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miley1442111 · 1 month

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safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body.

What happened?

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica.

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms.

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone.

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?”

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered.

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there.

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack.

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned.

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again.

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off.

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen.

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride.

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen.

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you.

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked.

He could deal with them later.

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron?

“Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you.

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge.

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok?

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.”

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office.

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you.

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him.

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part.

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

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bubbles0bop · 4 months

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Hiii! Can we have some Inumaki, Hakari and Nanami bf headcanons? + Anyone you'd like OFC!! :3

Relationship headcanons with the JJK Men

Includes: Nanami, Hakari, Inumaki, Choso

I like this one, you have good taste. Anddd i did take some liberty of adding choso because i've been feeling like writing him as well

Disclaimers: strong language, no gender specified, mention of smoking

Nanami

He's the type of boyfriend that will be spoiling you goddamn rotten

every month is a new bouquet of flowers trimmed and set in a vase on the kitchen counter

same with gifts. you'll come home to see the outfit you liked at the mall but couldn't afford, probably wrapped nicely in a black box

he's very thoughtful and meticulous, especially with dates

he'll plan for a while and make sure it's something you'll love

since he works such terrible hours, he really likes his quality time so he expects to come home to you and do nothing but cuddle or maybe do something like read together

this is random but i feel like he would be a massive critique for no reason

like "sweetie did you notice how tangy this loaf of bread tastes? do you think we should go back there next time?"

or when you're watching a movie it's not uncommon for him to say something like "ugh, this is so unrealistic, she would never fall for that type of trick."

I also think he would accidentally be really into it if you guys watched a kdrama together

Hakari

he's the type of guy that would say "wear what you want, i can fight." period.

he loves to talk- a professional yapper, if you will- but you love it

he talks your ear off about his hobbies (gambling) and some stupid people he may have had to deal with that day

he's pretty nonchalant in general and doesn't try to stress a lot over trivial stuff which means fights wouldn't last long

i get kind of a vibe that he would smoke some herb from time to time but he wouldn't shove it in your face if you don't want him to

he would love to share a coffee with you in the morning, and would probably order you both breakfast

i feel like with dates he's totally going to go with the flow but he loves new things so there's always something for you guys to do together, whether it's movies, or clubs.

Inumaki

your time together can sometimes be... quiet. 😭

i imagine that he's big on physical touch and doesn't care much about PDA (but he won't go too far)

i think his top two love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he's the type of guy that would become your personal nurse if you are sick or get your period

he's also the type where if you were chilling on your phone or reading a book he would do it with you, enjoying some peaceful silence

the jjk fan book mentions that he likes to do Youtube which brings the thought of what would he do on there if he can't exactly talk like the average person?

i'd say he makes cooking videos or posts the pranks that Panda and him do to their friends

he loves to eat with you, it's your thing. he would cook or bring you out to restaurants so you guys could rate the food

you, of course, have also learned his 2nd language over time and unlike megumi, you sometimes respond just like Inumaki does

Choso

honestly if i were to guess, i think he would show his partner love by telling them. very directly.

He's not too much of a cuddler but he'll do it immediately upon your request

He has a dry sense of humor, so dry that no one really knows if it's a joke or not

i think he is more outwardly protective of you than most- so if he catches anyone staring he'll yell at them to 'fuck off!'

I also don't think he would hold his opinions back just to make people happy so if you ask, "how do you think i look in this?" he'll say exactly how he feels- not really in an a insulting way, ever-more truthfully than hurtfully.

he likes to do things that you enjoy, like shopping and he'll help you pick out outfits

he, himself, would probably suggest dates that are calm and intimate, like picnic dates, stargazing, and maybe going out for smoothies/boba

i feel like he would love to try boba after you tell him about it, because he likes sweet things over bitter (like coffee)

i could imagine him being the type to grab your waist from behind while you're busy doing anything

he also really craves your attention when you aren't near him, even if he doesn't say that.

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ltbarnes · 3 months

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Back to December (2/2)

Summary: Your new job as an assistant for the CEO of a big, shiny company was supposed to be a good thing. Instead your ex from uni who completely ghosted you out of nowhere several years ago happens to be one of your superiors. It doesn’t help that he’s only gotten more handsome over the years. But you hate him for leaving without an explanation, and he seems to hate you too. Everything is just fucking great.

