her, leaving you in the darkness, like she had done before.
-
The floor was not comfortable, that’s for sure, but you’d grown used to it. You were the one who took the beatings and grew up sleeping on rags. You looked like your mother, or that’s what your father always told you before he’d beat the shit out of you. You didn’t know why. Why he hated her so much. Maybe cause she died and left him all along? Had the love he’s had for her made him bitter?
After years… You truly never thought about it anymore, although you’d catch yourself looking at your reflection and wondering what was that thing that made the two of you so alike. Was it your nose? Your hair? Your smile?
You groaned when you felt a pair of hands on you. “Fuck off Nora. I already told you everything I know…”
“Shhh…” the chains around your hands fell, and you opened your eyes to meet those emerald ones you’d found yourself growing attached to.
“Ellie…?” your voice came out as a whimper, your eyes feeling warm with tears.
“I’m here.” she whispered, holding you tightly to her chest when your hands reached out for her, nails digging on her clothes as you clung onto her. “I’m here baby, I’m here…” you sobbed against her lips as she kissed you, tears pricking your eyes. her hands cupped your cheeks, her guts burning at the sight of your beaten up pretty face and bloody appearance. She was gonna kill then all. “I’m gonna take you out of here.” she promised pecking your lips and you nodded, groaning when she shifted your body so she could take you in between her arms. Your whole body ache and burned. And she was sure you were running a fever. “I know baby, I know…” there were tears falling down your cheeks. You were sure you had a few broken ribs. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” she was so careful holding you, touching you… It was something you’ve never experienced before. It was breaking your heart.
“Where’s Abby?” you questioned, your arms surrounding her neck.
“Joel’s taking care of her.” your body froze and next thing Ellie knew is that you were fighting her hold to free yourself. “Woah, woah. What are you doing?”
“I need to see her…” you groaned when your feet touched the ground, your whole body shaking in pain. “Abby!” you called out for her, staggering as you walked.
She tried to stop you, but you followed Joel’s voice the best you could, creaking the door open to find Abby down on her knees, a deep cut gushing from her forehead.
“Stop.” you ordered when you saw him pointing his gun at her. Joel’s eyes shifted towards you as you fell down on your knees in front of your sister, shielding her with your body.
“Move out of the way, y/n.” Joel said, not moving, and Ellie took out her gun to point it at Joel.
“Joel put the gun down.” she said, and her heart cracked when he looked at her.
Tommy pointed the gun at Ellie. “Ellie. Don’t.” he said, and her hands shook.
“Please.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting her after all that she has done to you?” Joel inquired you, his shoulders tense, his aim on point.
“She’s my sister.” you simply answered, ignoring the way Abby looked at you. The way they all looked at you. “She’s the only family I have left.” “If you want her dead you’ll have to kill me first.”
Joel looked at you. They had the rest pinned to the ground or unconscious. They must have caught them off ward. Abby was smart and sharp, she must have been fast enough to fight. But not strong enough.
“y/n…” she called out for you, and you hissed.
“Shut up.” you said. “Joel… Let them go. This is your chance to change what you did all those years ago… You don’t need more blood on your hands.”
“They’d only come back after us.” he muttered, the gun pointing straight in between your eyes as she cocked it.
“Joel.” Ellie pleaded.
“I need to do this, Ellie. To keep you safe. To keep all of us safe.”
“They won’t. They will leave and never come back. You’ll never hear from them again.” you promised.
“And how do you know that?” your chest rose with a deep breath.
“Because I’ll go with them. You’ll never see us again. I’ll take them as far as I can and leave all of you alone.” you promised.
“No, y/n, you can’t...” you ignored Ellie’s hurt voice, her green emerald eyes. Because you knew that if you didn’t you’d never be able to leave. Everyone was looking at you. Sad eyes and clenched fists.
“I promise.” you repeated, looking into his eyes. It seemed like years have passed until he finally lowered his gun. And you could breath again.
“Get out of here.” he said and you nodded.
“Thank you.” you groaned as you pulled Abby up on her feet, swinging one of her arms over your shoulders as she was too dizzy to walk by herself. You tried really hard to hide your tears. You looked at Ellie, who was already looking at you, begging, pleading for you to not go.
