#I guess what really sticks out in my mind is a line from a single infinity comic which stuck with me from my Spidey read-through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fillinforlater · 5 months

Text

Eleven to One: Scandalous Shooting

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 3140 words

Tags: quickie sex, semi-public sex, might get caught, sex toys, toy use in public, a tiny bit of feet kink/admiration, standing sex, from behind, hard sex, very wet, very close to squirting, very close to losing your career, megalomaniac!you

TW: semi-public sex, I guess lol

Inspiration: the GIF below. Pure sex.

Credt: @sooyadelicacies, my wonderful co-writer in this series. You can find more parts here!

(A/N: After almost three weeks, I'm finally back! Eleven to One is far from being over, view this as sort of an interlude with a big plot point and some nice, good fun with our hot af Ahn Yujin. Enjoy!)

“Excited for my new shoot? Yujin has sent a video.”

"Fuck you dumb bitch, suck it just like that."

Your cock was currently slamming the throat of a gagging Kim Chaewon for what could be between one minute and one hour, anything in between really, but either way, her salvation has just arrived. You pull out of her huffing and puffing mouth and with no further thought wasted on the training session, you prepare to leave.

"What? Where are you going asshole?" Chaewon shouts, baffled, furious, most importantly baffled when you instantly have your hands around her neck and glare down at her, petite and small, kneeling on the floor, one could almost mistake her for a good girl. Chaewon is not yet there though.

"My desire and cock is needed elsewhere. You're not a priority, only a cheap convenience. Yujin is demanding my attention, rather, I demand her body right now."

Chaewon's face further contorts to a scowl, as you expected. There is the spirit to fight, fight back, fight you, fight whoever opposes her. This spirit is slowly but surely bending to your will and the best part about it: Chaewon has no clue.

"I'm better than she is..."

Left to right, you cross her messed up face with your cock and scoff at how pitifully desperate her expression is. A little fingering with Minju, a quick blowjob, a facefuck, and she is already demanding you to stay; over your beloved girlfriend, mind you.

"Don't kid yourself, Chaewon." You get your hand in her hair, comb it then mess it up again. "You are so far behind, it's not even funny to compare yourself to her. Like I said: not a priority.

"Minmin, I need you to tie her up. Chaewon's been bad again."

"Yes Daddy!" Minju says naked before you, she is always in the next room, ready to adhere to your commands with glee and joy, even as she puts ropes around her friends ankles and wrists.

"Oh and Minju,” you add, pants not yet around your waist. “How about you suck me off and I'll blast it all over Chaewon's face before I leave. If you are fast, I’ll allow you to lick it off of her too."

Minju’s eyes brighten and she nods furiously. Soon she’ll nod on your cock.

It always fascinates you how easy it is to get into certain areas as long as you look determined and wear the appropriate attire. You dart into the building where Yujin currently still had her shooting for the 1000th magazine her stunning face will be featured on.

Is this an issue for you? No. Yujin is yours, ready to go the extra mile for you every single day. She accepts your craziest desires, the family of lustful friends around the two of you, hell, she risks her entire hard earned career and reputation for you. No reason to mistrust her or be envious because people get to see her face or shoulder or feet—

Okay, this is where you draw the line. Yujin just looks too good; her curvy, willing body on the drawer, hair done to tempting perfection, gaze full of sex and then she sticks her bare feet out. You have to stop it, though it's already on camera, they can’t have more of that.

Behind a group of staff members you come to a halt. Get on your toes and look over their heads to find Yujin, in talks with the director. You hear whispers about some reshoots, Yujin handles the small, direct criticisms like a professional. Of course your eyes also drop from her face to her hips, then even lower to her feet, which are currently hidden in two ugly slippers.

Blending in with the crowd, you make a mental note to speed up plans for your next merger, which is right around the corner, only some stupid, posh guys in suits hesitating, because they don’t want to lose face to Hyewon’s non-nonsense negotiation tactics. After this final chess move, there is no more sneaking around after that. It's a checkmate for any and every doubt. Nothing can stop your fantasies from coming true.

You wait for Yujin to notice you, but then grow impatient. Tapping on your pants pocket, you push a button and notice from a distance a twitch of pleasure on her face as she quickly scans the room to find you.

Perfect, she still has it on her. Whenever Yujin goes out, she has the option to take a small bullet vibrator from her purse and use it to relieve some stress or make a boring schedule more fun. The vibrator is connected with both your and her phone, so you can always test if she knows that you are nearby—and also have your way with her, of course.

Yujin’s libido is great enough for such a bold move and of course she has found you immediately, but instead of going straight towards you, she continues her duty. After all, the reshoots have to continue.

"This scene right here, on top of the drawer," the director says. Yujin gets into position, and thank God she kicks off the slippers.

You lick your lips a little before turning into a scowl. You push the button again, only this time on a higher setting. If you arrived, you were the top priority, not some wannabe director having his eyes look at the most sex-oozing woman to ever walk on this earth. Watching Yujin squirm, you decide to pull out your phone and make a call. The call.

"Hyewon, plans have changed. I want the merger motion to go forward right now. I'm done waiting."

"Yes, Master!"

You only had to wait as you watched Yujin continue to try and control herself under the power of the toy inside her. As the minutes and poses went on, it became harder for her to withstand the buzzing pleasure, though the constant background noise has everyone except you blissfully unaware of the vibrators presence. You have to admit, waiting is the thing you hate the most in this world, but with Yujin on the edge, in public, right before your eyes, it’s more than bearable.

"Miss Ahn, is everything okay?" the cameraman asks, worried and puzzled by Yujin's expressions and the increasing redness on her cheek.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm gu-ud. Should I try a different pose?"

"How about you put your legs up on it, like you did earlier?" the director suggests.

When it comes to poses, magazine shoots, and being in front of the camera in general, Yujin is a goddess in every aspect. Cute, thrilling, hot, seductive, cool, she can do it all—and today she decided to give the people what they want.

This tease cannot go unpunished. You continue to let the vibrator do its thing on a low setting to not elicit any unwanted moans and just wet her crotch more and more. It might not be noticeable on the black dress, but she is about to soak it, let her juices run down her legs and pool at her marvelous feet. You are insatiable, not even stopping when she looks at you with begging puppy eyes—

Yujin is at your mercy; only you can get her out of this.

A message from Hyewon lights up your phone. It is done, Master. Well spoken, she must have really pushed those otherwise tenacious executives around hard to get it done this quickly. Smiling, you decide to make your presence known, startling the crew.

"Mr. Director, you should be getting a phone call any moment now, I'm here to supervise the rest of this shoot. You're all doing wonderful, but I want to make sure Yujin's health is prioritized. Could we go for a lunch break now?"

"Sir, who are you—" The shrill ring of his phone interrupts the bewildered director, though his bewilderment only increases with every second the phone call continues. He hastily runs from set to set, gathering staff members, phone still pressed to his cheek.

"What have you done now?" Yujin snarls, her body not on the drawer anymore, unstable next to you. She grabs your suit, but elect to You ignore her and watch the staff flock out, the directors face full with sweat, an apologetic gesture towards you.

"So-sorry, Sir, we of course take the health of the idols very seriously. I didn't know you were managing her."

"It's alright," you say reassuringly, hand in a pocket, and in the thrill of the moment, you push the vibrator to the strongest setting. "Are you~ alright, Miss Ahn?"

Yujin cries out, her shriek startling the director. He tries to react quickly, but you put on your sternest, most serious face, really, the feat of a great actor, though that is par for the course in your business.

"Lets not waste any time. Mr. Director .I'll need everybody off the set. I'd rather not have anyone see Miss Ahn like this. Thanks for your understanding."

"I-I, of course, I'll—"

The director throws his hands in the air. His face is pale, he is unsure where to run, left, right; he needs time to catch himself and find the exit as does everyone else. He closes the door with an apologetic bow and you can hear him shout in panic and frustration.

"How the hell did you do that?" Yujin mumbles, her hands on your side to keep herself upright. Look down to find her legs drenched in her own juices, the dress ruined, her hair in a wild mane.

You lick your lips.

"Oh baby girl, you're mine now. I had Hyewon seal the deal. I bought your company, which means, personally and professionally, every part of you belongs to me."

Yujin's puppy eyes have never been bigger—except for maybe the time you first penetrated her tight pussy—though this time you find it hard to make out any clear thought she might have; is it pure bewilderment at the boldness and timing of your move? Is it anger because you purposefully got her into trouble, took things too far, just because you could? Or is it—

"Now what?" Yujin grits her teeth and looks to the wet floor. "This was too risky! Reporters will ask questions, some are going to spy on you, rumors will spread—they will find it out! You can't hide this forever."

You gently rake your hand through Yujin's raven hair and watch her toes tense up. Her entire body radiates tension, stress, like she can see everything crumble. The future looks bleak, nothing but darkness. The ‘young you’ can relate strongly, the bottom is usually dark—but as long as you fight, you'll reach the light. Even in the poorest of areas, someone is able to reach for the stars and create a better place for himself, his family.

A better place, even better than what you believed was already perfect.

"Trust me, Yujin," you coo to her and gently pull her hair back to look down at that concerned face of a beautiful goddess. "This is going to lead to moments greater than you could've ever dreamed of."

She looks at you with a swirl of conflicted emotions, but you don't let her dwell on it for too long as you move in to kiss her, prodding your tongue into her mouth too. You subtly position your left hand's fingers near her wet snatch.

"We don't have—"

"—a lot of time," the two of you whisper simultaneously. It's teamwork, alright, how she finishes your sentence with her needy voice, how you hike up her dress while she fiddles with your zipper, how you both find a bit of cover in the far corner of the room. If someone were to come in, you'd at least not be seen, but by the way Yujin squirms when you pull at the cord of the oval vibrator, her voice will make the situation blatantly obvious, even for a blind person.

"You need to stay quiet," you growl in Yujin's neck while you still try to get the plug out of her tight cunt. "This is some serious business, don't disappoint me. Do it like you did last year, on the red carpet.

"Why the fuck—"

The vibrator is still stuck inside her, the walls of Yujin's pussy clamp around it, not ready to let go of the pleasure the constant vibration brings. If it wasn't for your arm around her waist, Yujin would've dropped to the floor already. She is unable to resist it, it's deep inside her, it's snuck and comfortable.

A conflict for you, for her: Can you really let her cum just like this again? It would not be the great, immediate release for your cock you were looking for, but the humiliation, Yujin's embarrassment would make you ascend to a new level of all-powerfulness. It's the same for her, just the other way around. It seems that she has made up her mind before you though:

"Daddy please, you-you need to leave… let me finish the shoot and—"

But you keep kissing her neck.

"Baby girl," you growl. "Either you cum on my cock after I pound your tight little pussy or I turn that toy in you on maximum for the rest of the day. You'll squirt like a fucking fountain, make a mess and then what? What will the headlines say then?"

"Daddy, please! At home… I'll do whatever you want, just not here."

"You know it already don't you, baby girl? I'm your salvation—my cock is your salvation—with it inside your walls, it will keep your cum from spilling out and save you from becoming breaking news."

This much convincing, with Yujin convulsing, is really confusing, but in the end, she is unable to conceal her desire for you to plug her. Her neediness is an issue and your neediness is the solution.

There is no need or time for a blowjob, you are ready to enter right away, so you grab as much of the black dress as you can and pull it up. Yujin's help would be appreciated, but the horny thing can barely stand on her own, both her hands on your back to find security.

"You're the prettiest when you are this needy, baby girl," you tell her as her large, watery eyes are unable to look anywhere but you. A couple of tears spill over, then down her cheeks when she finally presses out the vibrator from her pussy. "Get your leg up here, on this couch."

The angle is perfect, your throbbing cock aligned—you still need to dive in her delicious full lips with that strawberry flavor to deafen her moans. The dive was almost too late, the draw of her cunt is too strong for your manhood to resist, and of course you fill her fully.

"God, you're so tight, you're always tighter when you're so needy.” Your words come pouring out when you disconnect your lips from hers; it’s like disconnecting from the world and ascending to a place of unknown, unbound, unending power. “I get it now. These shoots, these long and stressful hours. You're so hard working baby girl, but now we can fuck anytime. Isn't that a good thing?"

You thrust harshly and stroke Yujin’s pretty hair. Anytime, anywhere, it all doesn’t matter anymore. What it matters is you in her, above her, all over her. This is what your love is "Tell Daddy how it feels."

"Y-you're so greedy," Yujin huffs out, even after years of almost daily pussy pounding she is unable to control her breathing during sex. "Where, fuck, where will this end?"

"Answer my question, baby. And keep your moans down. I might make you cum, erupt like a pent up volcano. I can already feel the tsunami building up. Admit that you want me this greedy, because nothing can satisfy—"

"Fuck, okay, okay." Yujin grabs the sleeve of your suit with one hand and your nape with the other. "Daddy, own me. My entire life, my career, my social circle—take it." Her eyes are daggers, then a concoction of bliss, devotion and insurmountable expectations. "Take re-responsibility, and I'll be the best baby girl ever."

"You'll be that either way."

Slam her against one of these many thin, unstable decorative background walls, watch it sway dangerously backwards, but fuck her with the same recklessness as before. Yujin's teeth dig into her lower lip, her body losing all it's grip, except for the grip of her cunt, which you have fucked from every angle, sure, but standing has her the tightest. At least, you believe it right now—maybe it's the setting, the chance to get caught, the career ending thrill.

"I'm your good girl, good girl, Daddy, I—"

"Go on and cum. My cock will save you."

A fleeting moment, a moment of silence, no movement, as if time itself freezes. A moment where Yujin truly is powerless, where she can't just walk out and break up with you or throw everything away and live a different life. She is about to scream her orgasm out, and with her arms uselessly hanging on the sides of her convulsing, climaxing, prime body, nothing but you can stop her from getting caught.

And she submits herself to it, the scream never making it to anyone as you silence her with a strong palm on her luscious lips. Yujin shakes and shakes, only hints of juices making their way past your shaft, your base. She is plugged and both her legs and dress are saved—at least from being ruined entirely.

The orgasm continues in waves. Yujin's eyes water, her moans echo back, her knees melt like ice cream in the summer—she has to admit, she is waiting for your cream inside her, though it never comes.

"Good girl," you coo to her and start fixing her hair while still balls deep in her cunt. "I have some spare panties for you. Don't worry, I soaked them in some perfume, they won't smell anything. Remember, Daddy is right here. Just follow my lead."

"Y-yes." Out of breath is an understatement. You suffocated the poor girl to the point of exhaustion. Maybe that is the point, to make her look exhausted, weak, hell, she can barely walk. You support her, watch her put on the panties, swipe away some messed up makeup that would look too wild, too suspicious.

"Hook your arm underneath mine," you tell her. "I'll tell them your ankle is hurt, that we'll go to a doctor, something like that."

"Daddy, why do you go through such lengths for, for this?"

You grin and look down at your girlfriend, mere moments before the photography director comes rushing back onto the set.

"Why are you so tight whenever we might get caught doing this?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #ive smut #male reader smut #yujin smut #ahn yujin smut

994 notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 1 year

Text

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

*NOT Mature, SFW — incorrectly flagged

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After almost losing you in a scare related to your preterm labor, Eddie is reluctant to meet his newborn son, whose life still remains on the line, until some convincing from you. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: congrats on making it to part two! we still have quite a bit of angst to get through but we're almost through the storm! this part (even though i wrote Wayne's World as a whole) was my favorite to write, and i'm sure you'll be able to guess why. word count is 6k. good luck and happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

Hours passed by, Penny had fallen asleep in his lap again and so had most of his friends with the exceptions of Jonathan who looked like he could really use the sleep, Eden and Wayne. Steve would snap awake every once and a while, careful not to jostle his sleeping girlfriend. Nancy was asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder while Argyle used Eden’s lap for a pillow. Barb and Robin were hanging off chairs in the most uncomfortable looking positions, Robin’s snores almost painful sounding. The ‘kids’ (teenagers) had been picked up by their parents, only agreeing to go home if they could come back to wait with him first thing in the morning.

Eddie didn’t rest for a single second, mind torturing him with horrible, horrible thoughts. One played in his mind on loop; he was holding Penny as he walked out of the hospital. They were on their own.

It held him captive, he hadn’t even noticed your doctor approaching him until she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Munson?”

Wayne and Eddie traded quick glances and he handed Penny over, trying not to disturb her too much in his rush but she just curled up to Wayne.

Eddie stood up, already feeling lightheaded. That voice in his head that had been torturing him whispered something cruel to him, enough to make him want to cease existing: maybe you, somewhere in this hospital, already gone and he didn’t know it. Was she about to confirm his worst fears?

“I apologize for the fright we gave you. Your wife started hemorrhaging and she lost a lot of blood.”

Yeah. Eddie’s world was ending. It was over.

“But we were able to stop the bleeding and get her a transfusion. She’s stable and she’s going to be just fine.”

The relief was almost crippling, the heaviest weight he’d ever felt on him was lifted. Eddie wanted to cry, he squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to compose himself before he broke down in front of another doctor.

“We have her in a room, probably hold her for a couple of nights, depending on her recovery. Would you like to go see her?”

“Yeah, yes, please.” He nodded rapidly, wiping furiously at his eyes.

Dr. Eisenberg nodded and began walking down the hall, “If you’ll follow me.”

Eddie turned, ready to ask Wayne to look after Penny when Wayne cut him off, “Go. I'll let ‘em all know she’s okay and send ‘em home. They probably won’t be able to see her tonight or in the mornin’, but I’ll stick around. Let me know when I can come on up.”

Eddie wanted to hug him, but he really needed to see you.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything.” Then he was scrambling after Dr. Eisenberg, who had stopped to wait for him.

The walk to your hospital room had Eddie ready to tear his hair out, he’d wanted to just ask your doctor for your room number so he could sprint the rest of the way because her pace was much too slow. He was desperate to get to you, to make sure you were really still alive.

“Here we are,” she stated, pushing your room door open. “Hello, again, Mrs. Munson. I brought someone who’s been waiting for you.”

Eddie’s breath hitched as Dr. Eisenberg stepped to the side and he finally saw you, eyelids heavy from whatever sedation you were still trying to pull yourself from, and a smile on your face that only widened when you locked eyes.

“Hi, baby,” you slurred, sleepy little smile not going anywhere. And neither were you.

The rush of emotions he was experiencing was too much, he burst into tears where he stood as Dr. Eisenberg closed the door behind her on her way out.

“Eddie…” you mumbled out, reaching the hand lacking an IV out to him.

Of course you were trying to comfort him, you were the one confined to a hospital bed, having just barely survived a traumatic birth and you were still trying to comfort him because you were perfect.

He slowly approached your bed, hot tears—he was surprised his body could even still produce more tears given how much he’d cried in the last few hours alone—streaming down his cheek. Eddie really did collapse when he reached you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him to your chest as best as you could, though you had no idea why he was crying, brain too hazy.

Eddie didn’t sob, just silently shook as he wet your neck, inhaled your scent, felt your warm skin and pulse beating beneath his lips. He hadn’t lost you, you were still here.

Ideally, he’d be holding you and squeezing you hard enough to ensure you’d never leave his arms again, but even in his emotional hysteria, he was mindful of your condition.

Eddie pulled away, large hands framing your face as he pressed desperate kisses all over your face, making sure every inch was caressed with his love before he focused on your lips, mouth meshing messily against yours.

You could taste the salt of his tears, feel a couple of stray ones catching where your lips met. While he may have been feeling a mixture of emotions, all you could feel right then was content and still a bit sleepy from the anesthesia.

When Eddie felt he’d conveyed his love for you sufficiently, he pulled away, a wet and hoarse chuckle escaping him when he realized you could barely keep your eyes open.