Pairing: ex!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Word count: 7k

Warnings: OFFICE AU (Ghost is not ceo but he’s up there in the company somewhere), exes to enemies to lovers, harassment, past emotional violence/threats, blood, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)

A/N: Took me a few weeks but it’s finally here ;) you guys don’t understand how happy it made me when so many people loved the last part!! makes me so excited to write more for the cod fandom! (I have not proofread this because I was too excited to publish it so there might be errors and weird stuff lol)

Part 1

Masterlist

The car ride is quiet. He glances your way whenever you wince. You watch his hand gripping the stirring wheel tightly, fingers drumming along anxiously with the faint beat of a song coming from the radio.

It's a nice car. Like, you would not afford this even if you saved up for years. You knew Simon was influential in the company, but this...it almost scares you. He's fucking rich. Probably going to laugh at you when he pulls up outside of your apartment building.

This is the first time you have ever been in a car with him. You wish things were different. Mostly that your eyes weren't so puffy from crying. And that he wasn't your ex and you weren't working together.

A red light forces him to slow down into a stop, the only sound now being the wind picking up pace outside. It's so quiet for a few seconds that you barely have the courage to breathe.

"Why did you fuck up my entire office? Whole day was ruined," Simon speaks from nowhere. Your lip twitches, fighting the urge to smirk despite the pain tormenting you.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Of course it was you. No one else in there knows that I'd have a bloody breakdown over my files being out of order," he mutters.

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "It was petty. But...I was mad. About the coffee-thing." Your voice grows softer with each word, merely a whisper by the end.

Simon clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, uh...not my finest moment."

A thick silence falls over the car once more. None of you dare to talk about the thing that actually needs to be brought up, the dark cloud hanging over your shared past. You are not really mad at each other over coffee.

The drive takes much longer than usual because of the heavy rain. You're shivering despite the heat being on. It's been thirty minutes once the wheels slow down right outside of your apartment, and you instantly move to get out after throwing a sincere 'thank you' his way. It's all you can muster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Simon asks, not even making an attempt to answer to what you were saying.

"What do you mean?" You stop, looking over your shoulder with one hand on the door. You just want to go inside, away from his gaze before it all gets too much.

Simon unbuckles his belt, getting out of the car. Rounds the entirety of it until he's opening your door, leaning down to look at you with a frown.

"You're hurt, for fuck's sake, Y/n. You can't take care of that yourself, no way."

You sigh out of frustration, shaking your head while looking away from him. "Why are you being nice to me, Simon?"

That seems to halt him in his actions. Simon blinks, pauses for a few seconds, before opening his mouth again. "Don't know. But I'm in a chipper fucking mood, so just let me get you out of the car, okay?"

You huff, giving no protest as he takes a hold of your waist to assist you out onto the curb. "You're not in a good mood..." you mutter under your breath. He just scoffs.

Simon sits and waits for you in the kitchen as you wrangle yourself out of your wet clothes into an old sweatshirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. For much too long you stand in front of the mirror, staring at the newly formed bruise on your upper arm. You have to take a few shaky breaths to force the tears back before you limp back into the kitchen.

This outfit of yours is the last thing you want to wear around him, but it's what the situation requires. But did you really have to be so dramatic and fall onto your knees before? This is going to take weeks to heal. And now you have Simon sitting on your chair waiting to patch you up. Simon.

"The first aid kit is in the bathroom, I'm just gonna go get—" You point with your thumb.

He's on his feet before you even have the chance to finish the sentence. You barely even processed the fact that he's discarded his suit jacket and shirt, now walking around your home with a white tank that does no good job at hiding his fucking massive muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos that he definitely didn't have when you last saw him. Fuck.

Simon returns just a minute later, already rummaging through the box for...something. You don't really know what's required for a wound like this. He was right about you not being able to take care of it yourself, which you hate. Loathe, actually.

"Sit down," he tells you, dragging out a chair from the table as if you are his guest and not the other way around. The strangest thing is that you listen, without a single protest. He seems to still have that power over you.

You can't take your eyes off of him as he kneels down, grabbing a hold of cotton and some liquid-thingy you didn't even know you had in that kit.

"Is that gonna hurt?" you ask, his hand one inch from touching your knee. Simon sighs, blinking as if he's going to lose it soon.

"Well, what do you think? It's alcohol in a bleeding wound. Of fucking course it's gonna hurt."

You grimace, biting your cheek, before inching back just slightly. "Then I don't wanna do it," you whisper.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Grow up for once, will you?"

"What do you mean ‘for once’?" you seethe, retracting yourself entirely from his proximity as he rolls his eyes.