“y/n…” she took your hand, holding onto you. You were freezing cold.
“I’m sorry…” you whispered as you let go of her touch. It was killing you. You looked away. “It’s for the best.”
And maybe it was. But what you’d never forget was the way your heart broke for leaving the person that made you feel loved for the first time in your life behind.
-
a/n; this was short but it was needed! hope y’all liked it! <3
#ellie williams x you#ellie the last of us#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams tlou#tlou ellie#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams#ellie williams x f! reader#ellie williams angst#ellie williams imagine#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou imagine#tlou fic#tlou smut#tlou fluff#tlou2#tlou x reader
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Aemond targaryen x targaryen reader: part 20
18+ smut
Aemond placed Y/n softly onto a chair as servants poured water into the bath, her hands refusing to let him leave her. Crouching by her he held her tightly, her head in his shoulder, he felt like a new man. All the anger dissipating as he held her, his heart filling his content, this is all he'd wanted. Her to want him, to need him as he felt he needed her. The servants rushing to leave, Aemond peeled her hands from him, her hands shaking as he did.
"No please don't leave me." She cried reaching for him. Pulling her to stand he slowly undressed her, pulling her into him as she sobbed.
"I won't leave you again my love." Whispering to her as he placed a kiss on her forehead, in his anger he hadn't noticed how much of Casmir's blood was on her, stained red from her knees down as well as her finger tips which still had some of his own on. He slowly lowered her into the bath, a hand on hers as he stripped himself. Climbing in next to her, Y/n turning into him to crawl into his lap, much like she would her mothers when she was a young child, seeking the warmth and comfort he could give her. His large body covering hers as he submerged them, their heads above water as he grabbed a cloth and began washing her. Kissing the bruises and small cuts along her arms and chest, kissing her palms as he scrubbed the blood from her nails.
"You are doing so well, so good for me." He whispered against her skin, wiping over her face, his heart broke as he looked in her eyes. The fire gone replaced by a deep sadness, he had truly broken her. He had wanted it so badly but now he wasn't sure, he hoped she would return to herself once she was fed and she drank but worried he had taken her too far. Y/n sadly smiled at him as she curled into his chest, her legs spreading to sit in his lap. Aemond kept her on his stomach, he couldn't help his reaction to her wet body against his. He felt himself hardening as she moved backwards until she rested her heat against him, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Please, i want you to love me." She spoke softly, pushing her breasts against him as she kissed his jaw, he wanted to be strong and tell her no. That she needed time to heal from her time in the cell.
"Need you so badly, need to feel protected." She continued, rubbing herself along him as she begged, tears in her eyes as she placed his hand on her hip.
"Love me." She said once more as she kissed him, Aemond cracked, lifting her slightly before letting her slip onto him. He moaned at the contact, finally feeling whole again as he rocked her, Y/n babbling the same words over and over.
"Please, need you, love me." She spoke against his mouth, his thrusts gentle, it felt like hours as they stayed there, Aemond praising her.
"Such a good girl for me, you're perfect, love you, love you so much." The two the most gentle they had been to each other, his hand in her hair as they kissed, barely parting to speak the same words. Her eyes looking at him with such innocent he couldn't bring himself to say anything else. As the water began to cool the two clung to each other, Aemond carrying them both out and onto the warm bed. Aemond praising her more as she came, the two not parting as they carried on.
"Love me please, never leave me." She spoke against him as she came a second time, Aemond never wanting it to end as he told her he loved her. All he ever wanted coming true, he wished to lock this moment away and live in it. Aemond and Y/n made love the sun came up, everytime he tried to pull from her trying to get her to rest she would wrap her legs around him and beg. As the sun rose Aemond slowed as he released once more, he didn't want to admit it but he was spent, he kept himself inside her as he rolled them to lay down. Her body on top of his as he kept her close.
"Promise you'll never leave me again." Y/n said as she started to sleep, Aemond promised her as he rested. His head laying on hers as they bathed in the sun.
broken and vulnerable aemond AND reader? How do we feel!