“You sleepy, baby?”

“Mhmm.”

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” Eddie’s thumb stroked over your bottom lip before resting over the center of it, “just, please wake up.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, eyes already shut. Still, you managed to press a kiss to his thumb before you slipped into a blissful slumber.

While you slept, Eddie had one of the nurses phone up the waiting room and sent Wayne. The poor man looked exhausted, but the relief on his face was evident when he saw you sleeping peacefully.

He looked like he wanted to cry, too. Instead, he just cleared his throat, blinked to keep the tears away and spoke low so as to not disturb you or the sleeping toddler in his arms.

“Everythin’ alright?”

“With her?” Eddie’s red rimmed gaze drifted back to you, focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing, “Yeah.”

Wayne nodded once and they both stood there in silence for a few minutes as the world began to turn again. Something still wasn’t right, felt wrong. He could tell by the tension his boy still had, arms crossed as he crouched in the seat next to your bed.

“And the baby?”

Eddie flinched as if Wayne had shot a gun off in the air rather than mention his son.

“I don’t know.”

Wayne watched him with a careful eye, Eddie looked almost like he was vibrating from the force at which his leg was shaking, even your hospital bed appeared to be affected by it, though not nearly enough to disturb you.

As much as he wanted to comfort him, for once, Wayne didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say and he had an inkling that anything that came out of his mouth wouldn’t be heard by Eddie. He was lost in the dark crevices of his own mind.

The most he could do was offer to give him some alone time, he was sure his boy wasn’t keen on others sticking around right now, even him.

“I’ll take Penny home, me and Maude’ll watch her.”

Eddie shook his head, a look of panic flashing over his face, “No, that’s alright. She can stay with me.”

Wayne was reluctant, mouth set in a frown. Penny was a good girl, usually, but he didn’t know if Eddie could really handle her along with processing everything going on around him.

“Really, we wouldn’t mind─”

“I need her.”

That shut Wayne right up, he and Eddie shuffled to exchange Penny from his arms to her dad’s without waking her. She stirred momentarily then shoved her face into Eddie’s neck, her little body falling slack once more.

Wayne gave his shoulder a good squeeze, ran his hand gently over Penny’s back before he leaned down—and in a rare show of affection—pressed a brief kiss to your forehead.

As he was walking out of the room, Eddie felt the panic crawling down his throat again. He croaked out a broken, “Wayne─”

Wayne paused in the doorway, turning to acknowledge Eddie but his nephew didn’t continue, just looked scared. For a moment, Wayne was caught off guard, sucking in a breath as his boy looked young for the first time in a couple of years.

Now, he knew you and Eddie were young. He’d been aware of it when you got together, aware of it when you told him you were pregnant with Penny but sometime after that, he stopped seeing your age, stopped seeing Eddie’s as the two of you grew up for her. Now, right then, he remembered with startling clarity that Eddie wasn’t even twenty-five. He looked so young because he was.

Eddie didn’t have to say anything else because Wayne knew exactly what he wanted him to say.

Wayne nodded slowly, mouth pressing into a firm line of determination, “Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”

Eddie choked up, held Penny a little tighter and Wayne went on his way.

He found himself settling back into the seat he’d dragged near your bed, cradling Penny as she remained blissfully unaware and drooling on his scrub top.

Wayne wasn’t wrong, she’d probably be a little too much for him but she was his kid, it wasn't like he could just hand her off to people when life came at him like this and he really did need her right now. Again.

You were here and whole, but somewhere else in this hospital, a member of his little family was still slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t let the other one out of his sight, couldn’t lose her, too.

Once more, Eddie remained restless as the hours passed. He sat in mostly silence. He’d turned on the tv near your bed, the volume high enough to drown out the sounds of the hospital outside of the room but much too low to wake you. Rain trilled against the windows, much more gentle than it had been earlier. The storm had also passed, and if there was even an ounce of humor in him, he would have been amused with how this storm seemed to fester like a black cloud looming over him.

It’d been a normal day up until he’d gone to Lucas’ birthday party, but he’d been skeptical about leaving you, worried something would happen. The metaphorical little black cloud formed over him, as a result, and so did the actual black clouds, quickly calling for wind and rain at high speeds.

And when Eddie had found out you were okay, you were alive, his black cloud disappeared, though it left behind damage and a cold atmosphere. The real storm had also run its course, leaving behind weather that reflected exactly how Eddie felt.

Penny squirmed in his grasp, and he realized he’d tensed up so he quickly relaxed, shifting her into a more comfortable position in his hold.

“Why don’t you give her to me?”

Eddie’s head snapped over to you, surprised to find you awake, somewhat lucid and watching him with a small smile on your face.

“Because you just had your insides removed and put back in,” He smirked, another wave of relief washing over him. You’d woken up, you really were okay. You weren’t going to leave him.

You rolled your eyes, making a vague hand gesture to brush the subject off, clearly the surgeons hadn’t removed your sass.

“She’s tiny and there’s more than enough room on here for both of us.” You hissed as you slowly shimmied your way to the side of the bed and Eddie frowned.

“Okay, how about you don’t move so we can limit the amount of heart attacks you give me today, yeah?” You knew Eddie must have been worried so you didn’t take the lack of humor behind his words and the tension on his face personally.

A quick glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions, “It’s three in the morning, Eddie. New day, but I’ll keep my antics to a minimum.”

Insistently, you patted the spot next to you, perfectly Penny sized and high enough to guarantee she wouldn’t accidentally move against your incision.

With a sigh, Eddie complied, gathering his daughter up. Tensing up disturbed her but full on moving her didn’t, most likely used to being carried into your home after she’d fallen asleep in her car seat or on the couch.

She didn’t stir when he laid her down, either. You both had to rearrange her limbs into a more comfortable position, one that didn’t make it look like she was possessed. Once Eddie tucked her in, he let out another sigh and cast you an apologetic look, big brown eyes wide, glassy and full of sorrow.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” It was the last thing you deserved after what you’d gone through.

The sincerity in his voice almost hurt you, it was heavy, as though it carried more weight than just a simple apology for his tone.

You held out your hand and Eddie immediately slipped his over it, locking his fingers with yours, squeezing as his breath hitched.

Your hand was so warm and soft. At one point in the last twenty-four hours, he’d thought he’d never get to feel it again, never get to hold your hand or see your pretty face. Never get to say…

“I love you,” he blurted out, the panic he’d felt earlier when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those three words to you climbed right out of his belly, trying to claw its way out of his chest. Eddie took in a shuddering breath, head shaking as a hot tear escaped its confinement, trailing down his cheek. He moved to the other side of the hospital bed, so he wouldn’t crush Penny, and took your face in his hands, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, hoping he was able to convey just how much he loved you.

He needed you to know.

“Eddie,” you mumbled as he pulled away, only to hide himself in the crook of your neck again. You could feel his tears against your skin and it alarmed you. “I love you, too, baby. What’s wrong?”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he confessed and you felt your heart seize up, “I thought I was gonna lose you twice in the same damn day. I was so fucking scared, sweetheart.”

When he’d been driving to the hospital, there had been a moment when he wondered if you’d still be breathing when he got there. It made him want to throw up so he quickly squashed it and forced it to the back of his head. It hadn’t been ideal when he’d entered the operation room, he didn’t like seeing you get cut open but it was comforting to see he’d overreacted. You were getting a c-section, you weren’t on your deathbed.

Until you had been.

And for the second time that day, he thought you were going to die, thought he’d somehow cruelly manifested this for you and himself.

“I’m alright, Eddie.” You freed your hand, grabbing his to cradle your cheek with.

“See? I’m okay. You didn’t lose me, you’re not going to.” Eddie pulls away from his hiding spot to stare down at you, the wounded puppy look still firmly in place so you add a little humor, hoping to get a smile out of him, “There’s no way I’m checking out this early, I can’t risk you moving on when you look this good.”

Eddie’s hand was so big his fingers were tucked into your hair, his palm alone took up most of your cheek. His fingertips lightly massaged the area of your scalp available to him as the hurt on his face morphed into an earnest look, somehow more vulnerable.

“There’s no moving on from you, you’re taking my soul, my heart, all of it with you when you go. You’re the love of my life, my everything. And that—fuck, it terrifies me because I’d still have Penny to take care of and I wouldn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t know how to pull myself out of it, if it’d even be possible and quite frankly, I don’t ever want to fucking find out.”

Eddie was more than happy to have those types of questions remain unanswered for the rest of his life.

“You’d be able to do it, I know you would. You would be able to take care of Penny and the baby.” You knew he would, your husband would pull himself out of his depression to make sure your children were okay because of how much he loved them, despite his grief.

Eddie flinched, something you were quick to clock. You didn’t need to ask, he could see the question reflecting in those beautiful eyes of yours.

He had to break the news. You were already in a frail condition and he had to tell you the baby you’d almost died to have, your son, might still die.

“Honey, the baby—he—fuck, he’s uh…there’s something wrong with his heart.”

The way your face plummeted shattered something inside of him.

“What?”

“He’s got a hole in his heart, the doctor said it was pretty common amongst heart defects but since he was born so early, it’d be difficult to medicate him or perform an operation. All they can do is keep him under observation, he still might not make it because of how young he is.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, head dropping back to meet your pillow as you tried, and failed, not to cry. Why was this happening? You blamed yourself, why hadn’t you been able to keep him in your belly? Why had your own body betrayed you? Why had you failed your baby?

“This is all my fault,” you declared, eyes and cheeks growing wet with your tears.

“No, no, sweetheart.” Eddie was not about to let you take the blame for something out of your control or even allow you to believe any of this was your fault. “You can’t possibly believe this is on you. These things happen, it obviously isn’t ideal, but it’s just circumstance. It’s not your fault and it’s not the baby’s fault. You did everything you could and more. Okay?”

He leaned in, finger stroking gently across your cheekbone as he caught a tear. You sniffled, nodding once as he pulled you back together.

“What does he look like?” You asked, snuggling back into the pillow as Eddie coddled you.

He hesitated for a moment before he answered, “I—I don’t know.”

That elicited a small frown from you, “You haven’t seen him yet?”

Eddie swallowed hard, gaze moving away from you, “No.”

You waited, watching a series of emotions pass over his features. Eddie often tried to keep his internal struggles to himself, a habit you noticed once you became friends with him (ironically, through some trauma bonding) and even into your relationship. You hadn’t expected him to confide everything in you right away, though you had let him know should he ever need someone to talk to, you’d be there.

Now, it wasn’t a matter of if he would, it was when. It didn’t take him long.

“I don’t know—I guess,” he pursed his lips, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the all too familiar burn of fresh tears. How many times had he cried in the last twenty-four hours? He felt ridiculous to be so emotional, then again, he’d never thought he’d find himself in this tragic situation, so he was due for a couple of breakdowns, “I know if I go down there and I—I look at him, I’m gonna fall in love with him and then what? He dies. I can’t do that, not if I’m gonna lose him forever. I can’t.”

Eddie was leaking tears, not yet sobbing but well on his way as he made his confession. He couldn’t stomach seeing his baby boy if he was going to be taken away from him, if the two of you would have to put a tiny little coffin—a size that should never have to exist—six feet into the ground. He’d been put through the fucking ringer but Eddie couldn’t do that. It would break him.

Eddie’s confession had you crying as well, you shared his pain. You didn’t want to lose your baby, either. You couldn’t remember what he looked like through the haze of your fatigue when you’d given birth to him, but if you tried to think hard enough, you could remember how it felt to have him in your arms in the passenger seat of Wayne’s truck. The first time you’d held him and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

Even if it was, you were grateful you’d had the chance to and you knew Eddie would never forgive himself if he didn’t get to see him, didn’t get to meet him.

“I know you’re terrified, Eds. It scares me, too.” You grabbed his hand just as it slipped away from your face, encouraging him to look at you. “I don’t want to lose him, either. I want to take him home. I want to cuddle with him, nurse him, take tons of pictures of him with Penny and with you, but most of all, I want to make sure he knows I love him.”

It killed you to imagine your baby in an incubator, small, helpless and with no one but the nurses, who could make the time to check on him in between all their other patients, offering him comfort. Human contact. And if he did end up passing, he could do so alone in there, not knowing how loved he was.

“I know you love him, Eddie, and you don’t want to lose him. But you can’t lose him if you don’t have him, baby. I hate that this is even a possibility for us, but I’d rather have held him and lost him than to never have picked him up at all. I’ll be okay with whatever you decide, but do you really want him to die without having gotten to meet his dad?”

Eddie let out a choked sob as he shook his head. He didn’t want his baby to die at all but you were right, if he did lose his kid, he’d spend the rest of his life agonizing over the same thing Eddie had been upset with himself for when he thought he’d lose you. He’d been unable to recall the last time he told you he loved you. Only, he’d know he never told his son.

“I’ll be right back,” he swore and you nodded just as he leaned down to give you a kiss. He wiped away his tears, inhaled a particularly violent sniffle and you watched as he left your room to finally meet his baby.

Eddie felt almost disorientated as he navigated his way to the NICU. He’d been there once, briefly, to check on Penny when she’d been there for a few hours, but that was a couple of years ago and he’d needed the assistance of several nurses and staff to direct him, but he finally made it.

The entrance room, where the viewing window was located, was nearly empty. There was a woman further down, gazing through the large window.

Eddie approached it with caution and his heart racing a mile a minute. It wasn’t too difficult to find his baby. His son was in an incubator, close to the window and labeled ‘MUNSON’. For the first time, Eddie got to take his son in. He had been right, he fell in love with him at first sight.

He was smaller than some of the other babies, bigger than others as well and surprisingly well developed. Kind of calmed Eddie’s nerves, just a little. He had a couple of monitor pads attached to his tummy with an additional one wrapped around his tiny foot. Other than the nasal cannula, baby Munson didn’t have a whole lot of tubes attached to him like Eddie had imagined and he could see a smattering of hair on his head, somewhat light in shade but he had a feeling it would darken soon to resemble his own.

It was hard to tell if Wayne and Penny were right in their description of him, Eddie couldn’t tell if he was still pale since the baby was cloaked in blue light, but he assumed his son had gained some color by then. Eddie also couldn’t make out his eyes, those were covered by some sort of eye cloth, most likely for protection. He looked a little odd, obviously resembled a baby and while his features were almost indistinguishable, appearing a little generic, as his face still needed to develop a little more, Eddie could see hints of familiar features.

He looked like newborn Penny, well, so far. Her features had obviously changed since then, and still were, but he was promising to look almost exactly like she had when she was born. And Eddie thought Penny looked a lot like you, so it got a smile out of him, regardless of the fact his son was bound to resemble his family.

Eddie watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest with concern. Was he supposed to be breathing that fast? Was he okay?

“Which one is yours?”

Eddie turned to peer over at the woman who’d asked him the question, “Munson.”

Eddie watched as her gaze moved over all the incubators until they found the correct one.

“Oh, he’s a cute one. And his breathing looks incredible.”

“Really? It’s not too fast?” He asked, the worry in his voice obvious.

“Considering it’s his first time pumping those lungs, I don’t think so, no. Looks like he’s breathing real good to me. Mine needs a little help.” She pointed through the glass to an incubator that housed a baby with a tube in its mouth as well as individual ones in each nostril unlike his son’s nasal cannula. Eddie felt horrible.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to apologize but she waved him off, a smile still on her face.

“Don’t be, that’s all mine is here for. As soon as she figures out how to keep doing it on her own, she’ll be back with me and my wife.”

Right on, Eddie thought. Before he could continue their conversation, a nurse knocked on the window.

She gestured down to the baby, “Is he yours?”

Wow, this glass must have been thin, he could hear her pretty good.

For some reason, Eddie still assumed she couldn’t hear him and only nodded. She disappeared for a minute and emerged into the room through a large pair of doors.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Eddie glanced at the other occupant and she gave him a nod of encouragement.

“Yeah,” he rasped out, turning to look at his son through the window once more, “Yeah, I would.”

Eddie was nervous the entire time as she prepped him with instructions. While they were concerned about the hole in his son’s heart, he was well developed, had strong vitals, good reactions, even for thirty weeks. He was so good that had it not been for his heart, he probably would have been sent home at the same time as you, given your longer than average stay due to your c-section and preeclampsia.

And when she placed him in his arms, the love he had for his son almost overwhelmed him. He couldn’t believe he almost denied himself this.

“Can I touch him?” He asked, after he’d stopped marveling at the small face—eyes still hidden—in his arms.

“Mhm, we’d encourage it. Babies, even born preterm, are still very much so human. He craves the contact, it might even encourage him.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate, fingers gently stroking over the soft fluff of hair on his son’s head. This close, he could see it all pushed towards the middle of his head, like a mohawk. His baby was already metal straight out of your womb, it made him chuckle.

The nurse stepped away to tend to another baby, giving him a little privacy. Eddie maneuvered his son so he was resting on his chest, little head pressed against the spot just over his heart.

“Hi,” he whispered down to the baby in his arms, “I’m your dad.”

Much to Eddie’s awe, the baby nuzzled his head against his chest, making him still. He didn’t know why, but he’d believed his son wouldn’t be able to move for some reason. It was nice to know he was wrong.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” he laughed, the sound soft, “I’ve been looking forward to it, you must have, too. You sure know how to make an entrance, huh? Couldn’t wait in your mom any longer?”

Eddie ducked down to kiss his little head, lips remaining there as he moved to sit in one of the few chairs of the NICU.

“It’s okay, though. I’ve got you, daddy’s got you.” Even if the outcome wasn’t okay, right at that moment with his son in his arms, everything felt like it would be. And if his son needed encouragement, Eddie would give it to him.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come find you, your mom had to talk some sense into me. She loves you a lot, you know? Probably jealous I’m down here and she isn’t, but only because she physically can’t just yet.”

Eddie’s hand went to support the back of his head as he moved the baby down to hold in his hands, staring down at his little face.

“I’ll bring her down to see you again as soon as I can, though. So you gotta keep fighting, okay? I know things are hard for you right now, not as easy as the other babies in the hospital, but I know you can do it. I love you so much, your mom and I just want to take you home, so you gotta beat this, okay?”

Eddie rocked his baby, gentle swaying motions as he pressed kiss after kiss to his head.

“I see you’ve made it down for a visit,”

Eddie glanced up at the face of Dr. Houseman, she didn’t look as intimidating as she had when she’d first approached him in the waiting room.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I’m very glad I caught you. I heard your wife is doing well.”

“She is,” he confirmed, with a relieved grin.

“Good, I’m glad. Have you been given an update on your little guy?”

Eddie recounted what the nurse had told him and Dr. Houseman looked pleased.

“Well, I have more news for you. He’s proving to be much stronger than we’d initially anticipated, and while his vitals were already good on intake, they’ve improved tremendously in the last few hours and so have his responses. I think he’s figuring out what he’s capable of doing; how to breathe, how to move, how to eat—we introduced him to a rubber nipple to check his latch response and it’s good, not quite there yet, we’ll have to get creative with his feedings but I think he’ll be able to latch onto his mom soon.”

She must have caught the way Eddie perked up at her use of the word soon. That meant his baby had a fighting chance.

“These first few hours after a birth such as his and with his condition are crucial. While he’s still significantly weaker than an average full term newborn, your baby seems to be a fighter. Should he survive this next night, I believe he’ll make it. He’d just need some time in here while the hole closes up, but it just might not be too much for him.”

She left him with that news and a parting smile.

Eddie held his son for a few more minutes before a nurse returned to put him back in his incubator. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, but he’d promised him he’d be back.