"Well, c'mon, what you did today was just...fucking childish." Still sitting on his knees, but it feels like he's towering over you the way he speaks.

"Uh—like you acting like your coffee was cold when it clearly wasn't just to humiliate me wasn't childish too! You started it!"

You rise to your feet, turning away from Simon out of frustration.

"Sit down, Y/n."

"No! I won't...let you in my apartment to order me around and...and—"

"Just sit down," he seethes, getting up to his feet. Now he's really towering over you. You hate it.

You continue walking away towards your bathroom, letting out a wince as you put too much weight on the bad knee. You keep walking anyways.

"Y/n, for fuck's sake!" Simon follows you. He could have been ahead of you if he wanted to already, but he stays behind for some reason. "Why won't you listen to me?"

His yelling makes you turn around with so much anger in your expression. But the anger can't hide the tears pooling in your eyes—nothing can.

"Because you left me!"

Silence. Thick, anxious silence as he stands there dumbfounded. His chest is heaving from your altercation.

"You left me without a single word, Simon! Not even a fucking hint!"

His previous stunned silence turns into a bitter chuckle, one hand on his hip and the other running over his chin as he shakes his head. You see the change in his eyes—irritation turned into real anger.

"Not a hint, huh?" he scoffs. "You could've given a fucking hint that you were sick of me before you went and fucked Graves and half of his team behind my back."

All of a sudden the roles are switched, and you're the one stunned silent. A person who can barely process the words you just heard—did you hear right? Could Simon ever say that to you?

"I was so happy that night. Just wanted to celebrate with my team and my girl—searched the whole party for you, you know?" Simon shakes his head, still that cold, deprecating chuckle on his lips. "And then I find you eating up Philip fucking Graves' face and two of his friends. Fucking two of them, Y/n!"

Agressive flashes of fear-filled memories attack you along with the line of Simon's retelling of that night you go back to so often. Of what you could have done differently, of the anger you felt that he just had to make things worse. Water was up to your neck, pressing on your lungs, and his abandonment pushed your head under the surface.

"You get your fucking boyfriend to back down or we'll leave your pretty body half-conscious on his doorstep."

"Please, just let me go. I'll talk to him, I promise. Please." You were sobbing, the emotions heightened by the vodka in your bloodstream.

"Such an obedient little puppy, huh? No wonder he spends all his time fucking you instead of hanging out with the team." Philip's laughter filled the room, looking over his shoulder to his friends who found just as much amusement in the situation as him.

"Nothing to say, huh?"

Simon's voice shatters your deep train of thought with the sheer bitterness behind it. It makes the tears fall faster.

"You...you saw that?" you ask weakly, your voice frail as if you have been crying for hours. Your arms come up to shield yourself from the invisible presence of them, hugging your torso as if it helps.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. It was fucking hell, seeing the girl you love cheating on you with three guys. So I'm sorry if I've been acting like a bloody prick, but I can't just pretend I'm not still so fucking angry at you. Don't come crying here saying that my behavior isn't justified when you know damn well why I'm mad at you."

All these years. So many sleepless nights obsessing over every detail of your behavior during your relationship, and this is the answer. You have been so angry at him over leaving, and you never thought you would understand why. But you do, and it breaks your heart even more.

Blood is smeared all over your leg as you look down, and that still doesn't hurt as much as the fact that Simon has gone around for years hating you, thinking that you cheated on him. You loved him so much. Betraying him is the last thing you ever would have done. You understand Johnny's reaction now too—he thought you cheated on his best friend. That's not something you just forgive. It's your job to be mad at the people who wrong your friends.

But a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you to be angry. Simon walked past that dark bedroom, saw what was happening, and left. He could have saved you. It's an unfair thought to have. You can't be upset with him for misunderstanding. He couldn't have known about the threats dealt out in that room, or that the passionate kisses he witnessed was in reality seething, harsh words and a much too up and close Philip Graves. But it still hurts. Still haunts you, having three massive rugby players crowding you in and promising to beat you to a pulp.

A loud sniffle comes from your lips, drying the tears away from your face with the back of your hand. Blinking to rid yourself of the water on your lashes. You have to tell him. Simon looks about ready to leave.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say breathily. Your voice cracks in the middle of it.

"Sorry?" he shakes his head, lifts his eyebrow as if assessing the word. It's clear that's not enough for him.

"I'm sorry you thought I cheated all this time. I understand why—" A hiccup,"—I get why you left."

Your choice of words changes his demeanor. From hostile, clenched jaw with a fire simmering underneath the surface to hostile, clenched jaw and confused.