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond imagine#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond the kinslayer#aemond one eye#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen#aemond x you#aemond fanfiction#queen rhaenyra#hotd smut#daemon targeryan
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Midnight Cuddles pt. II
natasha romanoff × f!reader
platonic!nat x clint bc that’s just friendship goals
A/N: Part two was requested so why not make it! If you want me to keep adding parts to this, I will do my best to! I also should have requests open (not sure im kinda new to tumblr lol) so if you want to request a story or another part and what you wanna see in it, go ahead :)
Genre: fluff <333
Warnings: slight language
Summary: Reader is a new recruit to the Avengers, and everyone but one person seems to warm up to them, or that's what they think. Now, that person may become the Reader’s softie lover, but not without Clint’s teasing, of course.
ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
The next morning, you wake up alone on Natasha’s bed, beginning to remember the events of the night before. You are surrounded by your bear and her bunny, and assume that the redhead has gone off to training. To confirm your assumptions, you find a peanut butter sandwich, a cup of cooled down coffee, and a note on the bedside table.
You reach for the note and see something written on top of the note: ‘To my restless bear’
You smile as you open up the note and read:
‘Good Morning Sleepyhead,
I brought you breakfast, I hope the coffee isn’t too cold when you wake up. I am in the training room if you need anything.
Nat’
You couldn’t help but blush softly at the little note.
Just as you pick up the sandwich, the door opens and Natasha walks in sweaty from her workout.
“Oh! You’re still here?” She says suddenly.
“I just woke up,” you say, taking a bite of the sandwich, giving her a soft smile.
“Well Good Morning, detka”
“Hi” you say after swallowing a bite, “Thank you for breakfast!”
“Anything for you” She says, making you blush.
Before you can reply, the not-fully-closed door opens quickly, as Clint bursts in.
“Nat I-“ he turns his gaze to you, “Oh!”
“Uhh Clint, listen-“ Nat begins to explain but Clint cuts her off.
“I’m just offended I wasn’t told about this,” he slams his hand on his chest dramatically, “I thought were best friends, Nat!”
“Calm down it happened last night.”
“Ahh! Spare me the details!” He shields himself with his hands.
Nat flicks his head with her finger, “Not like that, you idiot. She had a nightmare.”
“Ouch! Okay! Okay!”
You watch them conversing and giggle while eating your sandwich.
“So what now, are we gunna have to bring Aunty Y/N/N to meet Laura and the kids, too?” he raises his eyebrow in question.
“We aren’t even official, yet! Slow. Down.” Nat lectures him.
“What? Can I not be excited that my lonely best friend is finally gotten her ass in a relationship?” He chuckles.
“We aren’t even officially dating, yet, Clint!!!”
You giggle, interrupting them, “Hey, Natty, do you wanna be my girlfriend?”
She gives you a playful glare, smiles, and quietly says, “yes,” then turns back to Clint, “I hate you, Clintosaurus.”
“Aww, I love you too, bestie!”
“How does Laura tolerate you?” Nat punches his arm playfully.
“The same way you do,” he laughs and starts walking out.
Nat rolls her eyes at him and walks towards you, hugging you while you are still sitting on the bed.
“So, how’s my girlfriend’s morning going?”
You try to push her off, playfully complaining, “Ahhh! Stop! You are sweaty!!! Go shower!”
“Only if you join me,” she smirks.
”We have been dating for about two minutes, you goof!” You laugh, grabbing her shirt and pulling her forward, pressing your lips together softly. “Go shower, and I’ll go get ready in my room. Maybe then you can take me out on a proper date first.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll come pick you up from your room in 20” she says, walking towards the bathroom, “bye babe!”
(≧◡≦) ♡
Pt. I
#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanova#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#clint x natasha#soft natasha romanoff#cute natty
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okay, i just woke up from a nap and the sight i had of chris was not leaving my brain, and i’m gonna make it everyone’s problem.
it was inspired by that video i saw of the cast of the la of one piece, where taz (sanji) was cooking for his cast members and his mannerism while cooking just inspired me to create this thought because it was mayhaps the most attractive thing a person, let alone a man, could do.