When Eddie got back to the room, his heart was a little lighter and he was able to smile when he saw you giving Penny, who was now wide awake, kisses. He pressed his back up against the door and watched for a few moments as you leaned in and gave her a loud kiss. She’d go into a fit of giggles before demanding another with an again!

“Daddy!” Penny beamed the moment she saw him and Eddie grinned as he made his way over, lifting her into his arms when she held hers up to him.

“Hi, pretty one. You sleep good?”

“Uh-huh,” it was clear she was distracted and didn’t care about his questions, no, she had some of her own. “You see my baby?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, trading an amused look with you.

“Oh, he’s your baby now?”

“Ya, he’s—he’s my baby.” She nodded with a grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned down to press his forehead to hers.

“Well, then yes. I saw your baby,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose.

“Wha’helooklike?” Penny blurted out, eyes wide as she waited for his reply.

“He looked a lot like you.”

“Nooooooo,” Penny laughed, shaking her head against her dad’s, “He is my potatoes, not anoda Penny.”

“It’s true!” Eddie laughed with her as he put her back down by your side and leaned in to give you yet another—he’d never stop giving them to you—kiss.

“He looks like her?” You asked, after you’d returned his kiss.

“Mhm,” Eddie fell back into the seat he’d occupied hours earlier. “Looks like she did when she was a newborn. He’s not pale—like a potato,” he directed that part to Penny who just laughed into her little hands, “anymore, at least. I don’t know whose eyes he has, they were covered.”

Eddie was right about you being jealous, you were practically green with it.

“I wish I could see him,” you stated sadly, frown on your lips. You knew, realistically, if he started to decline, they’d most likely let you out of bed to see him or bring him up to you, but still. You’d rather it not come to that.

“Ran into his doctor while I was there, she said he’s got a better chance.”

Your eyes lit up, “Really?”

“I was just about ready to kiss her.” He nodded and you made a face, nose doing that adorable scrunch he loved so much.

“Okay, well, don’t do that.”

Eddie snickered, “It was a figure of speech, baby.”

“I know, I’m just saying it on her behalf,”

“On her behalf?” Eddie pouted, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“Yeah, I want to kiss her, too, but—uhm, Eds, you might need some sleep ‘cause—you’re hot, you really are, but you also look insane right now.”

Eddie got up to make his way to the bathroom so he could see himself in the mirror, nearly jumping once he’d turned on the lights.

His eyes were beyond bloodshot, his eye bags were dark and very apparent, his skin had an interesting almost gray like tinge to it and his hair was a wreck. Eddie looked like he belonged in a psych ward.

“Jesus,” he shouted loud enough to be heard by you.

“It’s okay, Eds. You’re still beautiful to me!”

Eddie did end up sleeping. Turns out the chair he’d been sitting on was also a pull out bed. You insisted that he get some rest, and while he did, you changed Penny’s diaper and got some hospital room service for the two of you, you’d even picked something out on the menu for Eddie to eat once he woke up.

3K notes · View notes

haveyouseenherlately · 22 days

Text

pov: matty finally comes back from tour

just some fluffy and smutty times after he arrives at your place.

this one is longer than usual as it’s one i had in my drafts from a while ago.

warning: 18+, smut. grammatical errors, typos.

word count: ~2,900

masterlist here.

———

it was 17:48 and you stood facing your dirty floor length mirror. you kept messing with your hair, doing your best to tame it but nothing seemed to be working as little bits just kept sticking out at the sides. sigh.

today was the day. after many, many weeks (a lifetime, really) matty was finally coming back to london. you'd been counting down the hours for this night since you last hugged him right outside the uber. "don't miss me too much, darling," he whispered before he kissed your lips one more time, hopped inside the car, and left you standing there, alone.

to say you missed him was an understatement. you tried to keep occupied by picking up extra shifts at the cafe, frequenting the cinema by yourself, rearranging your room several times, anything to keep your mind from that messy curly hair and pretty brown eyes. but nothing worked which made you feel sick to your stomach with longing.

every other minute he made his way back into your thoughts whether you wanted him there or not. you missed his stupid, silly grin. you missed his baggy clothes. you missed his hands tangled in yours. you missed seeing him walk through your door.

it was now 18:12 and you finally finished picking out your outfit. some sheer black tights, a short denim skirt and one of his shirts, the flowery one which he accidentally left at your flat years ago. the buttoned top was too large for your frame, but you didn’t care as it very faintly smelled of coffee, cigarettes and matty.

you were choosing a ring next when a knock at the door made your heart jump. the jewellery didn’t matter anymore as you swiftly ran across your hallway, thankful that your flatmate agreed to spend the night elsewhere because she knew what would end up happening. you smirked because you knew she wasn't wrong...

you swung the door open (a bit harder than you meant to) and there he was, holding one single white flower.

“i’m searching for my girlfriend. do you know where she might be?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help and laugh at his stupid pickup line. "is that really the best you could come up with during the last few months, healy?"

you stepped forward to wrap your arms around him, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and pulling yourself in as close as humanly possible. his arms found your waist and the both of you stood there while you felt the warm blood rush through your body.

“i missed you, matty” is all you managed to say before you pulled away just far enough to kiss him on the lips which he eagerly welcomed. he tasted of honey and everything was okay again. “i missed you, too, love.” you kissed once more.

you stepped aside to welcome him in, closed the door in front of you, taking a long, deep breath before turning around. he held out the small flower which you gladly took to place in a small bottle half-filled with water. you enjoyed that he was one for cheesy, romantic gestures because deep down you loved them even if you didn't admit to it.

matty sat down on the floor to take off his beat up sneakers. "huh, so i guess that's where my shirt went," he looked up and pointed at the top you wore. you decided to leave the upper three buttons undone which you hoped he would notice. "but it looks much better on you." he definitely noticed.

———

it was now 20:36. you'd both spent a few hours catching up, matty sharing his stories from tour while you made him a very simple but tasty dinner. "you have no idea how much i missed having food that doesn't come in a greasy paper bag." he ate up every single bit of the meal while you just watched from your spot on top of the kitchen counter, glass wine between your hands.

while you missed him when he was gone, you didn't envy the lifestyle of a touring band. it sounded lonely. even though there were many people around you, it appeared they only wanted to get in your bed. matty didn't seem to mind so it made you wonder if anything might’ve happened between him and others...

you continued to sip your wine, taking mental notes of his current appearance. his eyes were tired yet his greenish cardigan made them sparkle. his hair was slightly shorter than you remembered, yet defined curls still framing his face. he wore his usual necklace but there were some new ones added to the mix. you liked them (he knew you would).

when he finished his food, he got up to wash the dirty dishes and store them away. dear matty wasn't one to keep his own home clean but you appreciated his efforts to be better at your place. thank you.

he walked over to you (still on the countertop), snaked his arms around your waist and placed his head on your chest. you set your wine glass aside to play with his hair, soft and fluffy between your fingers. you definitely missed this.

it wasn't long before the both of you sat on the sofa messily kissing as if to make up for the time he was gone. you'd be lying if this wasn't what you’d been looking forward to the most, yet it still caught you by surprise when you found yourself straddling his lap. you realized what happened and it made your face turn red, which matty instantly noticed.

"are you okay, love?" he kissed the corner of your mouth, "we can always stop if you want." he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs to provide some comfort, eyebrows knitted together wondering if he had done something to upset you.

he had done nothing wrong. you hesitated because for once, you wanted to be in control. and knowing that you had mindlessly crawled on top of him made you realize you were about to make that happen. or at least attempt to.

you grabbed his hands in yours, placing them over his head and behind the sofa as his look of concern turned to that of hunger. you bent down to eagerly kiss him, making your way to his neck and leaving small red love bites all over. you could tell he wanted more as his hips started to shift up and down, but you didn't give him the satisfaction just yet. instead you bit down on his neck one last time before placing your forehead against his. "i want to be the one riding you tonight."

you saw as his pupils dilated at your request, his goofy grin starting to appear before your lips found his again to stop him from talking. (this wasn’t the time for cocky remarks, sorry matthew.) you could feel him melt underneath you as his fingers went soft in your grasp. "do you understand?" all he could do was nod before you bit his bottom lip, finally eliciting a moan from him. this was all the confirmation needed to boost your confidence.

matty gazed at you, slowly panting through parted lips as you brought his arms back over his head and placed his palms on your chest. he understood what you needed from him, as he started touching your breasts making you close your eyes and smile. “fuck, i want you.” he began to unbutton your shirt but you quickly swatted his hands away. “not time for that yet, i’m afraid.” the sounds that came from his lips were just heavenly, want dripping from every groan.

now you were the one who started to remove his cardigan, pulling at the fabric of his white shirt underneath until his upper half was bare. “you’re a thing of beauty.” you couldn’t help but kiss him again, holding on to his shoulders hard enough for your nails to dig into his skin, leaving more marks on his body.

you began to slowly grind your hips against him, feeling his excitement through his jeans. his fingers found your hips as he tried to get you to move faster. you stopped.

right away he knew he made a mistake, causing him to groan in frustration and cover his face with his hands. “this is not fair.” seeing him want you this bad was exactly what you had craved when you daydreamed of this scenario.

you removed his hands from his face and pressed a peck on his nose. “just taking my time to see what you do, baby. clearly it’s not your thing.” this made him chuckle but you could feel the tension building on his body as you slid down his lap, placing yourself on your knees right in front of him.

you pressed your cheek against his thigh, innocently looking up at him, batting your eyelashes at a sexually frustrated matty. you didn’t feel too bad for him.

now that you had started to undo his belt, he gazed down at you, bottom lip quivering between his teeth pleading for you to go faster. you managed to unzip his trousers, right away noticing a wet spot on his boxers which you touched with your thumb, swears leaving his mouth the second he felt you finally pay attention to his cock.

you pulled down his jeans which fell to pool at his ankles. you kissed his tip through the thin fabric, hands moving up to hook on the waistband and tugging it down. the dumb expression on his face was priceless. you had him were you wanted and there was nothing he could do about it.

all of his clothing was finally set aside. a naked matty sat right in front of you and you were pretty sure you could do anything. you still didn't feel bad for him.

———

you quickly glanced at your watch, the hands telling you it was 21:42. still on your knees, you decided it was maybe time to give poor matty some relief. he had tried his best after all.

when you started to stroke his cock, his head fell back and the sounds pouring out of his mouth were otherworldly. his hands were to his sides, grabbing at the fabric of the couch as you continued to move your own fingers up and down at a slow but steady pace.

once again you placed your cheek on his leg and looked up at him, taking a mental picture of wet parted lips, unruly brown hair, and slightly closed eyes.

he finally looked back at you, lifting his right hand to run it through your hair. even though you were giving him a hard time, he was gentle with you, knowing that hurried actions weren't going to get him anywhere tonight. you were glad he now understood. even though you wanted to be in control and make him come undone, you still yearned for softness and care, something which you've always wanted from a relationship but were never lucky to receive. this was the closest you've ever been.

you continued to stroke him while you brought your lips to his tip, taking him in your mouth. "fuck, fuck..." you knew it took all of matty's strength to not thrust his hips into you. good boy, you thought.

after a few minutes of licking and sucking, you stopped (sorry matthew), stood up and grabbed his hands in yours to lead him into your room. when the two of you reached your bed, you kissed him for the millionth time that night before gently pushing him into your bed. you both laughed, matty getting settled on your covers, head on your pillow, all while you took off your skirt and tights.

he stared at you getting undressed, doe eyed and sweet, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. ugh, he was perfect you had to admit.

in only your (well, his) shirt and underwear, you crawled on top of him, carefully sitting on his legs. this is how you had pictured this evening, you above him studying his every action.

you started to undo the remaining buttons of the flowered shirt one by one, taking your time getting to the last one. an excited matty lifted himself on his forearms, sucking at his bottom lip when the shirt fell off your arms and realized you had nothing underneath. "god, you're going to be the death of me."

he grabbed a hold of your thigh, drawing slow circles with his thumb wondering what your next move would be. what he wasn't expecting was to see you slide your hand down your panties and to start rubbing your clit. to be honest, neither did you.

but it felt good. you knew how to please yourself better than anyone and it was made infinitely better by having a horny boy gazing in your direction, lusting after you. his hand had stopped caressing your leg and instead he was holding on to it like his life depended on it. you continued to touch yourself, slowly moving your hips along and never breaking eye contact with him.

it wasn't long after that you inserted a finger, making sure he knew exactly what you were doing. you didn't confess that you did this same thing many times while he was gone, thinking of fucking him senseless. that's what you now wanted, too.

you pulled your hand out of your underwear and swiftly took them off in the process, finding yourself naked on top of a patient matty. you didn't waste any more time as you moved forwards, gently touching his lips as he opened his mouth to hungrily suck on your fingers. you wanted him to taste you, his moans reassuring you he was enjoying every second of it.

once your fingers were wet enough, you went straight for his cock again, but moved at a much faster pace than before. the poor boy couldn't keep a hold himself anymore, loud whimpers echoing off the walls and his whole body twitching underneath you. "please, fuck me." that's all you needed to hear before you kneeled forward to place him at your entrance and finally start riding him.

the sensation of him filling you up felt unlike anything else, making you arch your back in hopes of getting even closer to him. you couldn't go slow any longer, but your movements were still calculated, wanting to savour every single moment.

"you feel so good, sweetheart," he managed to mumble out between moans. his head was on the pillow, a lewd expression on his face as you continued to grind your hips against him, his hands firmly holding on to ensure you didn't stop.

your hair started to stick to your body as sweat appeared on your skin. you leaned back a little to keep yourself upright, while also giving him a better view. you knew exactly what you were doing and he took notice. a string of swears stumbled out of him, a look of nothing but hunger across his face as you kept thrusting yourself against him. "matty, please touch me."

you didn't need to ask him twice before he propped himself up to a sitting position and started to grab your breasts while you continued to fuck him. there was no harshness to his touch, which you greatly appreciated, a deep contrast to your hips frantically bucking back and forth on his hard cock.

his mouth went to your neck, placing small kisses wherever he could while moaning your name against your skin. it was all too much and not enough. he cupped your face, resting his forehead against yours, both breathing heavily and quietly laughing at the same time. just as the flower he gave you earlier that day, these cheesy, small gestures were what you craved the most. "matty."

it was at that moment that you hit your high, unable to control your movements any longer and giving yourself permission to let go as he held your body close. your head fell back as he carefully grabbed the side of your neck to ensure you didn't go far. a few seconds later you felt warmth as he came inside you, crying your name once again.

you kept your arms wrapped around each other for a while, him kissing the top of your head asking if you were okay. you nodded against his neck, unable to move much as most of your energy had all been spent.

eventually he fell down on his back and looked at you, “fuckin' hell, that was amazing.” he was still catching his breath, you both were. “maybe i should go on tour more if this is the welcome i get.” that earned him a pillow smack on the side of the head. “don’t get any ideas, healy. you got lucky this time.”

#matty #matty healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut #the 1975 #smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfic #matty healy one shot #matty healy fic #bf matty #bf matty blurb

108 notes · View notes

goodluckclove · 15 days

Text

I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #queer writers #authors of tumblr #on writing #writing #actually writing #writing resources #writing tips #writing help #writing advice #how to write #writing tips and tricks #writers supporting writers

142 notes · View notes

desire-mona · 3 days

Text

siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

#desire mona #YAYYYYYYYY TODD AUTISM POST #do yall want a seperate autistic anderperry hc post cuz i can do that #genderqueer todd i love you so much #dead poets society #todd anderson #anderperry #the todd spectrum #actually autistic #banger

70 notes · View notes

oneatlatime · 7 months

Text

The Blind Bandit

I had honestly forgotten that the Gaang were trying to find an earthbending teacher, so the 'previously on' segment was actually useful instead of spoilery.

Nobody's face is having a good time.

Look at this sweetheart. You go ahead and treat yourself honey. You've single-handedly escorted a pair of earth-shatteringly overpowered tweens around the world for months; the least you deserve is a shopping trip.

"You kids like earthbending?" Has the same energy as "wanna buy a sun dial?" from that animated Hercules movie.

This guy is one of those strip mall karate types.

I take back everything I ever said about Zuko's season 1 haircut. This guy has a dust bunny poop on his head.

Momo's bag now.

My absolute favourite girl power: incredible violence!

The acoustics at this earth rumble place must be great. I don't see any microphones.

"That's what I paid for." Sokka is a simple creature at heart. Likes food and violence.

Something very strange about this guy's face. I think his mouth moves but his eyes don't.

So apparently earthbending gets you mad air.

Oh! I get it. This is a WWE parody. Somebody on the writing team did their homework too. Don't ask me how I know, but this is a very accurate parody.

Sokka thinks listening to big muscles is a very good idea actually.

And here's the heel. Complete with russian accent. And oddly homoerotic anthem. And cowardice when challenged! Yep, total heel.

I LOLed at the zamboni badgermoles and hockey organ.

She's like two feet tall!

I'm. in love.

I could watch little girls beat up grown men all day.

Earthbending sonar?

Omigod it predicts. She can see moves before they happen.

Well it's a good thing Bumi said to look for someone who Waited and Listened rather than Watched.

"I don't really want to fight you. I want to talk to you." Says the guy who just volunteered, in front of a full stadium, to FIGHT her. Time and place, Aang.

Get back on the ground you flighty airbender. She sees with that ground. No fair.

This is about the face I made when Aang pulled that move. Does this boy think at all? I love him, but what part of stealing her well-earned title is supposed to convince her to talk to him?

You messed up.

I love sartorially inclined Sokka. It's a tiny an innocuous little trait, but it rounds out his character so well.

I get to watch two different girls terrorise idiots this episode. I am blessed.

So I'm guessing the two idiots at the earthbending academy are doing that excercise where kung fu people stick their hands in sand (I've seen videos of it) but it really looked like they were in the 'beat back the dough' phase of making bread.

In this universe of plot-convenient clothing blindness, how do Dumb and Dumber recognise Aang as the one who beat the Blind Bandit?

I think the voice actor for the dumb kid with actual hair did a bunch of voices in season 1. The soldier who gives Aang Bato's map comes to mind.

Have I said recently how much I love Sokka and Katara?

These wrestling guys keep switching between first and third person. Too many rocks to the head.

This could be a board for a murder mystery board game. Or a map for a DND dungeon.

It's her hair. I thought the Blind Bandit had a cap type thing with a little brim for her costume, but it's just a pile of her hair? Like a beehive?

A lesson in character writing: if you want to make someone look super dumb, have them earnestly believe in the credentials and authenticity of a guy you have previously set up as a borderline con artist. Lookin at you, Blind Bandit's dad.

"Basic forms and breathing exercises only." That line is just so funny. And they're all so stupid. She snapped like half a dozen spines last night and this guy is preaching breathing exercises.

Wow! I hate her dad!

I hate him more!

Sokka going ham on some rice rather than listen to the idiots. Good priorities.

This passive aggressive fight between the girl and Aang at the dinner table is so fun.

Looking for somewhere to store your meal after you've face planted into it? Try the top of your head!

I need to get a hold of some of those magic napkins. Wiped up a whole multicourse meal in like 5 seconds.

That is indeed the appropriate reaction to this pint sized badass. Glad Aang is learning. (Also this episode needs more Appa. The last couple have been sadly bereft.)

Called it. Earthdending sonar. Or is it more like echolocation? No! Whiskers!

How does this pint sized badass - who if I am understanding correctly, is not known to exist outside the walls of her house - have more emotional intelligence than the entirety of the Gaang put together?

So much for the guards in the garden. They'd actually be useful now.

Sokka. Priorities. Although given how many times Aang has escaped custody/kidnapping he's probably ok to take a minute to fangirl over an autograph.

These idiot parents don't know their daughter at all. That chafes.