"I didn't kiss anyone, Simon. I didn't—I didn't do anything with Philip, or any of his friends." Broken words, distorted by the constant movement of your chest and throat as your body desperately fights for you to let out the sobs. Not yet. "They wanted me to get you to quit the team, and I couldn't...I couldn't fight back. Not against all of them."

Nostrils flare, lip is bitten down on. A veiny hand runs over a mouth. Blinking. Hands shake with contained...fury? You don't know who it's directed at.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" he seethes, taking a step forward that makes you take one back.

"We weren't kissing. They were threatening me. Said I'd be left on your doorstep bleeding and bruised if I didn't convince you to stop going after the Captain position. I was so scared, Simon," you say, voice cracking pathetically on the last sentence.

He’s quiet for much too long. You can’t read him, standing there so exposed and vulnerable and he’s silent. That’s why his outburst is so sudden.

"Fuck!"

You flinch, inching backwards as Simon turns around yelling. Not once have you heard him scream this loud. So you stand there, rooted in place, tears streaming down your face as he tugs at his hair with his hands. His chest heaves as if he just ran five miles.

You tremble too. The first sob comes out. It's a sad, pathetic sob that you try to muffle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Futile. Simon turns around. You can't see his expression through the blur of your tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, burying your face into the palms of your cold hands.

You almost jump as strong arms pull you into the tightest hug you have ever lived through. It's an urgent one, a desperate one. It's warm. Your cheek gets mushed against his damp shirt, hand encasing the back of your head as his chest rises up and down with his rugged breaths.

You lose the single crumb of composure you had left. If Simon wasn't a wall of a man he would have been dragged down with you as your legs lose the ability to carry you, just like in the alleyway. He notices anyway, slowly sitting the two of you down on the floor. Your knee is protected by a gentle hand keeping it from colliding with the hardwood.

"I am so, so sorry, Y/n," Simon tells you on a frail voice. It almost sounds like he's on the verge of crying too. You didn't know his voice could sound soft. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you. That I just—I just walked away. So fucking thickheaded—"

Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging just slightly. It's your silent 'stop'. A reassurance that he doesn't need to blame himself. You understand.

"All these years I—I hated you for something you didn't even do. Fuck, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."

He shakes his head, his hold around you tightening subconsciously. It takes a few seconds before he realizes and softens again.

"Oh fucking hell. I got Graves suspended the day before 'cause I ratted him out to Coach about smoking fucking weed. Fucking shit, this is all my fault. I am so sorry," Simon croaks out. His voice will give in any minute to the guilt and frustration and anger and tears.

"Simon..." you whisper before sniffling, putting your hand on his chest. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself."

He shakes his head again. He will give himself a concussion soon from how much he's done it this night.

"It's not your fault. It's...it was horrible. But it was them, not you. Someone came and stopped it before they could do anything worse."

He takes in a sharp breath. You can almost feel the way his jaw clenches. "Anything worse? They put their hands on you?" he whispers bitterly. "Shouldn't have happened at all. I should have been with you earlier."

"Just some bruises from when they dragged me into that room. But I know you wouldn't have let it happen if you knew. Of course I know that, Simon," you say softly, sitting up just slightly. You don't know when your tears stopped. It's just your throbbing head and the runny nose left. "Simon, you were so protective of me. You cared so much—I know you would have stopped them if you knew. But you didn't know."

Dirty blond hair and his scruffy neck is all you're met with. He doesn't even look your way. And then he's suddenly on his feet, towering over your figure on the floor.

"You're still bleeding. Need to fix it."

You can't answer. Don't even have the opportunity to—Simon's hands sneak under yours arms and lift you up to a stand before you can open your mouth again.

"Simon..."

He keeps quiet. It's that brooding thing where he overthinks. Did it when you were together too. A lot. Simon carries a lot of guilt around, steals it from others and guards it safely within himself. You don't really know how he bears it all.

The sofa sinks underneath your weight as he slowly loosens his hold around your waist, placing you so gently onto the cushions. Might as well be made of glass to him. But then you think that it must be exactly how he views you right now—a delicate, frail thing who needs protection from any and every threat. You have already amassed cracks during the years, during the day even, and just one push will leave you to splinter.

Once again he kneels before you. This time you don't find it frustratingly hot. Now it's soft, a little sad even. There's a frown so deep in between his eyebrows you fear it might become permanent this time.