(yes my obsession with one piece has officially run so deep i am this 🤏 close to creating a new account for one piece i swear)
for reference; its the first few seconds of this clip, but really watch the whole video and tell me that that wasn’t hot
mdni !!!
picture a chill night with your boyfriend chan. you two were cuddly and all over each other, with emanating giggles and adorations. he just looked down at you while he lays sideways with a grin, “do you want anything to eat? i can order something if you want.”
you smiled at him, shyness rose within you just slightly, as you looked down before looking up at him, “actually, i was hoping maybe you could cook something, like you did a few weeks ago…”
and he looked at you like you were the most adorable creature to run on this earth, endearment just struck through him even further. not bearing to say no, he got up and held your hand to walk yourselves into the kitchen.
chan doesn’t always cook but when he does, he does it only on special occasions or for special people, and you are way greater than special to him. you haven’t seen him cook, but he always does it whenever you feel like having a warm homecooked meal in passing conversation before you come over, otherwise you two mostly stick to take outs.
he sat you down on the bar chair while you look him over across the island as he gathers his ingredients.
“do you have anything in mind?”
“anything you can manage to make…”
he smirks, “i know just the thing.”
and there he starts cooking. you two would talk while he focuses on creating his food, leaving you have most of the space while he does all the work. he would cut down the vegetables into the cutting board, one hand holding knife in a smooth way while the other holds the onion in a way where his fingers don’t get cut. his hands work fast and stoic, matching his eyes as he looks at them, but there would be times he would look up at you while you’re speaking, hands still moving, and his eyes quickly softens and smiles at you before looking down, going back to his concentrated face.
you’ve noticed that mannerism, and you couldn’t help but feel flustered at the sight. he wasn’t doing anything extra, he was just enjoying listen to you while he chops his vegetables, yet that caused you to feel warm within you. even while you carried on talking, you couldn’t help but cross your legs at the sight of chan’s veins in his hands protrudes even more due to the motion and force they’re putting through.
you gulped at the sight, and chan let out a hum, encouraging you to speak, “yeah, and then? why’d you pause?”
his soft voice sent sharp warmth down underneath your stomach, making you flustered even further but you still tried to remain calm and not attempt to pounce on chan while he’s innocently cooking you your meal.
once he was done searing everything and placed everything on the plate, he handed you the dish in a very smooth manner. that whole ordeal felt like years, but really took no more than 20 minutes. he just smiled at you as you looked down at your food in awe.
the presentation was done beautifully, and you were practically salivating over the sight—as if you weren’t earlier but over a different reason. you smiled at chan and complimented his work, all the while he looked at you with a smirk and holding your utensils in one hand.
he walked over to you, standing right behind you and leaned into your ear, his buff arm enclosing you, while your utensils was trapped underneath his large hands. you could feel his hot breath in your neck as he begins to whisper into your ear.
“i saw the way you were looking at me… you thought i couldn’t catch you staring?”
you gasped at his words while he chuckled. he lets go of the utensils, places the knife and fork in each side of your plate, before leaning back to your ears once again, and his words leaves shivers down your spine.
“when you finish eating, i want you to come to my room, so i could later have my meal done by you… don’t leave me hungry…”
…
yeah thanks a lot taz skylar for giving me this wild ass thought (wish had a good closing sentence thought—)
#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#stray kids smut#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz smut#bang chan hard thoughts#bang chan hard hours#bang chan smut
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Bob Velseb x GN Reader! No Filter.
Bob stalked you for a while and he was ready to make his first move on you but he didn't count for one thing...
AN: sorry the grossness, this is my first time writting something like this and posting it on tumblr
Also english is not my first language, so, sorry for mistakes
CW: Blood, Licking, Stalking and some gross things.
——————————————————————————————————
You woke up in your couch, it was night. slowly looking around feeling dizzy, you put your hand in your forehead trying to remember what you did that night before sleeping, you check your phone and it was 20:03, You quickly remember it's halloween and you fell asleep after coming back tired from work.
You receive a text from your friend LIla.
Lila: Hey (Y/N)! i was thinking about going trick or treating, you know, just for kicks and giggles, would you like to come? Jaune is going too!
You smile and decides to reply.
(Y/N): Sure thing! just wait a sec k?