"I'm not smiling." I LOLed at that too. Perfect delivery.

Hippo man having a snack before he gets down to business. No wonder he's missing teeth.

All this blind and tiny and helpless and fragile talk is really making me hope someone smacks the crap out of the dad. What an awful thing to say, nevermind saying it where your daughter can hear.

SMACKDOWN INCOMING

This is gonna be good.

If this girl does join the Gaang the writers are going to have to nerf her in every major conflict. She's too powerful. I bet she could take on the firelord now.

And that's why you don't announce sneak attacks.

So remember how Sokka was absolutely losing his shit over the Boulder? That's me right now.

She waits. All these idiots are losing because they're getting impatient and attacking first. Which means that, to her senses, they're telegraphing their moves. That is so cool. And so is this visual.

Here's your chance Dad. Are you going to mess it up?

"I love fighting. I love being an Earthbender. And I'm really really good at it." me:

I don't have words for how much I LOVE when little girls STAND UP for THEMSELVES and THEIR INTERESTS. This would have had me HOLLERING if I'd seen it as a kid. It was a message I needed to hear too.

Wow I want to kill her parents.

OH FUCK OFF

COME ON

You made my girl cry.

Get wrecked belt stealer. I LOLed at this too.

Sokka just beaned a blind girl on the head. Not a good look. I laughed though.

Fun fact: everyone in this picture is a piece of shit.

I haven't been this steamed since Zuko's dad burned half his face off.

Final Thoughts

IT WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, this episode feels like it's movie quality. This show is usually excellent, but this feels like a cut above. I feel like I could sense the love the writers, animators, voice actors, everyone had for this episode. They had a good time making it and were enthusiastic about it. And there were lots of tiny background details in this episode too. I'm sure I missed quite a few. Oh No! I'll have to rewatch it!

New team member! That hasn't happened since Momo. Actually, no wonder the episode was so good. Introducing the first new team member in at least a season's worth of episodes is a delicate operation. I bet they were workshopping this episode since early in the first season.

And Toph! (thank you credits for how to spell that - I was really hoping it wasn't Toff). Be still my heart I love Toph. She may well take Sokka's spot as my favourite character. Strength of character, self-assurance, emotional intelligence, badassery, mastery of violence, what's not to love!!!

How did she get so emotionally intelligent and articulate if her parents have kept her caged her whole life? I don't know but I'm not complaining!

How did her parents get away with caging her for her whole life? I do know (money) and I am complaining. Very much so. And yet Toph can still find it within herself to have an honest conversation with them, including apologising for leaving said cage. I never would have had the maturity to do that in a similar situation. I would have gone the Katara explosive rage route.

A little girl who stands up for herself. Against HER PARENTS. I just. Do you know how amazing that is? Especially in a kids' show? I was ROBBED by not being able to see this show when I was Toph's age.

Does bending work like a muscle, in that you build up stamina? Because if so, then Toph is the strongest human earthbender in the world by default. If she's using it in place of seeing, then she's using it 100% of the time that she's awake, all day every day. By the time she was like 5 years old she'd probably used her bending more than the average earthbender does in their whole lifetime.

My one complaint is Toph's voice. Nothing wrong with it; this is a me thing. It fits her perfectly, but my ears do not play well with nasal voices, which hers is. I had to rewind quite a few times and resorted to subtitles by the end. Hopefully I'll get used to it like I did Zuko's.

Sokka! My soon to be demoted beloved! He shone in this episode. I love that he has fashion sense and is not afraid to show it. I'm thinking, what with how hung up he was on masculinity at the start of the show, that the water tribes have a different conception of masculinity: one that classes fashionability as a masculine or gender neutral trait. Even back in season one it didn't take much to get Sokka into the Kyoshi warrior uniform, and he's shockingly good at applying face paint symmetrically. Which I still cannot do with winged eyeliner.

Katara! Not headed for a career in diplomacy but so satisfying to watch. I would love to have a Katara in my pocket that I could unleash on people. And her and Sokka bouncing off each other this episode was great. Every one was at peak performance this episode, except Aang. Not at his brightest this episode.

Checking for typos before I post this and I realise I'd already forgotten that Toph is blind! Just like in the Northern Air Temple, this is how you do disability right: as just a part of who they are, rather than an entire personality. This show is so good.

In sum, Toph:

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #the blind bandit #avatar the last airbender

191 notes · View notes

thatone-brightstar · 11 months

Text

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 11: Collateral Damage

Words: 5.8k

Summary: It's been a month since your breakup with Carmy and Syd wouldn't ask for your help unless they were absolutely slammed.

a/n: 1 more chapter + epilogue to go and I don't know what to do with myselffff!!!!

Thank you for sticking around thus far and commenting is always appreciated!

Heartbreak is a funny little thing. You can walk a delicate line all your life to avoid feeling it, but one way or another it’ll find you. It’s the eternal debate: To avoid all and spare yourself from hurt, but live a life of emptiness and quiet; or to welcome the pain like an old friend, at peace and knowing you never stopped trying. Everyone chooses a side at some point, but you’re never really spared from it.

You’ve always hated the part of you that feels too deeply. The one that created stories out of strangers, wonder struck by microseconds of eye contact, then shattered when they step off the train. The one that no matter how many times was dolefully blown into the ground, it still believes in good grace and happy endings.

“So yeah… That’s basically it since the last time I saw you.” You say, twirling the small ring with the aquamarine stone that you had stopped wearing long ago. You look up to the woman sitting across from you and ask “What? You asked me how I was.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a two hour monologue.”

“Well what did you expect? Haven’t seen you in months, I needed to vent…” You fight back.

You can hear the soft scribbles of her pen for a couple minutes and you make yourself comfortable against the soft pillows that fill up most of her couch.

“So, how long has it been?” She speaks again.

“Bout a month…” You sigh.

“And have either of you tried reaching out?”

“No, I-” You take a breath and ponder over the question, the single unanswered text weighing heavy on your phone. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Besides, I’ve been too busy with my paintings and helping out with the auction. I don’t really have time for… anything else. I-I guess he’s been busy too.”

“But you still know what he’s up to?” She asks with raised brows.

You shrug with a single shoulder and chew at your thumbnail with slight nerves. “Syd talks about work sometimes, when we go out. But I think she kinda feels guilty for bringing him up. I told her it’s fine.” The woman looks at you skeptically through the small circular glasses. “I’m fine.” You half lie. “I am, it's just… The auction is this weekend and they’re catering so… I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel…”

“Because you’ll see him again?”

“...Yeah.”

The woman calls your name again and you rip your eyes from the ring on your finger, heavy inside your own head to hear her question.

“So, is your set finished?” She asks to change the conversation.

“Mhm. It only took me a couple weeks to finish but -” Your smile curls slowly at the edge of your lips. “I'm really proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear.” She whispers with a genuine smile. “You know, heartbreak can also be a beautiful thing. It’s painful, yes, but it also gives a vulnerability we don’t regularly allow ourselves. It lets us create wonderful things. It’s all part of the human experience. It truly is nice to know you’re doing better, even after going MIA for months.” She says with a practiced tone mothers use to scold you.

She schedules you in for the next month and you promise to not bail this time, then walking out the office with your bag over your shoulder and a lightweight heart. The prospect of seeing him at the auction is still heavy on your mind as you make your way to the train station and the simple thought fills your chest like a crisp breath of air. ‘He could just send Syd’ you think and you try to not engage too much with the idea in fear that it may sour your good mood. Instead you focus on your steady steps and people watching, ‘whatever happens, happens.’ you mumble under your breath.

**********

Syd’s call had pulled you from the comfort of your home before the sun was even visible over the horizon. Her worried tone had you waking up instantly and darting frantically around your darkened room in search of anything that could shield you from the increasing cold, then out the door and in the dreaded direction of The Beef.

It’s been a month since you last spoke with Carmy and even though in the grand scheme of time, it’s only a mere speck of dust, to you it had felt eternal. Small snippets blur together into one long strenuous day, piggy-backing off your grief and pushing your shoulders deeper into the ground. You had called him a few days after in hopes that you could talk things over, but it went straight to voicemail. So you left a text that you anxiously waited an answer for the following days. All of a sudden, one week turned into two, then three and before you knew it, a month had gone by without a response. You kept busy picking up most of the planning to avoid any crossing thought of him, only allowing yourself to break with your canvas in front and acrylics to spear.

You had done enough to convince yourself you were fine, that even if he were to show up tomorrow and not send Syd on his behalf, you'd be fine.

Fine. Fine. Fucking fine.

Everything was fucking fine until this morning when Syd had called to ask for help at the restaurant. Richie had been arrested, the place was a mess and they were behind on prep for the event tomorrow because they were lacking hands. Protesting would only lose you time that they did not have, so in place of that you settle to ignore the treacherous wormhole vacuuming out the few remains of confidence you had saved for tomorrow as you wait for the train that’ll leave you on River North Station.

Twenty three minutes later, you're walking at a brisk pace through the streets with a thick knot for a stomach and a growing unease. You push through the door and stop in your tracks at the shock and disarray of the place.

“What the fuck? Ugh-”

The potent smell of alcohol is the first thing that invades your nose, along with the stickiness of the floor the deeper you walk into the room. There’s solo cups scattered everywhere and half working Christmas lights hanging loosely over the walls. Some frames from the front wall lay broken, spewing shards of glass all around the tiles.

“Mi amor, qué sorpresa!” You hear Tina’s voice from behind the counter and you slowly walk towards her, the small pieces shattering under the weight of your boots.

She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Tina, what the hell happened in here?! It smells like the fuckin’ Hangover…”

“Ay baby, don’t even get me started with these knuckleheads-”

You take another woeful look around, then follow her inside as she recounts the little information Sydney gave them from the frantic phone call she had with Carmen. How they rented out The Beef for a bachelor’s and Richie had knocked out some drunk while defending Carmen’s ass. It’s strange to you, the pair’s relationship. How they were always ready to rip each other to pieces, but would jump to save the other without a second thought. They said they couldn’t stand one another, but you’re sure they’re something either can’t live without.

“So what, he’s in for aggravated assault?” You ask.

“Only if the guy wakes up.” Marcus answers with a broom in hand, sweeping away remnants of glitter and tinsel.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Could be 5 to 25 for accidental manslaughter…” Sweeps chimes in while carrying a full trash bag to the back.

Your throat closes up and behind your concern, you hear Marcus ask Sweeps how he knows so much about the matter. ‘Bro, I told you. I went to Harvard Law…’ ‘Oh yeah…’

You breathe in deep while maintaining the possibility of his release still in your mind and you head to Syd’s side, pulling your hair up into a ponytail automatically.

“Alright, brigade’s here. What d’you need?” You say after a quick hug hello.

“Guess you know more about it than I do…”

She’s flipping through the binder with all the recipes and images of the canapes they’d be serving, the one you helped Carmy assemble all those months back. Despite a few scribbles and notes at the foot of some recipes, it’s practically the same. You bend the corner lightly on the last page to find the miniature ‘C’ surrounded by purile hearts and your morning coffee grows knotty in your gut.

“Is he…” You try asking, but the sentence loses power half way through.

Syd seems to catch your drift. “No, no. He’s been down at the station since dawn.”

You nod absentmindedly with your eyes glued to the page.

“Okay, um. Marcus left the sourdough for the tapas rising all night yesterday, so we have a good start on that-” Syd began and you pull all your attention to the task at hand. “Beef’s already bracing in the oven but it’ll take a couple more hours. You can start with the ginger- tangerine compote. That’ll go on the brie.” She says, handing you one of the blue aprons.

“Alright, heard.” The words feel unnatural rolling off your tongue after being away from a kitchen for so long.

She leaves you in search of Fak, urging him to finish fixing the backed up sink in the Steward section. You drown out the bicker and hastily make your way into the walk-in, throwing the apron over your head and tying the back securely around your waist. It’s almost as if the familiar pressure unveils a dormant sensation and you soon find yourself navigating with ease through the skills you thought forgotten. The knife feels at home under your palm -heftier than a paint brush but still requires the same level of concentration- as you separate the tangerine supremes and add them to the pot holding clarified butter, sugar and rosemary leaves. Everyone works in a rhythmic but comfortable silence, a stark difference from the frantic, unmeasured mess they seemed to thrive in when you still worked here.

“Yo chef?” Marcus calls from your left.

You lift your head to him while you finish peeling the ginger. “What's up?”

“Mind tasting this for me? It’s for the gig but somethin’ bout the filling don’t feel right…”

You nod and wipe your hands on your rag, then take a bite into the miniature stuffed doughnut that doesn’t seem bigger than an Oreo. The flavors are too thick to tell them apart but the softness of the dough allows it to almost melt in your mouth.

“The dough’s perfect-“ You say between bites, the compliment blooming over his face into a grin. “How bout a different filling though, there’s a lot going on and you can’t really enjoy the texture.”

“Right!? See, that’s what I was thinkin’. Got anything in mind?”

“Mmm, you could try a chai cream filling.”

“Just milk and cinnamon, then?”

“Yes and also no” You answer with a smile. “Try to steep some black tea in milk with cinnamon and ginger. Then instead of sugar, add honey to your crème and the chai milk. It should be a little bit more runny so when it cools it doesn’t get that jelly-like consistency from the egg.” You finish then turn back to peeling off the skin of the ginger with your spoon.

Marcus is still standing beside you with a pleased smile. “You really know your stuff, huh? Thought you was burnt out.” and you lightly hit him over the arm with the back of your spoon.

“Oh, I can totally smoke your ass baker boy..” You grin.

Before he can fight back, a sudden commotion by the entrance has you lifting your head above the second level of the table and searching for the noise. The slick handle of the spoon almost slips past your hand when your eyes capture the image of two very sleep deprived Carmen and Richie walking through the staff door. You can see everyone showering them with attention, how Tina hugs Richie tight then smacks him hard over the head, but the loud ringing in your ears and the sudden rush of cold blood prevent you from moving any closer. Not that you’d want to anyway. You try to pull yourself together, wiping your clammy hands for the tenth time and watching them advance deeper into the room. Richie’s the first to spot you and true to his nature, he lets the whole room know that he’s seen you, with outstretched palms in your direction.

“Oh, shit! This a fuckin’ family reunion?!” His hand falls heavily over the crown of your head and you swat it away with a smack.

“How’s prison?”

“Oh, y'know…free food, can’t complain.”

“D’you get yourself a bitch?” You tease.

“Yeah, brought ‘em home, actually-” He says pointing back to Carmy, causing the forming grin on your face to fall when you see he’s been watching you. You pull your eyes from him and back to your cutting board. “Oh right, my bad…”

You shake your head, mumbling a sharp ‘asshole’ through gritted teeth. Richie takes off to the back and you’re finally left at peace.

You fall into a pronounced balance of chopping and continuously stirring the compote, until it reaches the needed consistency and you pull it off the fire to cool. You check it off Syd’s thoroughly organized list and scroll down to find the next task, then make your way back into the walk-in. With a bowl resting on your hip, you pick out a few pears you’ll need, then hear the creak of the metal door open and you assume it’s Syd coming in to take a breather from the frenetic kitchen.

“Yo, I’m gonna start poaching the pears. You’re out of red wine but I can run to the corner store and try to flirt with the clerk to knock a few bucks off a bottle-”

The slick bowl almost slips from your grip when your eyes catch his. A chill slithers from your neck, down your spine and wraps around your knees, rendering them uselessly immobile as Carmy just stares you down through tired lids. The room grows uncomfortably smaller with the two of you locked inside and you're afraid that he can hear the irregular tempo in your quickening pulse. You wonder if the slight shock in his brows is due to not knowing you were in there. It only flashes for a second, then his features conceal behind a curtain of indifference, making your stand straighter.

“H-hey.” He says with a feign coolness as he wraps his own apron around his waist and moves deeper into the room, as if it’s the most natural thing to find you between the inventory of his restaurant.

You turn back to the shelf so he doesn’t notice the multiple quivery inhales it takes for your voice to sound somewhat even. “Syd asked me for help, that’s why I’m here I-”

“No- yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-” He cuts himself off and takes a breath that has your wavering stare slowly inching towards him. “Thank you…”

You finally turn to him, only holding his stare for a second, then give him a tight smile and wrap both arms securely around the bowl that wants to slip from your clammy palms. His lips part and you wait for anything else to leave his mouth, maybe a ‘How’ve you been?’ or a ‘Can we talk?’. But nothing does and you try to not let it sting as much as it normally does when you get your hopes up. You take a reluctant step towards the door, then another and another, only stopping when your name vibrates in the concealed room.

“Yeah…?” You turn with a full chest.

He holds an unopened bottle of wine in your direction, face blank. “Bottom left shelf.” He says, shrugging.

“Oh. Right.” You take it without meeting his stare so he doesn’t see the grief slapped across it and quickly push yourself out the space.

You spend the better part of half an hour peeling the thin skin off the pears and letting the simmering wine and spices fill the kitchen with a strong sweetness. Carmy’s presence looms around the room as he checks in with every station on their progress, but doesn’t stop with you. All you get is a soft ‘Behind’ and the tingling sensation of his touch on your lower back as he passes by. You don’t know if it’s on purpose or not, although it doesn't really matter to the breath that stops in your throat when he does it. ‘Just finish this and you can leave.’ you repeat to yourself. Though you know you won’t, at least not until they’re up to schedule, even if every second sharing the same space withers at your soul.

You do your best to focus on your task, only talking to Tina when she gently squeezes your forearm to ask if you're okay, because your brows are glued into that permanent scowl that only displays your irritation outward.

“Yeah I, um- just got a lot on my plate.” You tell her and try to not let it trigger the tears you’ve hoarded in the back of your throat.

“No te hará sentir mejor-” She whispers to your side.

“-Probably not-”

“-pero él está igual de miserable que tú. Really baby, you should have a talk with him, y’know, straighten things out.”

“T, ni siquiera me ve a la cara…” You whisper back. “How am I supposed to straighten anything out if he won’t even look at me?”

“Ay, baby I know. But I’ve known that stubborn boy all his life and let me tell you, since he came back from Madison Square Park -or wherever the fuck-, he was all different and… bitchy. And it wasn’t ‘till you came along that he finally felt like the Carmy we all knew before… pues ya tu sabes.” She says in reference to his brother.

“You two are good for each other, but you’re both stubborn as hell… talk it out, okay? Don’t lose somethin’ good ‘cause you're stubborn.” Tina rubs your shoulder reassuringly then with a final smile. she turns yelling ‘Corner!’ and disappears behind the tall stands.

You swallow down the aching knot and distract yourself with the slippery fruit in your hands.

“Can I..?” You see his hands before hearing his voice, as he lightly places a white cutting board a few feet away from you. You eye the curves of discoloring letters above his knuckles, then force your stare back to your own working hands and shrug.

“Sure… your kitchen.”

He only nods, from your side view you see how his eyes linger on you for a few moments then fall back down. The air between you feels thick despite the music playing from the hoarse stereo and a light layer of conversation from the staff. There’s a heavy pressure over your chest that only seems to expand with every silent minute passing between you.

Then Carmy clears his throat. “How’s-uhm- your set.. for the auction?”

Confusion and irritation brew in synchronicity with your wine and you try to hide the annoyance his question brings you. He acts as if he’s just seen you the day before, as if things had ended with a friendly handshake and a mutual agreement, not with him breaking up with you and completely vanishing from your life.

“It’s fine.” You turn to the burners and stir the pot slowly to keep it from burning and also to avoid his heavy gaze.

You taste it to make sure the flavors are correct then turn back to finally finish peeling the last of your pears. Carmy stares at you like he wants to say something else, but just contemplates the seriousness of your features and the flow of your hands as you move the peeler in a frenzy. Each stroke grows closer to your skin and he just feels the need to warn you.