You don't say anything as you let him clean your wound. Maybe you hiss a little once the alcohol touches the broken skin, but make no move to protest. Simon might need this more than you. Okay, you don't want to die from an infection, but you could have done this with a lot less grace. You would have ten minutes ago.

"I still am, you know," he mutters after many, many minutes of silence. He's wrapping a bandage around your leg.

"What?" you breathe out softly, looking down at his concentrated frown.

"Protective of you," he answers. "I still care. Even if we're not together." Simon gulps, stops for just a second in his work.

"You are?"

His eyebrows rise for a second, corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards. "Didn't see me earlier in the lobby? I was gonna curse you out real fucking good. For my office."

"But you didn't."

"No. I couldn't, not when I saw that you were crying." His hand suddenly stops, resting on your good knee, before he looks up at you. "Why the hell were you crying, Y/n?"

Instantly you close off again, glancing away to escape that concerned expression that makes his eyes so dark and soft. It's an irresistible thing.

"Please, love. I need to—I need to make it better."

You pretend to ignore that Simon just called you love. Instead you focus on the fact that he's trying to compensate for that December night. For all the years you had a broken heart without knowing the reason why.

"Just...something that brought back some bad memories, that's all. Unpleasant encounter." It's practically mumbled, your answer, and you know Simon always hated when you mumbled. Wanted to hear your pretty voice loud and clear, he used to tell you.

His ever present frown grows impossibly deeper. Simon is speculating with himself, it's clear on his expression.

"With someone at work? Who bothered you, Y/n? Who the fuck made you cry?" he seethes, running his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from saying something worse.

You shake your head. Your instinct tells you to dismiss it, say that it's fine. But maybe you shouldn't, for once. Just tell him that Shepherd actually said something that was far from okay. He was in the wrong. You shouldn't be the one to suffer in silence anymore.

"There was this—you know the man who always wears a Rolex and has the corner office? Shepherd?" you say meekly.

Simon's jaw clenches, but still his hand on your thigh is so gentle. "What the fuck did he do?"

"He...I ran into him on my way home. Collided right into his chest." You swallow air, looking down at the point of contact between you and Simon. "And he caught me. Didn't let go when I tried to go away. And he had this look in his eyes. Was so close, too. I couldn't breathe."

"Fucking hell," Simon groans.

"He said he just wanted to talk...but then he started commenting on my dresses. That he'd watched me 'strut around', as if I purposely put on a show for him, or something. Told me to come into his office on Monday and wear something nice so he would have something sweet to look at. I had to beg him to let me go."

"He the reason you've been clutching your arm the whole night?" Simon asks tensely, nodding down to where the bruise hides underneath your sweater.

You didn't even notice you did that. But it's sore when you move it. The answer to his question comes from your uneasy glance up at him that makes him close his eyes. You think it's to contain something—to calm down.

"He won't get fucking near you again, Y/n."

You gulp, blinking. "But he works there...he's one of my superiors."

"No. The fuck he isn't. He's not stepping a foot inside that building again."

"What?"

"Price will have him fucking murdered for even looking at you funny. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of him for years, and this...I'm so sorry, love. You shouldn't have to put up with that."

You shake your head, looking down to the point where Simon still has the bloodied cotton pressed against your knee.

"You would do that for me?" you ask softly, almost a whisper.

"Do fucking anything for you, Y/n. Would have even during all these years that I was too bloody stupid to reach out." With his hand on your thigh, he shakes your leg gently, enough to make you look him in the eye again. "You were my girl, you know? Swore I'd protect you from every fucker who even looked at you wrong, and not only did I fail at saving you from those fucking worthless pieces of shit who laid their hands on you, but I didn't protect you from myself. Will never forgive myself for that."

Simon's words makes your lower lip tremble again, and you let out something akin to a whimper and sigh before speaking.

"None of that is your fault," you say. "Even though I would've appreciated if you talked to me before just leaving back then, I understand why you didn't. If it was the other way around and I thought you were out with three girls, I would've been crushed. Wouldn't be able to look at you again without breaking into sobs."

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. It's clear that he doesn't take your words to heart, but there's still something in your statement that registers within him.

"You never told me that you cared for me that much." Simon clears his throat, as if the words are a lump stuck in his airways.

You sigh. You know it's true—you held back on saying those three words for months, thinking that the time had to be right and he couldn't possibly feel as strongly as you did. Then he broke up with you and you never got the chance.

"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you everyday, but I was scared that you wouldn't say it back."