Lila: Okay!
You get up from the couch and goes upstairs to take your work uniform off and change to a better outfit.
As you got dressed, you begin to feel unease, like there was someone watching you, you then walked towards the window and there was a tall and big figure behind the trees watching you with a creppy grin that almost covered their face.
Your eyes widen and you quickly ran down the stairs to check if theres any open windows around the house, luckly there were non, you sigh in relief but then there was a sound of glass breaking, coming from the living room.
you grab a cooking knife from your kitchen and quickly hides under your table. you can only see their legs, they walk closer to your direction, you cover your mouth but that was a useless move.
"Oh Darlin', I can smell your coconut lotion from a mile away~" The man said. he had a southern accent and a beautiful voice but to be honest he was breaking into your house and you couldn't think about it now.
"Shit, i should have used my favorite one." You said out loud, you quickly shut your mouth but accidentally cut your own cheek with your knife. "Fuck, that's gonna give me a infection." you said to yourself as you winced from the pain.
You hear the sound of a knife being pulled, so you quickly throw the table onto him. it worked well, when he was down you finally could see him.
"OH, YOU'RE THAT DEVIL GUY FROM THE NEWS!" You said to him as you ran upstairs.
You run over to your room, you close the door behind you and you start looking for your phone to call the police, you couldn't find it until you heard your door opening and seeing the devil guy holding your phone.
"Thank you, can you give me my phone? i need to call the cops." You said without a hesitation and he looks confused at you.
"If you want it so much, come get it~" The devil guy said as puts your phone his pocket.
"Ugh, What do you want anyways?" You ask as you pull your knife to defend yourself.
"Oh Darlin'~ that's a very intriguing question." He said as he got closer to you, you pointed your knife to his neck, he grabbed your arm, you tried cutting his neck but he pulls your knife away and threw it on the ground.
you went for his knife but it wasn't in his hands, you up to him, he was still with that creepy smile.
"And the answer is you~" He holds your body tightly.
"W-where is your knife?" You ask to the devil man, stuttering. he slowly holds your face, you tried pulling it away but it was useless.
"HEY HEY HEY-" he begins to bite your shoulder, you wince, trying to pull him away but he keeps going. He licks the blood from your cheek, as he keeps doing it, your cheeks warm up weirdly.
"That's gross." You say and he chuckles. he pulls away and keeps staring at you as he licks his lips. he feels something grabbing his mask, before he could look, (Y/N) pulls his mask away and finally gets to see his face, he was very attractive man, you couldn't help yourself to say that straight to his face.
"Wow, you're hot." (Y/N) says as they look to the man, which had a confused look on.
"What?" He asks, still holding you.
"I said you're hot." (Y/N) said and the man frowns.
"Why aren't ya' scared?!" His accent got thicker, his cheeks began to blush, he keeps asking himself what he did wrong? why didn't he scare you?
"I mean, honestly, someone with a face like that wouldn't make me scared, it would make me feel other things." (Y/N) said as they blushed as well, He got furious and quickly pushed you away.
"What is wrong with you?" The man asked.
"I'm the one who needs to ask you that, you're a serial killer, you broke into my house and tried to make a move on me without even inviting me for dinner." (Y/N) said, the man took a few steps back.
"If you keep acting like this, i am gonna have you for dinner." He grabs his mask back, he grabs your phone from his pockets and throws it into your bed, he walks towards the window.
"I don't know, i don't think i would taste very good." You scratch your head.
"What is your name anyway?" You ask as he gets ready to leave. he looks at you, still frustrated.
"Bob Velseb." He stares at you.
"I'm (Y/N)." You said to him.
"I know that, i know a lot about you." Bob jumps from the window, you run towards it and he is no longer to be seen. you sigh in relief, that worked really well, playing with his feelings until he leaves.
you close the window and grabs your phone, only to see a text from Lila.
LIla: Are you okay?
(Y/N): Yeah yeah just a little thing that happened but wait for me
Before leaving, you wash your face, you put a band-aid on your cheek, you barricade your windows and then walk out of the house towards Lila's.
Bob kept watching you from the distance, he got obsessed with you ever since he laid eyes on you, and now he finally saw that you're just as weird, so he began to think about you a lot more and more.