“Careful you’re gonna-”

“Mierda!” You hiss, dropping the handle immediately and cradling your palm under the injured one. “Hijo de puta!”

He’s by your side in a second, with his clean towel hovering under your hands and taking the fruit that you crushed involuntarily when the pain closed your fist.

“It’s fine- I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding-”

“I said I’m fine!” You pry your hand hard enough to hear a slight pop from your wrist.

Carmy’s hands fall to his sides and you divert your gaze to the floor walking to the nearest sink to clean your wound. You hiss again when the warm water hits your palm and a gash at the bottom of it is finally visible. Fucking perfect. You scrub remnants of puree and blood off, until the water runs a light pink and you're relieved to see it won’t need stitches. A gauze and some tape will suffice, so you wrap it in some paper towels to avoid dripping and march to the small office where you find the kit. The quicker you move, the faster you’ll be out of the confined space that makes you feel like a vulnerable prey. But your fingers tremble from the light sting and the edge of the wrapper isn’t cooperating with your dull nails. Tiny droplets of blood pool in the center of your palm, the frustration grows too quickly and you slam the unopened gauze flat on the desk.

“Fuck!”

‘It’s fine, you’re fine.’ The voice in your head circles through the same phrase, pretending that the sudden proximity of him didn’t unearth something you have tried so hard to bury down for the last month. You thought you could be mature enough to ignore the crushing weight settling over you with every stare, but the wisps of frigid indifference that radiated off him wrapped a tightening noose around your neck and you weren’t sure how long you had until it finally killed you.

A soft click pulls your attention from the crimson in your hand. Carmy stands with raised palms, inching slowly towards your intense glare, then reaches out a hand as if trying to help a wounded animal. Which in a way, you are and the joke forming in your mind about the bear helping a fox would be rather funny if you weren’t so immensely upset with him.

With a ragged sigh, you turn in the small space and stretch out your hand to him, eyes locking on a painting on the wall to evade his stare. You ignore the furor of goosebumps that invade your skin the second his touch is on you. Carmen’s hand holds you in the cocoon of his fist, thumb rubbing delicate circles beside the battered spot while he uses the paper towel to soak up all the blood. You reprimand your wayward beats for their reaction to his innocent touch and you have to constantly pull your wandering gaze from reaching the dangerous borders of his tightened jaw. His deep exhales fan the baby hairs resting at the bottom of your neck, his attention fixed on the small imperfection. His movements are slow, asking each muscle for permission to move the next, because having you this close after so long is a luxury he does not want to rush through, not if he’s never getting it again.

Carmy understood your anger. He could feel it radiating off you in waves that bounced in the small space, but he also understood that he’s never had enough words to properly express the turmoil of everythingness swirling constantly inside his head. He wanted to let you know how hard it had been for him too. Confess the unhealthy amount of time he was spending at the restaurant- only going home to shower then leaving again- because he was afraid of the scent of your perfume and how it lingered on every breathable space in his home… apartment- not home- at least not since you had gone.

He focuses on swabbing the sanitizing wipe tenderly in hopes that his actions can transmit what he can’t say. The alcohol makes you hiss again and his eyes flicker to your frowned brows, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’.

He only lets go to tear open the gauze and some tape, then takes you in his grasp again to wrap your palm up safely. You expect him to let go once he’s done. To create as much needed space to fit the betrayal he portrayed the last time you saw him, this would only explain why he never called back. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t look up at you either. Your stares meet on the flesh where his thumb still brushes over the blood-stained pit, your chest raises in slow puffs and the uninjured hand grips tightly over the edge hitting behind you. This is all too familiar again, right down to the brewing anxiety trickling heat into your overworked veins. You can't help but to foolishly crawl your pupils over the navy blue of his apron, past the strained tendons of his neck, the sharpness of his nose and to the beautiful blue you had missed so much.

Neither of you notice how the space has reduced to mere inches between you until his eyes flicker to yours and every single speck is bright and visible for your admiration. He swallows down hard, the Adam's apple bouncing in his throat portrays his nerves openly to you. The last reasonable, minute voice in his head tells him to pull away, but the way you’re staring up at him has his body tilting in your direction instead. Eyes wide and glossy dance around the freckles dusting his cheeks, causing his hand to float from your wrist to the dip of your waist and his forehead finally falls against yours.

You gasp in softly when his fingers dig into the center of your spine while his nose brushes along yours longingly. You can feel his sultry exhales ghost over the curve of your parted lips with doubt still present in his movements.

“Carmy…” The voice is above a whisper and you’re not sure you even have the strength to utter the sentence that’s formed in your head.

Your voice seems to trigger something in him. His jaw hardens, his fingers bunch up your shirt in a light fist and just as quickly, his grip on you loses strength and his hand falls to rest beside your fisted one. Then a grave sigh parts his chest and he takes a painful step back, unwilling to lift his eyes from the ground.

It takes a minute for you to react, then the butterflies in your stomach turn to wasps swarming in dangerous circles, unable to fly out due to the knot blocking your throat. He’s eerily silent, eyes glued to the floor to ignore your fiery glare.

“Sorry, I…”

You scoff and shake your head, blinking rapidly to pull back the tears threatening to spill with your anger.

“Screw you, Carmen.” You untie the apron as quickly as you can with your injured hand and throw it at his desk before walking out of the small room.

With strong footsteps, you take your bag from above the lockers and escape out the back. The door slams hard as you push yourself out, Carmen following behind but by the time he calls your name you’re already a couple steps ahead.

“Fox!” He yells and you spin in his direction with nothing but anger over your face.

“Listen, I’m sor-”

“No-fuck you- you don’t get to talk, alright?! It’s my turn.” He takes a step back before crashing into you, jaw locked tight and regardless of the deafening ring in your ears, you refuse to bite your tongue again.

“Look Carmy, I am truly sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier and I’m so sorry that I’m here instead of your brother- but that does not mean you get a fuck-it-all free card and get to pull shit like that!” Tears of anger trickle down your heated skin and tickle the curve of your trembling lips.

“I called you Carmy…” The words burn as they force themselves to spill out. “I called you, and I texted you and I waited cause I knew you were pissed - and you have every fuckin’ right to be- but it doesn’t give you the right to kick me out of your life one second, then act as if everything’s fine the next, cause it’s not!”

The sounds of the city have grown mute between your heavy breaths and the erratic beating in your skull. You don’t expect him to answer and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He simply stands before you, eyes glossy and brows knitted as you bare all that you kept since the last time you saw him.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re angry and whatever this is-was-” You say pointing between you. “I know it didn’t come at a right time. But I meant what I said, Bear, I do love you. So fucking much. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair of you to take it out on me cause you’re angry at him… I refuse to be collateral damage for whatever the fuck you got going on.”

The weight over your chest might have shrunk, but it didn’t make you feel any less better than before, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. You want nothing more than to run to his side and kiss away the few stray drops that nest in the corner of his red rimmed eyes. You want to hug him tight until the loose pieces of his brokenness stick back together into one whole man, but the last of logic inside you knows that it would only serve as a temporary band-aid. So instead you offer a speck of a smile, just a soft curve that doesn’t reach your teary eyes.

“I love you, Carmy. So I dunno, give me a call when you sort it out- I know it’s more of a ‘when’ than an ‘if’ situation-… I think I’m stupid enough to answer.”

Carmen watches from his frozen position as you rub the tears away with the back of your hand, then the gravel crunches under your boots and in a few seconds you disappear around the corner.

He has enough energy to slump over the crates by the wall and pull the crushed package of smokes from his back pocket. While the wisp of smoke swirls in the wind around him, he rubs his eyes until the image of your tear-soaked face blurs away behind the darkness. The gravel creeks again, heavy steps move from his left then settle with a groan beside him.

“I’m not in the mood, alright?” He says, eyes focused on the street at the end of the alley.

Richie doesn’t say anything, only takes out his own cigarette and joins his cousin in silence.

“Is there, um-” His voice is thick and wavering, barely holding on to controlled breaths. “Is there a name for… when you’re afraid of somethin’ good happening cause you think somethin’ bad’s gonna happen? ”

His thumb rubs anxiously over the same spot on his palm as he waits for Richie’s response.

“Fuck it, I dunno… life?” He takes a long drag, letting the exhale occupy the empty space in front of them. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…” Then the silence falls over them again.

When his cigarette burns out, Carmy reaches for another, but before he can settle the lighter back down, Richie pulls out a small envelope from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to him. Carmy’s reluctant to take it, his eyes flicker between his cousin and the piece of paper, then he slowly reaches out.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from your asshole brother… R.I.P and whatnot.” Is all he says.

His hand trembles again, his breath short circuits and a new wave of dread nips at the back of his neck. He swallows hard and breathes in deep, bracing himself, before turning it over. ‘This day just keeps getting better…’

Chapter 12.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat and that’s it lmao

301 notes · View notes

slavonicrhapsody · 7 months

Note

do you think that rennalas defeat dialogue implies that she knew about and supported ranni's plot, or do you think that it was just like ranni, idk like having wishful thinking i guess?

hmm I feel like there are several interpretations of Rennala’s defeat dialogue that can make sense, let’s go through a few of them…

When we “kill” Rennala, she says, “Oh little Ranni, my dear daughter. Weave thy night into being.”

Rennala’s second boss phase is not against Rennala herself, but against some kind of complicated projection spell of Rennala in her prime made by Ranni… so we could interpret all of Rennala’s actions in this phase as not her own actions, but the actions of Ranni’s illusion of her. With this in mind, regarding Rennala’s defeat dialogue, it makes sense to infer that Ranni is putting words in her mother’s mouth, or rather “programming” her to say these lines. Sticking with this idea, I think on Ranni’s end there’s two different interpretations we can make:

Ranni is engaging in wishful thinking, as you said, and is imagining these lines as something her mother might say to her, or something she wishes her mother would say to her if she were still coherent and could be with her to support her and her plans.

Or…

Rennala actually did say these lines in the past, and Ranni is “quoting” her. This might make a ton of sense actually, because Ranni’s projection of Rennala is from a bygone age when Rennala used to be capable and strong, and someone Ranni really admired as both her mother and her mentor. So if Ranni is evoking a past version of Rennala that she clearly misses dearly, she might also recall words of love and encouragement that Rennala said to her in this past era. We know that when Ranni was young, she encountered her dark moon “led by the hand of her mother, Rennala.” I can see Rennala’s defeat dialogue as something she had said to young Ranni about following her destiny led by the dark moon. Whether this dialogue might refer to a vague destiny of bringing about the magic of the dark moon (just as Rennala brought about the magic of the full moon), or if it refers to Ranni’s specific plotting to bring about her Age of the Stars, remains to be seen. But to answer your question, I lean towards Rennala referring more to Ranni’s potential power to bring about an age of the night (perhaps as a potential god-queen) rather than Ranni actually letting her in on her schemes. I doubt Rennala would be quite coherent enough to understand at the point that Ranni began plotting, and I personally don’t think that Ranni would want her mother to know about what she had planned… because it would be dangerous for her to know, devastating to know what Ranni would end up doing to herself, and she might be afraid that her mother would be horrified by the ruthless nature of her plans.

One more idea I had is that Rennala’s defeat dialogue isn’t actually coming from Ranni’s projection, but it’s the real present-day Rennala speaking through the projection… as if Rennala heard her daughter’s voice and gained a moment of clarity where she calls out to her.

I think of these interpretations, my favorite is probably the “Ranni is quoting past Rennala” one… but every single option is emotionally devastating, so take your pick!

#elden ring #rennala #ranni #asks

82 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 9 months

Text

Aspects of Rex's / Kid Math's character I really love

The thrilling sequel to my Becky / WordGirl character post, I guess

WordGirl "plays" with her villains in a way that Kid Math just does. not. get. I love how single-minded he is and how he still doesn't pick up on that attitude despite multiple attempts to explain it to him. In his mind, superhero work is serious business...

He just straight-up crushes Two-Brains' ray gun between his palms with this smug look on his face.

There is not an ounce of fear in his body... Always ready to get his hands dirty fighting crime.

He's constantly beaming and putting his hands on his hips. Service with a smile. The only service he provides is teaching times tables and kicking your butt.

That completely unnecessary spin he does when demonstrating how to add "a million plus a million."

WordGirl tries to call a time out on her battle with Two-Brains to talk to Kid Math and he just floats there with a dopey smile :) He doesn't really "get" calling time outs, but he's also a good boy who's ready to listen and chit-chat.

Got gushy and excited when he and WordGirl found out their planets are in the same solar system. Look at him.

Will cheerfully help you with any math equation regardless of how simple it may be... He might be destructive, but he's not mean. He'd be such a kindhearted math tutor; doesn't make you feel bad. He loves numbers and wants everyone else to love them too. This boy is made of pudding and love. Could kill you in the streets; a cinnamon roll with your math sheets.

WordGirl's backstory is that she snuck aboard Huggy's spaceship and startled him into crash-landing on Earth. Kid Math's backstory is that he took a spaceship for a joy ride. Where did he get it? Can he legally drive? Do his parents know he's roaming space? He answers none of this, but he makes a point to imply he was goofing off slkdjf

The hand motions he makes while acting things out during stories... He makes driving motions, he makes stick-snapping motions; he's great. It really makes him feel like this very visual and emotive person which plays so well against the usual stereotypes of logical people (cold, harsh, rude)... He's a friendly guy who just also wants to piledrive you into the asphalt. Love that for him.

I love the little ways he kicks his feet... I love when he tucks one foot behind his other leg... I love his unique little body language quirks.

WordGirl tries to shoo Kid Math away by saying that Fair City "already has a superhero," while she's dressed as WordGirl, after already stating she's from Lexicon, while she is flying, after Kid Math interrupted "an epic battle between good and evil," and he REALLY looked her in the eye and asked who the superhero she's referring to is sdklfj. The glare she gives him leaves me chortling every time.

"It's ME, you absolute coconut."

He's so brokenhearted when Becky doesn't respond enthusiastically to him showing up at school...

He can see through Becky's civilian disguise and it was so obvious to him that he thought it was a joke.

That one little fist pump he does when Becky's super exasperated with him and starts walking off... His excitement cannot be dampened.

Brags about raisins. That's just... such a weird trait. This child will brag about everything from his home planet to himself to snacks.

He just wants to be praised... Give him attention, plz.

Made a point of clarifying that he was still willing to fight Doctor Two-Brains "even though he has a number in his name" as though he assumed WordGirl would worry about that being a problem.

I feel like there's so much loaded in every line of dialogue... like how he specifically says "Is [Doctor Two-Brains] a villain who has a 'thing?'" which really drives home this idea that Kid Math came to Earth fully prepared for superhero duties; he constantly puts up this image of a guy who knows what he's doing even though it's blatantly obvious that he just bumbles into things and I love that.

He is SUCH a know-it-all but he's also, like. a child. And he's such an interesting foil for Tobey, who's a very emotional character. Tobey is a "hot and reactive" boy genius, Kid Math is a "cool and calculating" boy genius. They would drive each other up the wall, I think.

You never see Rex get angry... He always holds his cool. He doesn't speak up when WordGirl consistently slam-dunks him to the floor. He just quietly picks himself up. He doesn't protest when she shoves him out of frame. He doesn't yell, complain, or break down. Even when he and WordGirl disagree, he'll ask for more information, clearly explain the reasoning behind his thoughts, or he'll switch topics. He's very young, but very non-confrontational... and you get the sense that he'd be proud of that if you told him so because he cares a lot about his image and he has such pride in being logical.

He makes one grumble while defending himself for falling for the "Look behind you" act ("it means there's something notable to see") but he just kinda lets Becky push him around... She's not truly being mean, she's just trying to help, and he just yields to her. She's his guide even though he insists that they're equals :) She's his mentor and friend.

There is so much trust in his heart even though he knows basically nothing about her except the fact that her home planet shares a solar system with his. He's so innocent... Not yet burned by the world.

Kid Math bumbles through his words a lot, but his heart and actions are always good-natured... Certified good boy...

He gushes so much over the idea of being adored... He wants love and recognition, your honor.

His idea of showing WordGirl affection was to punch her, sdljkf... He taps her twice as though making sure she "gets it." She reacts strongly, looking like she's ready to slam dunk him again before the security alarm interrupts. At the end of the episode, WordGirl smiles and returns the gesture by elbowing him twice and I love that parallel. Tap tap.

I really like that moment where WordGirl and Kid Math both flinch and check in with each other after hearing the security alarm... It's such a good way to show that they both have the same powers and they're both trying to be on the same page even though she was literally in the process of yelling at him.

Okay this is less about Kid Math's character and more about the episode, but I LOVE how Kid Math ends up in a mousetrap / goop ray combo trap similar to the one WordGirl faced when fighting Two-Brains for the first time in "Squeaky's Machine." The scene explicitly draws attention to the fact that WordGirl is "too experienced" to fall for the early tricks she used to in her younger days, and it highlights Kid Math's inexperience by showing him falling for those tricks, and he's in the same trap... I just think that was a clever parallel.

I really like the dynamic of the ray gun scene where Two-Brains tries to explain Superheroes 101 to Kid Math and KM just sits there like:

That painful delay where Kid Math is staring down a laser gun that will turn him into goop and it takes a very long moment for him to ask for help sdlkfj

The look of shock on his face combined with his little finger splay when he realizes that WordGirl actually DID save him... Slowly processing how close he just came to death, slowly processing what it's like to have someone there for him... Buddy system.

(Also I think it's funny that the cage the henchmen put Kid Math in is smaller than the cage they put WordGirl in... He is little.)

He's constantly in the "on" number brain... He'll just scream "That's a prime number!" or "Two stores!" or mumble "You just said 16 words" or "That's a fraction!" and I think it's hilarious. He just really, really likes numbers... He is, undeniably, the Living Calculator.

I think it's funny that Kid Math's speed trail is glittery while WordGirl's isn't. I feel like she'd be jealous of his sparkles.

WordGirl tends to fly in squiggly motions but Kid Math flies in arcs... just a little detail that I think is cute. WordGirl is such a flighty, indecisive, back and forth person. Kid Math knows exactly who he is, what he wants, and where he's going.

WordGirl tries explaining why Kid Math needs to be careful and his immediate response is to accuse her of being manipulative... Rex, are you okay? Buddy, lower your emotional walls slkdjf

Okay but. Can we talk about that. Can we talk about how Rex was super hype to see WordGirl at school, he was SO READY to have a friend, but his worldview is so painfully black and white that he can't help calling her out on what he considers immoral behavior.

Rex sees nothing wrong with his destructive "You can't have crime if you don't have a city" ideas but he draws the line at lying. From Rex's POV, this is an episode about WordGirl pulling him from his straight and narrow Hexagonian lifestyle and into the morally gray zone. That's SO funny.

Double fist pump when he gets invited to WordGirl's house.

I cannot get over how perfect it is that he wears his superhero costume underneath his civilian clothes... I know Becky does that too but Rex is so blatant about it and it's such a good design choice. Everything about his outfit is a good design choice- I love how he's so similar to WordGirl but has his own unique style, from his eye mask to the way he flies. He's not just a re-skin of the existing hero... He's his own person with his own life, his own design. He's so good.

The progression of Kid Math's attitude from "Huh??" to "Uh-oh, I'm in trouble" in the different scenes when Becky pushes him off screen... He just looks so much more scared the second time... He knows he's disappointing her but he just doesn't understand why. Help him.

WordGirl gave Kid Math two "Let's talk about why this isn't okay" conversations about him blowing his cover and he still said "There's no reason not to tell everyone" skldjf. It's obvious he respects her and values her and wants to learn, but he also will just... Not Do That.