Simon scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Y/n. I loved the shit out of you. Thought everyone could see that from the way I trailed after you like a lovesick puppy."

A bittersweet chuckle comes from your lips, shaking your head to yourself. Blinking away tears stuck in your eyelashes. "I should've told you sooner." It's a decibel away from a whisper.

Simon looks at you as if what will come out of your mouth is the most important thing in the world.

"I think I...I still feel that for you. A little bit," you admit. "It's pathetic that I'm still hung up on you after so many years, but it's hard, Simon. Seeing you everyday and not act like we used to."

"Don't you think I haven't wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you every single day these past two weeks?" Simon seethes. "I've jerked off in the bathroom outside my office more times than I can count and literally cried like a pathetic jerk in Johnny's arms the first day you started work 'cause I was still so fucking hurt that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I'm a grown ass man, Y/n, and it was years ago. That's how much you meant to me."

"You cried?" you ask breathily, your head empty except his words echoing. Bend you over my desk.

"I've sobbed like a fucking fool countless times over you. The weekend after I saw you—after I thought that I saw you with them—I went back to my mum's house and wailed like a baby into her chest." Simon chuckles, a bittersweet expression on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"No. None of that shit. I caused it. Should've just asked you instead of taking off. Wasn't man enough for you back then. I'm the one who needs to apologize."

You bite down on your lower lip, doing something akin to a nod as you glance away, out of the window.

"And now?" you ask. "Are you man enough now?"

"Careful, love..." Simon says, his voice strained. "Don't give me hope."

"Hope for what?"

"You know damn fucking well what I'm hoping for," he answers gruffly. You gulp, lips parting to release a shallow breath. His brown eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide from the intensity of his gaze. You know that look.

"Simon, you know I feel the same. You know it." It's nearly a whisper, what comes out of your mouth. Leaning forward just slightly, closer to his face where he's kneeling on the floor. "I already told you earlier that I still—"

Your back is pressed against the cushions of the couch as Simon surges up from his place on the floor. Calloused, tattooed hands grip your face gently as those pink lips you've dreamed about for the past two weeks devour yours desperately. Shuts you up real good.

"I've missed you so fucking much," Simon growls, a certain ferocity in his voice that makes him sound like a beast bowing only for his woman. He kisses you again. "Please. Please let me show you how fucking good I can be to you."

There's no real point in acting as if his words isn't the best thing you've ever heard. You're already panting and preening for him, so acting as if the answer will be anything but yes is futile. You nod furiously, holding onto his wrists.

"Yes. Please, Simon. Yes," you answer breathily, desperately.

The grunt coming from his chest makes your thighs clench together, resonating deeply within your core as the memories of how his touch felt all those years ago spark up every last nerv-ending in your body. Before you even know it, Simon has his large hands on your waist, lifting you up from the couch and sitting down himself. Your thighs straddling his, face to face and chest to chest.

"Ow. Simon, my knee," you say with a chuckle, leaning back enough to keep the pressure off your wounded leg.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, love. Are you alright?" he asks, an instantly guilty expression on his face. Didn't seem to pick up on the laugh from your lips. He looks like someone just kicked a puppy in front of him.

"I'm just fine, Si." Your hands come up to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks underneath your fingertips. "Maybe we shouldn't sit like this, though."

"We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait for as long as you want me to," he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist. It almost makes you cry. He always did that back in uni.

"I'll literally fucking burst if I don't have you inside me within the next ten minutes. We'll work around it. I don't care."

Simon chuckles. A sound that comes from deep within his chest, rumbling and warm and so familiar. It festers within you and sprouts, spreading safety and comfort through your blood. Makes you smile, genuinely. He stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto your thighs.

The bed sinks down underneath your weight as he lowers you down on the sheets, so careful to not touch your now patched up knee.

"Just as desperate for me now as you were then, huh?" Simon teases, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his massive frame hovers above yours.

God, your body remembers. It remembers him so well, surrendering to his rough, deep voice as it whispers into your ear. It's an instant thing you feel—safety and simultaneously giddiness. You giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush, sneaking your arms around Simon's broad shoulders as you nod.

"Mhm, I am," you admit. Without shame. "I've really missed you, Simon. I really have." Your words are softer than before, void of the teasing tone they previously held.

He sighs. Presses his chapped lips to the corner of your mouth, slowly moving down to your jawline, neck. Simon is the toughest, biggest man you know. Curses like a sailor and can snap you in half. But oh, he's so gentle with you. When he wants to, at least. You remember those nights when desperation overtook him, clothes ripping and the breath fucked out of you. And you loved those nights just as much as the ones where he would just trace his lips over your skin for an hour before even touching your by then sickeningly wet folds.