#spooky month#spooky month bob#bob velseb#bob velseb x reader#bob velseb x oc#bob velseb x you#bob velseb x y/n#bob velseb spooky month#spooky month x reader#spooky month x you#bob velseb x gn reader
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dragoon theorycrafting: FRESH DRAGOON LORE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN SIX YEARS (new Rising story)
SIX YEARS.
FINALLY WE ARE GIVEN A NUGGET OF DRAGOON LORE.
(I'm counting the Stormblood side story in this yes)
HERE HAVE MY STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS UNDER THE CUT
-----------
So where to begin? First off, we're setting Estinien to the side and the fact he's drinking off to the side as well. We'll get back to it, don't worry.
MOTHERFUCKING HALDRATH MAKES A GODDAMN APPEARANCE! AND WE ALSO GET A NEW DOT ON THE OVERALL TIMELINE!
Ratatoskr's death is in 545. Twenty years later puts this in 565, which means Haldrath has been witness to the gross rewriting of history that's taken place in Corethas.
(also shoutout to @mariyekos and their Haldrath -> Estinien theory let's gooo~~)
So the first Azure Dragoon's shown up, and he is not in a good way. Nidhogg's Eye (the first) has fused itself to his armor, and is now effectively corrupting Haldrath's flesh. He's beginning to have fits more frequently and intensely --moments where Nidhogg's will threatens to override his own. Haldrath has been a solitary hunter of dragons for twenty years, and he is fucking tired. His will is starting to falter.
He passes out from fighting another dragon, and wakes up a while later to find himself in a tavern. And much to his surprise and pleasure, he's among friends-- one of the original Twelve knights who survived and (wisely, I might add), fucked off once Nidhogg was robbed of his original eyes.
Ser Aureniquart de Cordillelot, who decided to open a tavern, and is insinuated in lore to have been the founder of the Forgotten Knight. It's his daughter Berteline who found Haldrath, and she's been raised on stories of him as the dragonslayer. She wishes to be a dragoon like him too!
Berteline however, admits that she didn't find Haldrath on her own, that a voice that sounded like 'storm winds' led her to him. Haldrath, who has recognized that Berteline has drive and passion, realizes that the young woman's been lured by Nidhogg's eye.
(And here is when we enter the territory of fuckery)
At this point, Haldrath makes a choice. He's doing this on the fly, but also probably had been stewing on his thoughts for a while. He's tired. On his last legs. This is probably not how he wanted to do it, but he's got no choice. And Halone seems to have merciful enough to let him be in a safe and warm environment among friends.
Haldrath tells Berteline that she's heard Nidhogg's voice, that the Eye seeks out those who desire power. That it's fused to him, that it's corrupting him, and he is in danger of becoming the elder wrym's thrall. And if that happens, he will be a mighty threat to Ishgard, which is still finding its feet. He looks Aureniquart in the eye and asks that his old friend, his brother knight, kill him before that happens.
Aureniquart refuses to pick up arms against Haldrath.
(side note: I'm wondering if Aureniquart was possibly Haldrath's First Knight/general 2IC.)
Haldrath, before the Eye tries for the final time to take him, also officially recognizes Berteline as the new bearer of the evil orb and names her his full successor.
Berteline de Cordillelot is now charged as the second Azure Dragoon. We won't have another named Azure Dragoon show up until 761, when Valeroyant fends off Nidhogg. (Valeroyant dies two years later in 763).
We are also given confirmation that Azure Dragoons essentially are on a limited lifespan once they receive the Eye. This possibly gives new meaning to this:
When searched on Google, score is equal to twenty years. Two score and ten equals 50 years. Ere means 'before'.
Basically? 'Your ass will be dead before you turn fifty.'
Which in the story, makes sense because:
Aureniquart has aged. It's possible that by this time, he and Haldrath were in their mid-40s, if they were in their 20's back in 545.
Becoming the Azure Dragoon is a death sentence. And now your mileage is gonna vary, because not everyone's gonna have the same mindset regarding power and duty and protection of Ishgard. We have the door open for some high level shenanigary here! An Azure Dragoon who may not have wanted to pick a successor? An Azure Dragoon who might have been forced into the job?