Rex resisting the idea of a secret identity so goshdang hard..... He absolutely doesn't want to be a "regular kid." Honestly fair.

Him...

He's clearly very smart, including knowing the definitions to several words (which he can even define himself, which a lot of characters in this show don't do)... Tried testing a Lexiconian by quizzing her on a definition with the most smug face imaginable... His response to a Lexiconian named WordGirl correctly defining a word was "Not bad."

idk something about the way Rex specifically uses phrases like "get away" [to walk away from adults] and "give up" [to go home and eat dinner] is very... hm. The fact that he didn't know what "hint" means... Someone please teach this boy that it's okay to ask for help and that he doesn't need to run away; there is such an aura of Big Yikes energy around him...

Realized that WordGirl had a catchphrase, so he attempted one himself and it was just "MATH!"

And he looks so disgruntled when WordGirl brushes it off and tells him he'll figure out something better later sdklfj...

The cheerful way he waves at Two-Brains before their fight.

Rex attempts the secret identity thing and still messes up in every conceivable way. He's actually worse at maintaining a secret identity after WordGirl introduced him to the concept, which he TRIES to tell her by pointing out that for him, "it's easier to just be a superhero all the time," and... man idk.

There's so much we can say about WordGirl trying to force Kid Math to fit inside her superhero box when he clearly doesn't want to. She has this perfect ideal of "peaceful family life" and this separation of hero and civilian identities. She takes those things for granted because she's always had her family.

Rex is new to Earth. He doesn't have the luxury of parents who care about him, but she tries to push these ideas of "Eating dinner in peace" and "So you can sneak away and fight crime without anyone worrying about you" on him anyway...

Rex doesn't need to divide his life and put up a secret identity front. He already has no one worrying about him. He's new to this planet. He has nothing. No one. He doesn't want her lifestyle, but she doesn't try to work with him and help him find something that works for him - y'know, like how there are tons of villains who don't have secret identities and they live perfectly normal lives - and instead she just tries to stick Rex in the "you need a secret identity because I have one and I know best" box... Man, I love their dynamic so much. She has no idea she's playing with fireworks, that Rex could explode over this... He's just polite and sweet and good, even though he totally doesn't want her life and he totally disagrees. Ugh, I love him.

The way he clasps his hands during his one little "Sorry I helped a villain" apology...

He's just so expressive with his hands; we love to see it.

Even though he clearly knows Two-Brains is the enemy, he still follows his instructions... He thrives on "being good."

WordGirl told Kid Math he needs to "build suspense for the audience" and his immediate reaction was to pretend he doesn't have arms. Then he played dead by flopping over, sticking out his tongue, and crossing his eyes. I love him so much.

Offered to get back inside the cage when he noticed WordGirl was glaring at him.

His random backflips... He's so playful...

I'm sorry I just find it funny that WordGirl basically told him to go to his room and chill out... She sent him to his spaceship sdfklj

WordGirl: "If the villains knew my secret identity, they would never leave me alone" -- Kid Math: /rolls eyes

LAUNCHES himself into a scene... just. Springs in. Top speed. His favorite way to enter a conversation.

"Hello there, Earth kids! I'm sure not Kid Math at all!! :) Boy, isn't it crazy that neither one of us is a superhero from the Planet Hexagon?? What are the odds?? :)" Who wrote this dialogue, it's my absolute favorite. He's a child. Rex is so incredibly smart, but he's also just Like That.

He just really loves floating... He'll babble to you and start floating in the air, slowly rotating upside-down. He'll sometimes just go up and then down again... He likes floating. We never see WordGirl doing that, so I love how there's another character with the power to fly and he uses it to, like... express himself. Just part of his body language.

He literally makes this face while talking about his plan to destroy the city and I love him so much slkdjf

He even planned it out, right down to citing "amazing superpowers" as the reason that "No one would be able to stop them." Crying.

Seriously can we talk about the fact that Becky tried to stop him by saying "We can't destroy the city!" and in her mind it was obvious that she was talking about the moral reasons why they shouldn't do that, but Rex literally replied "Sure we can!" because he was only thinking about the logistics... it's so good. Show don't tell me that your alien is a product of his ultra-logical culture. Fantastic. No remarks.

His fantasy of tearing down the city includes him getting a high-five from WordGirl... Someone PLEASE give this boy healthy levels of attention; he wants to be someone's hero so badly.

WordGirl tried explaining that hurting people is wrong and he still wouldn't let the idea go, I canNOT with him... he's such a card.

Specifically, I need to emphasize that WordGirl checked in to make sure Rex was on the same page that mass destruction is wrong and he was like "Sure okay whatever" and then immediately got excited about... an alternate but equally destructive daydream. His little "Oooh!!" and the way he taps his finger against his lips kills me.

He's just such a playful little kid... He painted Violet's nose green for absolutely no reason... He's SO wild and dangerous and I love that, but he's kept in check by his innocent desire to be a playful little kid and I love that too.

Went to art class and painted... a math equation.

That shy little kick he does when Violet compliments him and he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets; he is SO weak for words of affirmation... Help him.

"Compliments make Earthlings feel good :) ... Which I am!! An Earthling! Not Kid Math!!"

Every little bit of his body language is SO GOOD...

I like how Becky and Bob have only known Rex for three days and the moment he starts stuttering and hesitating while trying to come up with an excuse for where he was running off to, Bob just... facepalms and Becky winces; they have no faith in this kid slkdjf.

Kid Math thanks Two-Brains for giving him a compliment on his witty banter, then checks over his shoulder to see WordGirl's reaction... She gives him a thumbs up.

All those little moments where he jolts and clutches his fists against his chest.

"Did you know about this?? >:/ " about something WordGirl could not possibly have known about.

Narrator presents two options and Kid Math says "I choose both." Can you even imagine arguing with the all-knowing voice in the sky.

Entire city is about to be turned into goop and Kid Math still stops WordGirl and wants to trade the hero task she gave him with one that he likes better... He's such a CHILD.

I like how we still saw him out and about in his superhero costume during "Time Out With Two-Brains..." just doing his own little thing. Living his best life, didn't give up his dreams.

Also he just has the best little background poses:

After an entire episode of chasing love and adoration, he gets to hear the crowd cheer for him and he's so dang excited :) Good for him!!

Fully owns up to his mistakes, but also never apologizes for anything (apart from the minor suggestion he made to improve Two-Brains' plan...) Man, he is certainly one of the hero kids who has ever been. Disaster of a cinnamon roll.

Anyway I love him.

#He's everything to me #Kid Math #WordGirl #Grammar queen #Arithmetic Lad #Long post #LexiHexa duo #Doctor 2B #Satirical vocab alien child show #Space monkey #screenshots

59 notes · View notes

hydrangeyes · 6 months

Text

love language

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

lego monkey king character love languages

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

Wukong:

- It's physical touch

- like come on it's so obvious frfr this man is emotionally constipated

- that and gifts of any kind

- one day you get a shiny rock the next he's giving you an ancient and precious golden pendant or something

- more times than not you can find each other cuddling and sun bathing on his island or temple

- if he's feeling particularly soft or something that is when he speaks up, pulling you aside to play with your fingers as he nervously asks if you know just how much he loves you. (This def feels more constant after the lbd deal)

- at first it was sweet but towards the 3rd hour of him describing everything you basically kiss him silent

- work out around him and all that goes through his head is "buddah I'm so very gay, gay gay gay, my mate is so fucking hot."

- I whole heartily believe he would recite that audio of spike saying "I love a person who can beat him up, I want it to get embarrassing." Just towards you and it's so fucking funny.

Macaque:

- He's vocal and physical.

- vocal in a round about way but def the type to fuss when you have to get up from the cuddle pile for even a sec

- feel like Mac would recite poetry or lines from a play

- will beat someone up for you, a single frown and he's already plotting murder

- in turn melts when you give him a kiss anywhere

- his favorites are on the cheek

- anyway, he wouldn't give you gifts unless its during festivals and such, very much a practical use gift giver

- he doesn't want there to be any doubt that he loves you and knows you love him, and if there's a smidgen of doubt he's blunt in asking

- Besides sandy idk why but probably the most to be very hands down "communication is key" in the relationship

- idk why but he likes hanging or being on your shoulders, whether your short or talk my dude, he's on your shoulders in some way

Tang:

- I head canon he's demi on all accounts cause I want too, so everything starts as friendship

- as time goes he starts dragging you about to his fav places to eat or snack

- seems like the type to bring you back really good food

- he can't cook for shit but he just found this new food place and thinks you might like it

- in a non yandere way keeps tabs on everything you enjoy

- so I guess also a gift giver

- the gifts are food (I would say folklore books but I feel like that's more something you give him and you both read it together)

- hard to say what else as I've convinced my mind that tang is happily married (platonic or not) to pigsy and then both dating sandy, speaking of which-

Sandy:

- everything, he's a giver

- cuddles, gifts, kisses, cooking you meals, talking

- sandy I feel is very loving, just a big old cheese ball

- Just imagining him waking you up with a kiss on the forhead and the smell of your favorite tea and breakfast, mo purr on the bed as you guys talk about what to do today

- I def wanna say he's definitely a "look at my awesome handsome boyfriend/fiancee/husband/partner!" Will Smith pose style

- leaves stick notes of love letters and I love yous everywhere when he is in a rush for work or helping the gang somewhere

Pigsy:

- Easy

- he cooks you meals, he's great at it and it's something he's most confident in

- not just any but handmade and usually family recipes he doesn't make for the shop

- Spending time to show you how to make his family recipes

- a "Why would I buy you chocolates when I can make you chocolate from scratch for sweethearts day?"

- the calmest around you, not that you mind when he's being passionate (about hobbies and a new recipe he's thought of)

- his secret taste tester, before tang he let's you try all the new meals he has planned

- he tries to flirt but he sucks at it, you are kinda into that, it's cute

- He's very vocal but nervous when it comes to affection but gives it in abundance

- the way he proposes is asking if you wanna help parent mk

- if you ever fight (usually on work and taking breaks), you both give each other the silent treatment; pigsby usually caves first (hes hot headed but once he cools down its liek why was i even mad???) and goes to talk things out, usually the shop is closed next day and you both are on a date

#male reader #x male reader #Lmk x male reader

32 notes · View notes

eirabach · 21 days

Text

An End Has a Start [1/1]

An episode coda for 7x04. Bucktommy with implied Buddie, rated T for language. Also on ao3.

You don't work for the city, any city, for long before you realize there's a lot of money changing hands. Money that possibly, even probably, shouldn't even be in the possession of the first pair of hands, never mind wherever it ends up. It's just part of the daily drag of poverty wage civil servants; watching men in tailored suits gamble with their jobs and lives and communities, rolling the dice on whether the local elementary really needs a pool when their own pockets are only triple lined.

All of which is to say: politicos gamble.

Firefighters gamble more.

And from the moment Lucy had clocked Tommy's new and sudden interest in hanging out off duty with the 118 she'd had opinions.

Opinions that used to make Tommy laugh, but now, actually – kinda don't.

“You're late,” she says. She's sitting with her elbows propped up on the canteen table, a plate of greasy fries and half eaten sandwich in front of her, and with a twenty dollar bill dangling loose from two fingers that he very studiously ignores.

Tommy makes a show of checking his watch as he drops into the seat opposite her.

“By – oh, one minute!” He reaches over to steal a fry, but she slaps his hand away. “Crosstown traffic.”

Lucy hums. “Still a minute later than Mr Military usually is. You were crosstown?”

“You my mother?” He hooks a fry from the edge of the plate. “Yeah, I was crosstown. I had basketball with Eddie today.”

“And that's all you've been up to?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes are glinting, her smile slyly fox-like. She's his best friend in this place and a walking fucking nightmare.

"He's got a girlfriend," he says for what feels like the hundredth time this week.

Lucy narrows her eyes and rips another bite from her sandwich.

"And? You had a girlfriend once."

Tommy concedes by nodding and swiping another fry from her plate.

"I did," he hums, letting his eyes go all glassy and wiping a fake tear from under his eye. "And she had a seven inch dick. I miss that girl."

Lucy rolls her eyes. "Besides the fucking point. So Diaz has a girlfriend so you think he's straight? This is bisexual erasure, Thomas."

Tommy doesn't think anything about Eddie, actually. It's not his place. Not when there's a girl with a pretty smile and nothing to say watching him leave night after night. Not when there's the faintest tang of beer still lingering at the corner of his mouth, the ghost of stubble against his lip, any thoughts at all struggling to surface from the sheer, thrilling oh of hearing your attention.

"If I could erase you, Donato, I would have done it years ago."

Lucy sticks her tongue out, crumbs and all, and he throws the half chewed fry in her smirking face.

"Buckley's single," she offers, chucking it straight back. "And kinda easy. In a cute way."

Tommy scoffs, but he must pause for a half breath too long first because Lucy's eyes go wider than he thinks he's ever seen them, the twenty fluttering from her fingers as she slams her hands down on the table between them.

“Buckley?! Christ.” She sits back, blowing her fringe off her forehead with an exaggerated huff. “Well damn. I'm not surprised, I guess.”

Tommy takes a deep breath. “I think – I think he was. So don't –.” Tell. God, he really thought those days were behind him.

“Who the fuck do you take me for?” Lucy asks, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Tommy offers her a sarcastically sympathetic head tilt. “Gee, I don't know. Someone who's been betting on whether I'd fuck his taken best friend?”

She rolls her eyes extravagantly. “Please. That's different. Diaz always looked at me like I'd crapped in his bed. Buck's sweet.”

Tommy reaches out and pockets the twenty. “If you say so. I'll take this as an apology shall I?”

Lucy's nose crinkles up in disgust. “Put it towards your medical bills when Diaz finds out you've touched his man, that's all I'm saying.”

Tommy narrowly avoids sticking his tongue out at her. “Believe it or not, we're actual grown adults. Eddie's not going to have a problem with it.”

Lucy laughs, and it must send bits of half masticated sandwich the wrong way because she launches into a coughing fit so violent Tommy sees a couple of the paramedics' heads pop up from their hiding places like so many meerkats with medical fetishes.

“Jesus Christ,” she moans once she's caught her breath. “Rather you than me.”

Tommy quite agrees, honestly, because he's had exactly thirty four seconds of Evan Buckley’s mouth and he's already not particularly inclined to share, but he waits for her to knock back a couple of gulps of Powerade because he's a good friend.

He thinks he's a good friend.

He wants to be.

“You think – you think he will have a problem with it?”

Lucy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and sighs.

“I think the 118 is – a different kind of place to what maybe we're used to, you know? When I first started there I thought it would be great, and it was, but I never – I never really got it. The family history.” She shakes her head. “Diaz wasn't even there then. And yet he was everywhere. ” She fixes Tommy with the same sharp, searching look he's used to seeing beside him in the air. “I don't think it's going to be good for you.”

I don't think Buck's going to be good for you, she doesn't say, but Tommy's been closeted longer than he's been out. He's learned to read between the lines. To know when to lean in. When to back away. When it's his lips or his mouth or his teeth or his fists he needs to be quick with.

Evan's aren't the first pair of pretty blue eyes he's ever seen go shocked and wet and desperate. And maybe Evan's ribcage is going to be far from the last he's felt still and shudder and expand under his hand. Maybe he's setting himself up for the inevitable fall of being first.

Maybe, in the most important ways, in the ways that matter, he isn't first at all.

But it's not his place to ask. And if he doesn't ask – well. He can't see that Eddie's ever going to tell.

And sometimes, hey. It's better to seek forgiveness than permission. Fake mouth static or no.

He pulls the twenty back from his pocket, and adds another on top. Just because he can. Because he wants.

Because he's a minute late, but damn. What a minute.

“Wanna bet?”

#911 spoilers #bucktommy #buddie #implied #911 abc #clare vs writers block

18 notes · View notes

hertzwritings · 2 years

Text

Clothes

A/N: WELP, I might be developing arthritis in my fingers from all the typing, but I DON’T CARE. I am literally so happy that you guys are involved with my stuff, and I constantly look at replies, reblogs and screenshots of asks, because they make me feel all giddy and happy. Anyway, onwards with the prompts! Also this prompt was requested by the sweet @daughterofautumn – THANK YOU.

Prompt: “Undress or I’ll do it for you.”

You can buy me a coffee here and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic. It would help me immensely, because bills are a bitch and I have to buy diapers and food. Seriously, anything can help.

Love y’all so much! Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

MASTERLIST

PROMPTLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus sized!female reader

Contains: Language, fluff, smut (18+, MINORS DNI), fingering, p in v, oral (f + m receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cream-pie, praise kink, loving, fluffy, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, slight dirty talk, SEXUAL TENSION UP THE HOOHA

W.C.: 4.496 (sorry)

Clothes

“Henry, move again and I’ll stab you on purpose.” He chuckled but kept still - arms out and his eyebrow cocked at you. You shook your head and began slowly pinning the pants, so they kept the shape, hoping to God that this was the last pair you had to fix. “You should stop working out so much. I’ve never had to repair this many pairs of leather pants before.” You grumbled, smoothing the fabric over his shin to make sure it sat right. It was the fourth pair over the last two weeks alone, he had misshaped with his stupidly thick thighs. “Please, you love my company. And thighs.” He said with a small laugh. Well, yes, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Remind me to tell budgeting that we need like… A million just for leather, so I can make new pants every hour.” You grinned at him and stood up, looking over your handiwork. They’d fit if he didn’t do squats in them. “Thank you. You’re literally magic.” He said softly. His eyes were full of praise, and you felt heat radiating from your cheeks. “Oh, pish, posh. It’s my job, Henry. I should be thankful that you keep mucking up your costumes, so I can keep working, really.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” Silence fell between you, and you glanced at the clock. “Shit, you need to go. Get behind the partition and slowly take the pants off. I will not hesitate to murder you if you get a single pin out of its place.” You said, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” He stepped down from the podium and went behind the partition; he was tall enough for his head to stick out on top. “Any fun plans for the night?” He asked, bending down. You tried not to think too much about what he wasn’t wearing right now (“I can’t wear briefs underneath these pants, the lines are too obvious!”) and answered with a somewhat level voice. “Oh, uh… Nothing, actually.” You licked your lips and his head shot up, eyes locking on you. “Wait, didn’t you have a thing with the…” He pursed his lips. “What’s-his-name?” You rolled your eyes. “Roger. And I did, but he… Yeah, no, it didn’t work out. He would much rather only see me in private.” You sighed. “What?” He asked. “Well, I think his words were something along the lines of… We have fun, but you’re just not one you’d take for a stroll through the city, are you? But you’re super sexy… Ish.” You grimaced. “Holy shit.” You nodded, although he couldn’t see you. “It is what it is. I dumped him, and here I am.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” He said with a shit-eating grin, not looking sorry at all before stepping out, now dressed again, and handed you the pants; he towered over you, and you tried your best to keep yourself in line. “It is… It’s not like I would have time to date at any rate, I’m here all the time.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. “Well… I guess it’s a good thing, then.” He said, gathering his swords. “Why is my lack of a love-life a good thing?” You asked with a smile. He turned to face you, and his thumb stroked down your cheekbone in a way, that made your breath hitch and knees wobble. “Then I get to keep you around.” He winked at you. “See you later!”

Your strange, sort of flirty friendship with Henry had started the same day, you began working on set. You had walked into the wardrobe-trailer, hands full of yards of fabric for a new dress, and nearly tumbled to the ground, when you ran straight into a very firm body. Henry had caught you with a hand around your waist. “Thank you for catching me.” You said breathlessly, not even trying to get back on your feet. “If I’m the cause of you falling like this…” He grinned. “Anytime, darling.”