But after years and years of separation and an emotionally wrecking fight that finally led to reunion, gentleness and patience isn't high on your list right now. You want to rip his clothes off and taste him again and feel him inside of you and kiss him even more and touch every inch of his skin. Though, Simon keeps trailing his mouth down your neck, hand inching underneath the hem of your sweatshirt as he hums. The sound makes you giggle. Fucking hell you've missed him.

"Something funny, love?" Simon asks, raising a challenging eyebrow as he lifts his head from your skin.

"Just that sound. Been thinking it about it sometimes."

"Thinking about it, huh?" he probes, pushing your sweatshirt over your head, forcing you to raise your arms. A deep groan comes from his lips as the lace of your bra is revealed to him, the fabric delicate enough to show the outline of your nipple. "Oh, fucking hell. You tryin' to make me come in my goddamn pants, yeah? It's not nice."

"I didn't know you'd see my bra when I put it on this morning, Simon," you chuckle, gaze flickering down to see his frankly hungry gaze.

"Didn't put it on for someone else to see it, did you?" he asks, something akin to doubt in his eyes. Or maybe not doubt, but nervousness.

"No. There's no one else," you admit. "Haven't...been many others since you."

"Not for me either. No one is like you. Tried, but it was bloody useless. Fucking nothing is better than my sweet girl when she's wrapped around my cock."

His statement confuses you for just a second before his hand sneaks it's way underneath your pyjama shorts, cupping your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wetness already soaking your underwear.

"Let me taste you, love," he pleads. You're already squirming, bucking your hips against his hand in search for friction. All you can do to answer is nod, and the second after, your shorts are thrown to your bedroom floor.

"C'mon, sweet girl. Been without you for fucking years. You can give me one more. Just one more," he tells you, pumping his fingers into you deliriously, possessed by the squelching sound your slick and his digits emit.

It's been thirty five fucking minutes of Simon making you come on his tongue and his fingers and then his tongue again. He's currently on his second round of fingering the living breath out of you. You had forgotten how thick his fingers were, and now with those added years of use, more calluses and lines and wrinkles? You haven't been able to utter a full sentence in a good while.

"Holy..." Your head is thrown back onto the pillow, back arching as if you were in a porn video, thighs clamping down on his hand.

"That's my girl. There we go, there we go,” he mutters, in a trance by the sound of it and his lustful stare.

You have to push his hand away after almost a minute of him drawing out your orgasm by lazily continuing to pump his fingers into you, whining when it becomes too much.

“Insatiable fucker,” you mumble as you lay spent on top of the sheets, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on your skin.

And he hasn’t even been inside you yet.

Simon chuckles, that deep rumble that almost sounds like it scratches his insides in some way. A wet, shameless kiss is pressed to your thigh, before he stands up to his full length again. His poor knees must be aching after having been pressed into the floor for so long.

“Missed her. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to spend time with his missus after such a long time, eh?” Simon teases, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“Just c’mere,” you sigh, smiling up at Simon again, the same way you did at 20. Or maybe not the exact same. Things have changed, you have changed. Simon has sure as hell changed. But it’s better. A deeper affection, a deeper understanding.

The blond giant climbs onto the bed, over you, hovering like a wolf ready to pounce yet a gentleness in his hold that draws away the sense of threat. His thumb cups your cheek, brushes over the skin under your eye. And then he kisses you, softly, something you didn’t he know he was capable of. Back then, it was always passion, urgency. Playful, desperate. This is longing.

You sigh against his lips, feeling his chapped skin and the stubble on his chin. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way you have this man over you again. It’s been so long and he’s dozens of pounds heavier with muscle, more tattoos on his skin and scars on his body. But he’s still Simon. And he’s yours.

“Condom? Please for the love of god tell me you have a condom,” he pleads, growls with need against the crook of your neck.

“In the drawer,” you giggle, stretching your arm out in its direction.

He wastes no time. His urgency makes him clumsy, makes you laugh even more, as he tries to tear the wrapper open with his teeth and fails. Gives you a warning glare that does no good job at hiding his fond amusement, while resorting to opening it with his hands like a normal person.

Simon’s hands close around the back of your thighs, pulling your legs up until they press against your stomach. His tip brushes against your wet folds, but his gaze is on your face.

“Ready for me, sweet girl?” he asks, the deep timber of his voice sending literal shivers through you.