(No no we're not discussing Alberic don't @ me I'm typing this out on my phone and it's taking me forever WE WILL POKE AT HIM LATER)
Anyroad.
Haldrath feels one final fit coming on, and knows this is the one that he can't fight against. Nidhogg will claim him. He needs to die. He realizes almost too late that Aureniquart can't kill him, because of the bond of love/friendship/battle blood/loyalty to my liege and he's cursing him to suffer another sin. But Berteline steps up to the plate, puts her hands on the spear, and helps her father perform the mercy kill.
Shoutout to @autumnslance for this spot on commentary on THAT:
Aureniquart: Perma-traumatized now. Man gets like twenty years of peace and then it just gets blown outta the water. Had to kill your leige-lord as he lay dying on your floor, under your roof, violation of sanctuary and hospitality and your sworn oath to protect him, to spend your life before his own so he could be safe...
What?
Anyroad. We have one final interesting tidbit.
This...is interesting. Sovereignty has various meanings, but the one that stood out the most to me from Merriam-Webster was 'freedom from external control'. There was also 'supreme power over a body politic', 'controlling influence' and then 'one who is sovereign, especially: an autonomous state'
It's said in lore Nidhogg was dismissive of mankind. And at that point can you blame him? He's lost three siblings to Allag, his other brother's lost his damn mind mooning over some elezen before consensually participating in voreplay, and his sister drank ALL the mortal Kool-Aid.
Oh and baby brother? Is hiding somewhere.
That also possibly has Ascian fuckery hiding somewhere in the depths. What exactly, I don't know what to say or imply. But a good friend of mine pointed out that Nidhogg's attitude towards humans could have been a rather toxic ingredient that could have maybe been added to a growing resentment of dragonkind that had been festering. Maybe old grudges that had been settled by Shiva's sacrifice were coming back from the dead. Maybe mankind was growing too much in the region and was straining natural resources.
We don't know.
Last but not least, Estinien. Nevermind that this man decided to hit up a bottle of Raz-at-Han alchemist-made liquor.
Estinien. Pls.
However there is real world historical context for alcoholic spirits being used to help a body and mind relax so that one can see visions/perform magic. And as I stated one time, we don't know fully about all the changes Estinien has undergone ever since absorbing the remnants of Nidhogg's essence. This could be a random fluke--brought on by unpredictable draconic magic mixing with whatever unholy abomination against the gods concoction this particular Hannish alchemist thought to brew.
(listen Raz-at-Han alchemists fear neither gods, nor man, nor dragons, nor aliens. YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT)
But it's definitely interesting to see more of a solid connection between the first and the last Azure Dragoon. Especially since Haldrath hasn't shown up in anything dragoon connected since the level 50 questline, in which he helps you violently snap Estinien out of a Nidhogg-induced frenzy.
Hoping this story leads us to more dragoon stuff, especially considering the class is getting a revamp in 7.0!
#ffxiv#ffxiv dragoon#ffxiv drg#estinien varlineau#prince haldrath#the rising#this took me ages to type out on my phone and im fairly certain i missed a few things but ah well#DRAGOON LORE#six years. six years SE#ffxiv theorycraft#behold i am back on my bullshit
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So I haven't watched Spy Kids for probably 20 years? It came out in 2001, I never saw in theatres, but my stepbrother had it on VHS. I remember watching it several times when my step-mum and father first started dating but never after they moved into a house together, which I think cannot have been any later than 2003. The podcast How Did This Get Made just got me to watch 2004's Sleepover staring Spy Kids' Alex Vega, and it had me going 'man, I should rewatch Spy Kids, a film I used to love—hell I should watch all the Spy Kids movies because I've only ever seen the first and Robert Rodriguez is a director whose work I want to dive into' and since its 2023, with a little bit of effort I can easily do that. (Also, I always thought, based on a vague knowledge of their similar poster design, that Spy Kids 3D and The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl were the same movie, but apparently not! Also, Sharkboy et al. had a 2021 sequel? That was popular? And is getting its own sequel? Will have to investigate.)