And thus, a friendship was born. You didn’t fool yourself into thinking there was anything in it from his side other than casual friendship – especially after he had brought a woman to set once, his arm locked around her at all times, he wasn’t in a scene. She was the size of a stick, and wonderfully fit, which stood in stark contrast to your own body; you felt lumpy at the best times, and like an absolute piece of blob at the worst times. It was fine, really. You could be happy enough for what you did have with Henry because he was an absolute joy to be around. He was laid back, funny as hell and attentive – every time there was a late-night shoot, he brought you coffee and some kind of snack, he had made himself. Cookies, brownies, anything really, and he did it just because he wanted to. At least, that’s what he said. You wondered a few times if it was because of your body, he only brought sugary snacks, but quickly learned that the man himself had the biggest sweet tooth, you’d ever seen. He could inhale a whole tray of brownies in less than two minutes, and he carried gummies in his costumes, which you had scolded him for once, when he had been a little too closer to a bonfire and the gummies had practically melted into the leather.

He spent a lot of time in your trailer. At first, there was issues with his armor. Then something got messed up. Then he had accidentally fallen on his beautiful ass in a puddle of mud, and then, when he ran out of excuses, he just said that he wanted to be somewhere he felt comfortable. It was nice. He was nice.

“Y/N?” A voice called from the very back of the trailer. “Yeah, I’m in front!” You called back, waiting for Abby to come out of the many layers of clothing on racks. Her hair was a mess and she looked like she was about to collapse, carrying five different costumes carefully. “God, sometimes I think I should’ve chosen a different career path. I’m dying.” She grumbled, laying the costumes on the work bench, straightening up and rubbing her round belly. “Abby, you know you can just call for me, and I’ll do all that. That’s like… 80 % of my job.” You said with a small smile, gently coercing her to a chair. She sat down with a grunt and closed her eyes. “You’re lucky you get off so early today.” “Oh, you’ve got another night?” You asked sympathetically. She nodded. “Abby, I’m serious… You’re seven months pregnant, you shouldn’t be working lates.” She opened one eye to look at you. “I don’t have any plans, it’s supposed to be pickups and I really wouldn’t mind taking the shift.” “Are you sure? Every time we say it’s going to be pickups, they end up overloading us. I wouldn’t want to leave you behind…” You waved your hand at her. “Stop it. I’m capable. At most things, actually. I think I can handle one late shoot.” She smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver.” You shrugged. “No problem. Go home, Abby, I don’t want you to overwork yourself and push a kid out in the wardrobe trailer.” You grinned at her and helped her to her feet. She hugged you. “I’ll be back on Monday, okay?” You nodded. “And if there’s any issues, call me…” “Abby. I’m not going to call you. I have both Pieter and Susan on emergency, if a problem should arise.” She sighed. “Fine. Okay, enjoy your weekend of work!” You waved her off with a laugh, pulling the iron out of the closet.

You had been wrong. It was indeed a late night, but it was extremely busy. Apparently, every single costume had decided to break, or the team wanted last minute changes, and you were working triple-time. You were sweating, breathing like you had just run a damn marathon and your eyes were growing weary, when they finally called wrap.

You were absolutely done, but the universe had different ideas.

“Y/N, sorry to keep you, but Henry’s damned shirt ripped again.” You whined. “Nooooo…. I was just going home!” You wanted to cry. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?” The P.A looked at you with I’m sorry written all over their face. “Sorry, honey. He’ll be here in five.” You waved your hand. “Yeah, yeah…” You stomped around the trailer, gathering the supplies and muttering to yourself, when the door swung open again and a muddy, slightly tired Henry stepped inside, resting his swords on the side of the work bench, and made to step further inside. “Hold it. You are not walking in here, among silk with those damned boots on.” You pointed at them, covered in mud that still dripped slowly from the top. His wig was off, but he was still covered in the makeup, a few lines of fake blood and dirt on his cheekbones and chin. “Sorry.” He quickly pulled them off and threw them outside. “All good?” “Fine. You can come up here.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Are you okay, love?” He asked worriedly, as he stepped up on the podium. “Long day. Lot of work. Not enough hands.” You looked at him with a tired smile. “If I have to fix your shirt, you need the armor off.” He just held his arms out. “Henry…” He looked at you with a smirk. “Undress, or I’ll do it for you.” You threatened. “Is that a promise?” He asked, his voice lower than before. You grunted and got on your knees, slowly unfastening the different clasps and strings along the armor on his legs, pulling them off one by one. He cleared his throat when your fingers grazed his inner thigh. “Damn it, I can’t get to the last ones without doing the top…” You sighed. “Okay, just… Hold your arms out, I want to go home.” You said with a yawn, and thankfully, Henry listened – you might be tired, and you may not be in the mood for anything, but you were painfully aware of how close you were going to have to be to him, and how great he smelled. It was actually kind of rude to smell that nice, like pine-trees and vanilla, when he’d been running around set, swinging swords in the mud. “How did you, uh… Ruin the shirt?” You asked, looking everywhere but his eyes. If you caught his eyes, you were not going to be able to control yourself, and you were just friends. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” He whispered, his lips dangerously close to your ear, as your fingers slowly untied two strings, holding his shoulder piece in place. Your breathing was shallow. “Oh?” You were whispering too, now. “I didn’t. I just wanted an excuse to come over here.” You swallowed thickly and removed another piece, the strings falling limply from your fingers. Heat was radiating off of him. “Then… Why am I removing your armor?” You asked breathlessly. His arms curled, the sound of leather straining against leather echoing in your ears, and they finally embraced you tentatively, fingers resting on the small of your back. “Because you wanted to see me too.” He answered confidently. You didn’t know what to say to that. You unclasped one of the clasps along his ribcage, opening the armor a sliver. You could feel his warm skin under the thin layer of his shirt. “And… I think that maybe…” His fingers were warm against your lower back, slowly scrunching the fabric of your dress. “You’ve been too scared to say anything.” “You haven’t either.” You replied. The tension was thick enough to leave a tangy taste on your tongue as pieces of his armor fell away from his body, leaving more and more of him exposed; or, at least, in a very thin shirt and leather pants. “No, I haven’t.” You still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I suppose I was… Worried.” He drew a deep breath, when the final piece of his armor fell away, thudding loudly on the floor between your feet. “About?” You asked feebly. He drew a little closer, barely noticeable to the outside world, but to you? It felt as if he had traveled an insurmountable distance, the damned earth had shifted and shrunk and widened all at the same time. “You. Me. How you see me. How I didn’t want to ruin a friendship.” Your fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirts, not really sure if you should unbutton them. “And? What did you…?” You trailed off. You didn’t know if you really wanted the answer. “I would sell my soul to the devil himself, if that meant I could have you for just a minute. That’s what I found out.” You closed your eyes at his confession. “Henry, I…” You bit your lip. “I’m…” “What? You’re what? Too beautiful, too real, too…” His one hand found your cheek, cupping it. “Entirely too good for me? Trust me, I’ve already thought about it. But I am, at heart, a very stubborn man, and I have a very hard time letting go of something so beautiful.” You finally found the strength to look at him and wish you hadn’t.

His eyes were burning hotly into you, darkened and deep – you wanted to die. This was too much. “No, Henry. I’m… Not…” You sighed. You still held on to each other. “I’m not what you want, not really.” “Why?” You swallowed. “I just… Aren’t.” he sighed and the hand, that cupped your face, pulled you an inch closer to him. You were craning your neck to keep looking at his eyes. “Darling, you are everything to me. Everything. All you are, all you’ll ever be… The very air you breathe makes me dizzy. I get that it’s intimidating, and trust me, I know what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours. We’ve been friends for long enough for me to confidently say that you’re overthinking it. How we would look. How you look. I can’t take that away from you, but I can say…” He leaned in a little closer. “I don’t care. You’re the most beautiful person, I’ve ever had the joy of laying my eyes on, inside and out. If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life worshipping everything about you.” You didn’t know what to say. Nor did you really think there was anything to say, so you did the next best thing.

Your fingers moved from the buttons on his shirt to his waist, fingers nimbly undoing the strings, holding his pants in place, your eyes locked on his. “Y/N, what are you…” “Sh. Just… Sh.” You whispered, the strings coming loose under your fingers. The pants fell to the ground around his ankles in a whisper, and your fingers moved back to the buttons on his shirt, his breath hitching when your fingers began unbuttoning them – your hands were surprisingly steady. He complied, and moved his arms over his head, as you slowly pulled the shirt over his head, his hair and beyond his fingertips, throwing it to the side.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and then his hands moved to the straps of your dress, slowly, while his eyes were boring into yours, he gently moved them down your arms. The dress fell from your chest, and without looking, he found the zipper on your ribcage, slowly dragging it down until your dress sagged a little, and he could move it further down your body.

It was entrancing to look at him; you were swimming in an ocean of him, as his fingers led the dress fall in a heap around your feet and then moved to your back, undoing your bra. You sucked in a sharp breath when it fell from your body.

It would seem that that was all it took.

His lips found yours in a feverish desire, slotting over yours perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. His lips slid against your bottom lip, begging silently for entrance; you granted it, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he groaned against the kiss, your bodies flush against each other. His tongue was sinful, making you whimper into the kiss, and his hands found your ass, cupping it, before he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and felt his hard cock nudge your thigh. It made you gasp and he chuckled against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip now that his tongue was withdrawn, and tugged it gently. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough to quell the fire that was raging in you, and you gasped, holding him tighter as he walked from the podium to the small couch next to it, sitting down and letting you straddle him. You bit his lip, tugging it with a little more force than he had, showing him what you needed. “Oh, you like it rough, love?” He asked breathlessly, his fingertips still burning against your ass. You nodded. “Yes.” You might have had an inkling to how he liked it, but it was nothing against the raw desire and ferocity that overtook him. He growled, placing his lips back on yours and moved swiftly, laying you down on your back as his fingers moved to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. His lips left yours, leaving wet trails along your neck and collarbone, until they latched on your nipple, tongue swirling against it. “Oh…” You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest up to meet his lips. His teeth found it and bit down gently, drawing a moan from your lips, that sounded strangely like his name, and your hands grabbed his hair, tugging it roughly. You needed more. He chuckled against your chest and moved from your nipple to your stomach, making sure he kissed every inch of it, before he moved further down. You gasped when his tongue licked a long stripe against your folds, his fingers digging into your soft flesh on your thighs and you could’ve died right there.

“Fuck, you taste amazing…” He grumbled before he lost all control, eating you like a man possessed. His tongue danced across your clit, sending shivers down your spine, and his right hand moved to your dripping hole, letting two fingers slide inside of you as he licked you. Your back arched and you whined at the feeling of his fingers moving inside of you. It was heaven.

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations sending you into overdrive; you had never in your life been this aroused before, and you could feel how damned close you already were. “Henry…” You whispered his name like a prayer, and he sped up, your walls fluttering around his fingers. You were rolling your hips to meet his movements and when you caught his eyes, looking up at you while a smirk rested on his lips as he licked a fat, hard strip against you, your orgasm came.

Waves of pleasure rippled through your body, every nerve screaming his name as you came on his tongue, lips and fingers; he was moaning along with you, lapping up everything you gave him. Your toes were curling and you writhed as your orgasm ripped through you.

When you could see straight again, you tugged his hair to bring him up again; his fingers were still working you, but he happily kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re so fucking good, Y/N… So good for me…” His praise made you preen, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Please… I want to taste you…” You hadn’t even looked at him naked yet, and you wanted to see him and feel his cock on your tongue. “You’re going to be the death of me, love.” He whispered against your lips, before drawing back and sitting down on the couch.

You slid to your knees and moved to sit in front of him, practically drooling over the sight in front of you.

His cock was leaking precum, throbbing slightly; it was large, larger than you’d ever been with before, and a pulsing vein ran along the underside, that was begging to be licked. He stared at you with lust-blown eyes, and you smirked at him before your tongue darted out and licked a stripe against the vein. He moaned and whispered a small fuck when you sucked on his head, tasting his precum.

You slowly inched down on him, taking as much as you could before he hit the back of your throat. He twitched and forced himself a little deeper. You gagged. “Shit, Y/N…” You shot him a wink and grasped his thigh, letting him know it was okay. You wanted this. You needed to feel him.

He groaned and sat up straighter, a hand falling on your hair. “Is this okay?” You nodded as much as you could with your mouth occupied. He grinned wickedly at you. “Good girl… Taking so much of me.” He slowly pressed you down, letting you gag around him. “You can do more, love.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, and you felt the wetness between your thighs at his words. He slowly moved your head down his cock, twitching slightly when he hit the back of your throat. You moaned at the feeling, and you could see the moment, Henry snapped completely.

His eyes darkened and he rolled his hips, thrusting into your mouth, slowly beginning to fuck your mouth. It was the most erotic sight, you’d ever seen – his lips twitching as he fucked into your mouth, his eyes trained on your lips and small moans tumbling from his lips.

“Fuck, you feel fucking amazing… You take me so well, baby… Such a good girl for me.” He grunted and you preened under his praise, hollowing your cheeks and meeting his thrusts; he groaned and stilled, pulling out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting you to him. “Henry, what…?” your voice was hoarse. He kissed you and smiled. “I’m not coming in your mouth today, love.” He gently guided you to straddle him again, and lined himself up with your waiting, dripping core, coating his cock in your slick. “Are you sure…” “Henry, take me.” You whispered, desperate for him inside of you. He didn’t need to be told twice, and adjusted a little, and let his tip sink inside your warmth. You both moaned as you sunk down on him, taking him completely; he filled you so much that it was nearly uncomfortable, but you didn’t care – it was too good, so much more than you had ever imagined and when his head nudged your cervix, you damn near collapsed. He wasn’t faring any better; he held you tightly, groaning at the feeling of you and he thrusted up once, making you whimper. Something came over him, and you felt the shift in the air; he wasn’t going to be gentle.

“Fuck, you…” He grunted and slammed his hips to meet you, his cock moving at an impossible speed, as you moved your own hips – you were fucking each other, his hand on your ass and one in your hair, tugging you back slightly to expose your neck to him. He bit and licked at your sensitive skin as the sounds of your skin slapping against each other filled the trailer. “You’re taking me so… ugh… So well, love.” You moaned and your hips stuttered, your second orgasm building faster than you could keep up with. “Are you going to cum, love? Make a mess out of me?” You nodded. “Oh, there’s my good girl… Atta, girl…” He mumbled against your skin. “Fucking clench down on me, milk me, love… I want to feel you cum on me…” You lost it at his words. Your orgasm erupted like a surge of power out of you, stars colliding behind your eyes as you screamed his name, your pussy clenching down on him.

“Fuck, I’m going to… Shit, can I cum in you?” He was gasping now, as he fucked you through your orgasm – you were mewling, barely coherent, but you did manage to get a fuck yes out while waves of pleasure rolled against you.

“I’m going to fill you… Fuck, Y/N!” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, forcing you down as far as you could go, and you felt the warmth of him filling you; you moaned at the feeling, grinding against him, milking him for whatever he had.

“I’m so sorry, you came so fucking hard, I couldn’t…” You kissed him to shut him up. “Stop it, it was perfect.” You mumbled against his lips. He chuckled and slowly laid you down, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’ll promise that the next time will be a lot longer.” You smiled against his chest, feeling your pussy pulse in feeble aftershocks, and his spend leaking out of you slowly. “So there’s going to be a next time?” You asked. “Oh, and a time after that, and after that… I’m planning on ruining you for the rest of your life, love.” He said, kissing your damp hair. “I’m not willingly letting you go, you know.” You grinned. “Good thing I’m not planning on it, then.” He chuckled. “Henry?” Your voice was tired. “Hm?” “Uh, what… Does this mean for, you know… Us?” you asked in a small voice, hoping this wasn’t another one of the “I’m keeping you a secret”-deals, because your heart couldn’t handle it. “What do you mean? I’m planning on ravishing you, and when I’m not doing that, I’ll be parading you around. Trust me, you’ll get tired of me really quickly.” He laughed. “I’m going to want everyone to know that you are mine.” He sounded so possessive, it made you clench your thighs.

“Oh.” “Not what you expected?” You shook your head. “I was a little scared that you’d want to keep me a secret.” He lifted your head gently with two fingers under your chin, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Darling, I would never want to hide the best thing in my life away. You are the light that leads the way for me, and I hope you know that. That shouldn’t be snuffed out, and I’ll do my very best to prove that to you.” “I love you.” You blurted it out. You sucked in a sharp breath, hoping to God that you didn’t ruin a good thing. He smiled at you and kissed you so softly, it felt like a butterfly’s heartbeat thrumming. “I love you too, if it wasn’t abundantly clear already.”

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

TAGLIST: @acaceta @a-skov @angelmather1 @cooldreamlandsandwich @doubletriplepowerbomb @est1887 @enchantedbytomandhenry @fionnthebandersnacc @herroyalbubbliness @keiva1000 @kebabgirl67 @littlebirdofrivia @luclittlepond @mis-lil-red @multifanficdom @one-sweet-gubler @pandaxnienke @perfunctory-username69 @sleutherclaw @sofiebstar @summersong69 @spookyboogyuniverse @stardusted26 @thereisa8ella @timetraveller4 @thatonechickhere @themanfromu @thelastpyle @tragicphoenix13 @yourlocalhoney @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill reader insert #henry cavill reader insert smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill rpff #henry cavill rpf smut #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x plus size reader smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfic smut #henry cavill fanfiction smut

449 notes · View notes

captainhysunstuff · 4 months

Text

The Chain - Date: Woods Transcript

The Chain - Date: Woods comic

In the woods, Light and L are climbing over fallen trees.

L: Light. Are you going to tell me where we're going or not?

Light: It's where I'm going to hide your corpse.

L: ...

Light: *smirk* Relax. I'm joking.

L: ...Your sense of humor is terrible.

Light: Whatever. Don't fall behind. I want to get this over with before it gets dark.

L: ...

They walk deeper into the forest. Light eventually stops within a clearing and takes off his bag.

L: This is where you wanted to... continue?

Light: Yeah.

L: Oh... All right. *starts shrugging off his jacket in preparation for intimate shenanigans* Strange location, but-- *thinking* A ritual perhaps?

Light: *snort* HA! Not for that, you goober!

L: *embarrassedly pouts and growls while putting his jacket back on* What's special about this place, then? Is something here?

Light: It's neutral ground.

L: "Neutral ground..."

Light: Have we reached 100%?

L: 99.9%. I wouldn't mind hearing you say it.

Light stands silently. L watches him intently. Light tightens his fist, then loosens it.

Light: *turns to side-eye L* ...I am Kira.

L: *excitedly smiles*

Light: *crosses his arms* What are the conditions of L working with Kira?

L: *smirks* For me to work alongside you?

Light: *leans against a tree, waiting*

L: *sobers up* My terms are as follows: One: you will reveal the locations of every notebook that you know of. Two: the killing list will be run by me before judgment is passed.

Light: *glares*

L: *raises finger* Hear me out. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing that you're hoping to improve the world by killing criminals. Encourage better behavior by threatening swift and severe punishment to those that corrupt society, and targeting those that hinder this mission is an unfortunate exception. I understand that, I do.

But if changing the world is really your goal, then I believe the time for scourging is over. You've already shown everyone that you're watching for the scum of the earth to step out of line. Now is the time to be selective. Quality over quantity. I can help you target more influential people who cause chaos. Attack the root rather than the symptom.

Light: What makes you think that I couldn't do so on my own?

L: Please. No one person can change the world all by themselves. Not lasing change, anyways.

Light: I'm inclined to disagree. Many individuals have made a difference.

L: They still needed other people to follow them. Others who were convinced that their proposed changes were for the better.