Thoughts on the opening ten minutes of my Spy Kids rewatch:
This production logo is so ugly it causes me physical pain. I hate this boy with his Kate Moss arms (Miraculous Ladybug arms, for you youngsters out there), his ugly beanie, and unbearable smirk.
Also, the telecine weave on the production logos is very noticeable, they're bouncing all over the place and it got me idly musing as to when more modern image stabilization techniques simply took that away. Not that we really noticed in 2001 because even with auto-tracking, gate-weave and other playback artifacts were just accepted as a given on your eight hundred pound convex CRT TV with 480 Ps of resolution that output enough radiation to kill grandma with a Jeopardy marathon.
Do young people know about VHS tracking, auto or otherwise? Does the above paragraph make any sense to them at all? Do they know the pleasures of laying your hand on a still-warm television screen and having your whole body shiver as the static discharge runs through your unresistant flesh? Kids today with their big pants and their blue-tooth hula-hoops and their fancy PSPs just can't understand.
The opening shot of the movie is so under-exposed (or, more likely, over-exposed and then over-corrected in post) that Rodiguez's 'written and directed' credit is unreadable. You can see its blur to the right of the red 'FILM' there. It's so bad I thought there was something wrong with my copy so I... uh... found a new copy with a larger file size and it turns out that, nope, it actually just looks like that. Even in fancy 1080p this is just a terrible ærial shot. There's some fantastic shots and cuts in this film so to open with such a stinker is bizarre. Was it bad coverage that day, only one good shot in the can, did somebody fuck-up the film in the lab? I am curious.
Carla Gugino is so cute in this movie it's criminal. Not to be a lesbian but oh my god oh my fucking god. 12 year-old me was all about Carmen but adult me just wants 90 straight minutes of Carla Gugino in casualwear wandering around her lovely home smiling coyly. I would buy a BluRay player to own that movie on BluRay. I'd not picked-up that she played the mom on The Haunting of Hill House because she had long styled hair instead of this absolutely flawless textured pixie cut.
10/10, no notes.
I would like to spend an hour talking about the incredible tilework in that bathroom and nothing but the incredible tilework in that bathroom. I will update you if the film has any further shots of the incredible tilework in that bathroom but I fear it does not.
As as an aside, kind of furious that this film was not more influential in the field of home decor. Two decades of effing shiplap and cold grey suburban blandness—what if we'd given up on bloated cookie cutter micro-mcmansion shitboxes and instead gone all-in on brightly coloured Andalusian rough plaster and stonework? What if we all had great tilework in our bathrooms, like the kitchen sink in Howl's Moving Castle?
You know what I mean, you depraved tile nerds.
I don't want you to think Antonio Banderas is not also a total smokeshow in this movie.
Because boy howdy.
He's a goddamn hunk.
There's a four-second long shot of Banderas flicking this ring box along the coping of the Eiffel Tower balustrade, and all I can think of how hard it was to get to get that box to stay in a straight line, how completely frictionless the box must be (did he shellac it?), and if his marriage prospects would have been ruined had it—in all rational likelihood—gone flying off the railing and smashed into the Champs de Mars.
You know you're in for a rollicking good time when the helicopter perfectly slices-off the stone heads of the two statues, but it's the padre giving the benediction while attack choppers go roaring over head that gives you chills.
A particular shout-out to this lovely unnamed bridesmaid on the left here who not only takes 'putting a parachute on the bride' in stride but looks gleeful and fabulous doing it. Where's her movie?
In 2001 we really thought computers were going to be cool and fun instead of machines that sold our personal lives to corporations and gave children crippling anxiety disorders.
Carla Gugino has a track built into the floor so that her vanity-computer chair can slide backwards across the room so she can have face-to-face chats with her husband. From this we learn two things: 1) she does this so often she's automated it for maximum efficiency, and 2) Banderos, in an ordinary desk chair, never attempts (or knows better than to attempt?) the reverse.
To be continued?
#spy kids#spy kids rewatch#antonio banderas#carla gugino#robert rodriguez#alexa vega#shiplap#interior design#andalusia#tile work#howl's moving castle#miraculous ladybug#telecine#films#weddings#spies#kate moss
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