Light: I am doing that. Kira has millions of followers by now.

L: Your methods will not last. Even if you manage to get the entire world on board with Kira's purpose and morality, how does that stop crime from happening? Fear of punishment? That already exists! What, because your punishment is faster and supernatural, the lesson will stick better?

Light: *insulted, leans forward* It's better than what came before!

L: And if Kira disappears? In just these few weeks of silence, I've noticed a tentative spike in criminal activity. Things are just itching to return to how they once were. Everyone is ready and willing to accept Kira's time on Earth as a dark, fear-filled period in humanity's history. Write him off as one of the worst murderers of all time.

Light: ...

L: I'm telling you, if you really want change, just killing anyone who commits a crime isn't going to cut it.

Light: Kira doesn't kill indiscriminately.

L: *approaches Light* I can help you. Help you do the necessary research to deem a person worth erasing.

Light: Kira does do research and judges accordingly.

L: *unfolds Light's arms* Forgive me, but you're just one person from one walk of life. You only have your own perspective to go by. *cradles Light's left hand* This is part of the reason why a single person can't change the world on their own. Not on this scale. Let me lighten the load. *brushes some hair behind Light's ear* Having a second set of eyes is objectively better for making fair judgements. Kira can't afford to make mistakes... *holds Light's hand up and smiles* ...and who is better suited for double-checking Kira's work than the best detective in the world?

Light: *cracks a smile, amused* Hm. You think so highly of yourself.

L: *raises Light's hand to his mouth* My resume speaks for itself, and experience has shown that we work well together.

Light: *touches L's bottom lip* I won't lie. This offer is starting to sound attractive. However, you won't use this to wrest control over who ultimately gets judged.

L: Of course not. All I'm offering is a second opinion. *shoves his hands in his pockets and puts on an annoyed look* Also, criminal lives aren't only a resource for you. Remember, you aren't the only one trying to fight crime. Some of the people you've judged were being held for questioning and died before they could've revealed crucial information. Such hastiness endangers the lives you want to protect. I can ensure that this never happens again. They could also be my employees, so y'know...

Light: *pulls hand back and chuckles sheepishly* Ehehe... I can see how that would be annoying. Fair.

L: You would ultimately have the final say, and I'd leave the act for you to carry out... unless explicitly asked.

Light: Hm. *thinking* He's expressed interest in testing the notebook before. How could he not want to at this point?

L: My next term is the allowance of me requesting a kill now and then.

Light: Oh?

L: It would be an absolute last resort. No offense, but I also find Kira's power quite cheap.

Light: It's really not as overpowered as you'd think.

L: Really? Well, I suppose there are rules in place regarding its usage...

Light: Any other conditions or concerns?

L: The last and most obvious request I'd have... Spare my associates.

Light: *serious expression* Will they obey you if you order them to not oppose Kira?

L: ...Not necessarily.

Light: Then I can't guarantee their safety. Kira will eliminate all threats.

L: Then I ask that you run your decisions by me first. I would like to be given the chance to speak in their defense.

Light: Perhaps.

L: If you agree, know that if I find that you abuse or violate my terms in any way, I will immediately resume my path to convict and sentence you.

Light: *closes eyes and looks away* Hmph.

L: But show me even a modicum of respect, and I will refrain from going after you myself. *leans against the tree alongside Light and partially holds his hand* I promise.

Light looks down at his held hand, and glances back up at L. L smiles softly at him. Light's heartbeat quickens as he returns the expression.

Light: These are all of your terms, I assume? Respect, an open mind, and no surprises. Do I have that right?

L: *nods* Yes.

Light: Hm. I suppose you aren't asking for the impossible...

L looks down surprisedly as Light entwines their fingers.

Light: I also have the right to reject your assistance at any time.

L: Of course. That goes without saying. I can't control what you do. *sticks his tongue out with silly expression* That's a Kira power.

Light: *laughs* True.

L watches as Light rummages through his bag and pulls out a garden trowel.

#transcript #my fancomic #Death Note #lawlight #The Chain #I really should start numbering these. Someday.#I never intended for this thing to get so long lol

13 notes · View notes

babyjakes · 2 years

Text

bratty little baby.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | after you decide to be a brat and challenge andy on completing your homework, the dominant man decides he’s had enough of your attitude and that a bit of brutal punishment has been earned.

pairing | mean!daddy!andy barber x bratty!little!reader

warnings | ohmygod. pure filth. daddy! kink, spanking, fingering & forced org!asm(s?!) (probably one too many! yikes), name-calling (sweet ones and not sweet ones), squirting /-\ imsosorrylol

word count | 1,609

requested by @yeetyeetspidey | Can I request a kinky smut with Andy Barber if your uncomfortable with that can you do one where the reader is just bratty Andy decides to do something about that

an | hi, thank you so so much for the request!!! i love andy barber holy moly, i super hope you don’t mind i went complete! daddy kink with this lol. this is my first ‘kinky’ request so i’m truly taking all the liberties here. (lord forgive me) but HOLY COW this turned out hot

“No,” you state simply, placing your hands on your hips over your high-waisted skirt as you frown slightly at Andy, the single word causing him to raise an eyebrow at you in surprise. Standing next to him as he reads the newspaper at the kitchen table, a wave of bratty confidence has washed over you. And despite knowing you’re getting yourself into trouble, you just can’t help treading into the dangerous territory.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asks darkly, not entirely sure he’s heard you correctly. You and Andy are both well aware at this point in your relationship that the word ‘no’ isn’t really allotted in your vocabulary, aside from when used with a safeword.

“I said no,” you repeat, causing the man to slam the paper down firmly onto the table, sending a wave of excitement through your body. “I don’t want to do homework,” you continue bravely. “I was just going to go watch some TV.”

“I don’t think so, doll face,” Andy grumbles as he grabs your arm, pulling you over and sitting you down on his lap roughly. “When I asked you to work on your homework, I wasn’t really giving you a choice, y/n. You know that,” he says, stating the obvious.

With your burst of confidence still going strong, you just shrug lazily in response. Widening his eyes slightly, Andy swallows hard, his lips pressing together tightly in a thin line. “Oh, is that how you’re gonna be?” he asks tauntingly. “You wanna be a bad girl all of a sudden, is that it? What happened to my sweet little y/n who was all over me this morning with the cuddles and kisses, huh?”

Only giving him another shrug, his eyes darken even further, and he sighs. “I see,” he trails impatiently. “Well then,” he huffs as he grabs you by your waist and flips you so that you’re bent over his knee, ass sticking straight up in the air, “I guess I’ll have to remind you what happens when you decide to be a little fucking brat.”

Before you can even think of a response, Andy’s whipped up your skirt, exposing your thin lace panties to the cool air. He runs a rough finger under the elastic band of the panties, and you jump and let out a whimper as he snaps it against your tender skin, causing him to smile.

“Such a squirmy little baby,” he coos, ripping the panties down your legs as you wiggle against him helplessly, his strong arm holding you down against his thighs. “Bad girls need to be taught a lesson, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” he reminds you sickly. You simply let out a whimper into your arm as you lay exposed and humiliated, beginning to regret your bold decision to be defiant.

“Mmm, I’m gonna make this ass look so pretty, all bright red from my hand. Is that what you want, pretty girl? Want my hand marks all over your pretty little bottom?” he asks teasingly as he runs his fingers softly against one of your cheeks, causing you to shiver. “Alright, babydoll. Time to remind you who’s in charge,” he warns as he winds up his hand, cracking it down harshly against your tender skin.

You let out a cry as each strike hits your burning flesh, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks as Andy continues well past your point of discomfort, not softening his blows in the slightest despite your pitiful groans and whimpers. “That’s-” whack, “what-” whack, “you-” whack, “get-” whack, “when-” whack, “you’re-” whack, “a-” whack, “bratty-” whack, “little-” whack, “baby,” he grunts through his slaps as your tears and spit beginning to dribble down your chin pathetically.

“You like that, huh?” he demands, his voice rising slightly as he continues to strike down on your ass. “You like it when Daddy has to bend you over his knee and spank your bratty little ass?”

“N-n-no Daddy,” you blubber through your tears, knowing better than to beg him to stop.

“I don’t believe you, not for one second,” he shakes his head as he continues giving his brutal punishment. “I think you love being a dumb little baby, stupid little whore for me,” he grunts as he’s suddenly stopped, his hand trailing down between your legs. Smiling as you let out a confused cry of pleasure, he begins running his fingers against the folds of your pussy, and to nobody’s surprise, you’re already soaking wet. “Oh, see? Such a dirty little girl, so wet from Daddy spanking her,” Andy croons, slipping a finger into your tight opening.

“Mmhhh-… D-Daddy,” you whimper, arousal beginning to burn in your core as he pumps steadily in and out of you, his other arm still holding you down firmly against his lap.

“That’s it, good girl,” he praises as you take in a second finger, your cunt making filthy sounds as his pace increases. “Such a good girl, taking Daddy’s fingers,” he sings. “You gonna cum? Gonna be a good girl now and cum for Daddy?”

“Y-yes, Daddy, please,” you begin to pant as he rubs up against your tender spot, your whole body falling limp as your orgasm sweeps over you in an overwhelming burst of pleasure. Your toes curl up and your eyes roll to the back of your head as Andy finger-fucks the life out of you, your high lasting several seconds before finally settling back down. And as soon as it does, your body snaps to attention, suddenly highly aware and sensitive following your intense climax.

And even though Andy sees this and knows just how sensitive you’ve become, he keeps his fingers moving inside you, causing you to let out a weak whine in protest. “Aww, what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, the sight of you writhing with his fingers still inside of you following an orgasm sending blood straight to his growing bulge.

“P-please, stop,” you sputter as he continues to finger you, panic setting in as you realize his intentions.

“Stop? Why should I stop?” Andy asks innocently as his thumb comes up and brushes against your clit once, causing you to jump and let out a startled cry. “Oh, what’s that? Is that sensitive, sweetheart? Right there?” he asks, slowly dragging his thumb across your swollen nub once more. A new round of tears build in your eyes at the overstimulation, but Andy just smiles, beginning to rub tight circles across your most sensitive spot, picking his pace of thrusting back up to full speed.

“N-n-n-no-o-o,” you heave as he brings you back to the brink of orgasm within just seconds, your body feeling entirely too overwhelmed to handle another climax so quickly.

“Oh, poor baby,” he croons as he watches you fall apart again against him, your orgasm sending wracks of sobs through your quivering body. “That’s a good girl, cumming so hard for Daddy,” he praises darkly as you squirt against his powerful fingers, only able to let out a pathetic cry in humiliation.

“D-done, all done,” you plead as you come down from your high, shaking and gasping for air. But to your complete horror, Andy simply tightens his grip on your waist, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and focusing all of his attention on your clit. The poor bud is bright red and swollen at this point, throbbing painfully as Andy pulls back on the hood and flicks his thumb feverishly directly on the exposed head. “No, n-no!”

“Come on, sweet girl. One more, you can do it,” he encourages as he holds down your squirming body, his cock rock-hard and bulging against your tummy as he restrains you on his lap. “Yeah, that’s it,” he murmurs as he senses another climax building up in you, against your will. “Daddy’s gonna make you cum again, isn’t that right, sweetheart? Gonna make you cum so hard and there’s nothing you can do about it. Stupid little baby,” he smirks as you cry out in pleasure, your third and most powerful orgasm ripping through your body violently at his words.

After several seconds of unbearable pleasure, so strong at this point that it just feels like pain, your body finally comes down from its elevated state of arousal, and Andy pulls his hands away. Choking on your tears and spit, you struggle to find your breaths as he rubs your back soothingly, shushing you gently, “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. You did so good, baby; I’m so proud of you.” Though it takes you several more minutes to steady out your breathing, Andy is patient, simply rubbing your back and cooing at you softly as you calm down.

When you’re finally able to look up at him with tear-soaked cheeks, he takes a gentle hand and cups the side of your face, brushing away a few stray tears with his thumb. “You did such a good job, honey. Did you learn your lesson?” he murmurs. You nod weakly, your bottom lip trembling as you fail to even find words to respond to him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. No more tears, okay? We’re all done; you learned your lesson and won’t do it again, right?”

You nod again, wanting more than anything for him to just wrap you up and hold you until you’re feeling better. “Good girl,” he hums as he helps you up from his knee and cradles you against his chest gently, his soft side showing through as it always does after he completely brutalizes you. “Now let’s go get you cleaned up, sweet girl. After all that Daddy put you through, you ended up making quite the mess.”

#eun's writing #bratty little baby #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #daddy!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber one shot #andy barber imagine #andy barber drabble #andy barber blurb #andy barber headcanon

403 notes · View notes

everythingblreview · 1 year

Text

Regarde Moi Continuation (Tamamori’s POV)

“Should we go see the cherry blossoms?”

“…”

It’s early afternoon on a warm day in April. Kawase’s brief comment has me frozen in place. I nervously put the writing brush away and quietly stand up from the chair. If I were to turn around, would he be smiling while looking out the window? Go see the cherry blossoms, he said. “…Why?” “Because cherry blossoms are pretty.” “Wh-….! Wh-….!” What a surprise. A moment ago, I was in the middle of studying for the entrance exam. It had been several hours without any verbal abuse. The moment I start thinking something was off, I received this line. “That’s why I want to see the cherry blossoms.” “Have you lost your mind?!” “What do you mean?” “An Oni saying he wants to see the cherry blossoms. No wait, could it be that you …!” “?” “…! ….!!” “Could it be what?” “No, I’m praying it was just a misunderstanding… I’ll ask again, by saying ‘I want to see the cherry blossoms’ you actually mean that you want to go to see the cherry blossoms?” “Hm? Yeah.” Lately, his words hold no deeper meaning to them. He doesn’t have any presence. He comes home without making any noise and drinks his cold coffee absentmindedly. Besides, the hand that’s teaching me is gentle. Even if I give a wrong answer, he doesn’t get angry every single time like before, and he’s even started to comment on my scribbles.

…..All of this makes things all the more strange. Finally, I stand up from the table and draw closer to him. “Show me the examination papers.” “?” “Show me.” He won’t even look me in the eyes. I give him the papers half-heartedly. “That’s a problem, you got everything wrong.” He cleanly folded the paper in four. …Something is strange after all, he is being too kind. I take the water jug and slowly approached him from behind. I should cool down that head of his. “Tamamori-kun.” “!” “Let’s go to Ueno……I have something important I want to talk to you about.”

He put on a new mask and his coat and without taking anything else he leaves the room. After just standing still for a while, I immediately follow him.

No matter how you look at it, even from an outsider view, it’s weird. …Unfamiliar, short-lived, not like him. While trying to get a good look at him, we arrive at Ueno’s promenade.

The cherry-blossoms are beautiful, that’s why we came here. Everyone who is at peace is gathering here. Kawase’s presence in the middle of it is sticking out. There is no other man who doesn’t fit into a cherry blossom scenery as much as him. “Kawase. So, this really was what you were talking about.” “What was this about before?” “You have no intention of burying me here?” “…” “I thought you planned to push me into the Shinobazu pond and bury me under the cherry-blossom tree once I’d become too exhausted to move.” “Do you even have any proof of me wanting to kill you?” “Well, you see…” “You don’t have to study anymore.” “!” Rather than being angry, I’m terrified. It’s the smile of an Oni. The smile of the devil. Kawase’s smile. Even with the mask I can see his expression clearly.

“Wh-what do you mean?” “You’re also happy with me being at ease and not angry right?” “Ye-s.” I hold my head in an exaggerated way and get closer to him. “I won’t try to hide it. …even if 100 years were to pass by, I wouldn’t pass and make it into the imperial university. I realised it with the exam.” “…I noticed it in the first year.” “I’m sorry. …Was this the important thing you wanted to talk about?” “…” He doesn’t confirm or deny this, just wanders off ahead of me. What is it? This Kawase is flimsy like paper. I was frightened since the morning, but it seems my guess was incorrect. It’s certain, that I’m a big idiot, that’s why I thought he might have fallen out of love with me. “I’m glad I came here with you. The Sakura and the lotus pond are both beautiful, it’s like heaven.“ “I get goosebumps when you say things like this.” “I don’t have to help you with your studies anymore. …So goodbye.” “What?” Even when I try to walk in front of him, he is constantly turning his face to the side. “What are you hiding? Look at me!” “Don’t be so loud. It hurts my head.” “You’ve been like this for a week now. What an immature guy.” “Hey, wait!” I pull his mask off. As I do, I notice his left cheek if completely swollen. “Wha, Wha, What’s with that cheek-! Nyanyanyahahaha.” “…. Annoying…” “I thought you were only buying masks, so it was cavity!” “It’s not cavity!” I can’t. I laughed too much and now he is angry. Kawase puts on a different mask and quickly walks ahead of me. “Wait a second. What do you mean it’s not cavity?” “…” “Relax Kawase. You know, I don’t much care for that bitchy face of yours. That’s why it doesn’t matter how much you ruin it~” “You liar. And yet you can cum just from looking at it.” “H-h-hey…..” Had he refused to look into my face for several days because he didn’t want to be hated by me?" ...Laughing about it so hard, I’m an asshole too… No wait. Especially in this case isn’t it better to rely on me? In that moment I tear off his mask. Then I thrust my hands into his mouth. “Let me look at it,” “Dirty! You touched the handrail at the station!” “If you don’t want to be touched, then open your mouth wide.” “…” The people around us are giggling. It doesn’t matter, we likely won’t meet again. Right now, Kawase’s serious situation has the highest priority. He kept his mouth shut in a straight line. “What does an amateur like you know?” “I can’t leave someone who is on the brink of death alone.” “Leave it. …My life won’t be long anyways.” How mean, it hurts me deeply. Are you saying the poison is spreading in your head? “Let’s go to a dentist now.” “I rather die than be touched by other people.” “I’m coming with you.” “…That makes me even more anxious.” Kawase’s and my conversations look like fights. And that’s exactly what they are. Am I hurting the other? Am I making them sad? This relationship has no such concern. I forcibly drag his arm along. “You can handle it, if they put you fully under anaesthesia.” “!?” “Sleeping pills should be fine too, but it would be a problem if you can’t wake up. So, they should go with anaesthesia.” “Listen,” “Hurry and get it fixed. This Kawase, who can be so easily hurt by my scolding, is not the real Kawase!” “…” In a blink of an eye he is ahead of me.

This man hates losing. He is malicious and sly, but he is easy to manipulate. I like this about him. Finally, I can show a smile of relief. It looks like we can quickly fix this bad mood of his.

The evening on a cool day in April. One hour, two hours, the shadows are spreading further. …I see the setting sun. As people began to move about, the door of the dentist clinic finally opens. “Kawase!” He is looking down with tears in his eyes. His face is mostly covered by his mask. “How was it?” “The reason were the wisdom teeth. …They pulled them out.” “I see…” “I didn’t know a fully matured human has an extra pair of teeth.” “You didn’t study dental at the imperial university? …” He snorts with an audible noise. …He will probably throw up. So even a clean-freak like him, can feel sick in a place like that. I need to do something after all. “There is nothing embarrassing about having teeth pain. I’ve had similar pain for a while now too.” He stares at me blankly. It makes me a little happy finally seeing him look into my eyes. “It’s a throbbing pain. I can feel it the back of my front teeth.” “!” “When you become a legitimate doctor, please treat mine too!” “…The reason for the swelling was an inflammation. They said a bacterium got inside.” “…?” “So this is where your cavity came from…!” “Ah, m-my?” He slowly pulls his mask down. And reveals his terrifying smile.

#hashihime of the old book town #koshotengai no hashihime #bl game #kawatama

71 notes · View notes