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, Simon. Please. Wan’ you inside me,” you plead.

“Mhm, know you do, sweetheart.”

It’s all the warning you get before he grabs a hold of his cock, coating it in your slick, before guiding it towards your dripping hole. Your breath catches in your throat, a whine of discomfort coming from your lips as his thick girth presses into you inch by agonizing inch. And yet it’s so good. Fucking hell, you’ve missed it.

“Holy fuck, I forgot—“ you say, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know the sentiment. You forgot how big he was.

"God you're..." Simon growls, keeping still as he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching around his thick cock once again. "You feel even fucking better. How the fuck did I go without her all these years?"

Tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Don’t know if it’s from the sting, the longing, the pleasure. You’re still all pliant and sensitive from the multiple orgasms he drew out of your earlier.

Simon starts to move, rolling his hips slowly into you. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against your walls, drawing rumbles from his chest.

“Not gonna leave this pretty pussy again, no. ‘S all mine. Needa’ apologize for keeping her lonely for so many years,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The corners of your lips tug upwards.

“Simon,” you whisper, hands entangled into his hair. He tilts his head upwards, looking up at your face. “Fuck me.”

A pleased smirk grows on his face, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so, huh?” he asks, squeezing your thigh, before snapping his hips into yours.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your pathetic bed creaks as Simon bullies his cock into you, the filthy sound of your slick being pushed inside of you filling the room along with the grunts and whines from your mouths.

It’s like a switch turned on in his head when you told him to fuck you, because it’s nearly animalistic. There’s no class or precision in his sloppy thrusts, just desperation.

“Fuck, so sorry, love, but I’m gonna come,” Simon tells you, clenching his jaw tightly with restraint. His large fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he holds them up, his heavy weight flush against you to keep you in a mating press. Despite his words, there’s no shame in them. Just an apology. He wishes he could savor this, but it’s futile. His cock wants something else.

“It’s…it’s okay,” you manage to get out between his thrusts, a smile on your face while his movements grow increasingly sloppy and hurried. “Come for me, baby. It’s okay.”

“So fucking perfect,” he growls, while his thumb finds its way to rub tight circles on your clit. Damn it if he doesn’t make you come one more time. He needs to feel you clenching down on his cock like that. “Gonna make you come again, baby, I promise.”

Your hands paw at his broad back, digging into the chiseled muscles while your thighs wrap around him, bringing him in deeper.

It’s with his face buried into the crook of your neck that he comes with a snarl, heavy breaths likened to the ones belonging to a beast blown right into your ear. Despite his movements stilling, his softening length remains inside of you while his fingers flicker your nub deliriously.

“Uh-huh, I see you, I see you.” He grins, taking note of the bucking of your hips, the way your thighs attempt to press together as they squeeze around his waist.

“Simon,” you whimper, and that’s all it takes for him to press down a little harder, do it a little faster. You let go, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.

“There it is. Look so beautiful when you come on my cock,” he tells you, and you swear you feel him harden again inside of you.

But when you come down from the high, laying there spent and panting, he pulls out so gently. Presses a kiss to the swell of your neck before climbing off the bed and discarding the condom in the bathroom.

“Simon, can you get me a towel?” you ask tiredly, watching his naked figure through the open door.

“Was already on it,” he tells you, stretching his arm out through the spring with the towel in hand, drawing a chuckle from your lips. “Have to take care of my woman. Can’t leave her all messy from taking my cock like the sweet girl she is.”

“You’re so crude,” you say through giggles, Simon walking back into your bedroom.

“Only around you, love,” he answers, kneeling on the bed to dry you off.

“That’s a lie. A big fat lie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The soft fabric drags against your skin, soaking up the trails of your wetness coating your inner thighs and your folds. So meticulous, careful with each movement. Neat-freak.

“I love you.”

His head tilts up, brown eyes keeping you still under his gaze. And then he smiles. Skin by his eyes crinkling, white teeth showcased, towel discarded onto the floor. He covers your body with his, arms sneaking around your waist to roll you on top of him.

“I love you, sweet girl. ‘S probably gonna be the death of me, but like hell if I’m gonna do anything else than love you,” he whispers, dragging the duvet over your bodies.

Your body goes soft, pliant, in his hold. Comfortable silence fills the non-existing space between you, his breathing the only thing you can hear. Your eyes almost shutter closed when Simon speaks up again.

"I am so fucking you in my office on Monday," Simon tells you, chin on top of your head, your cheek on his chest. You can't see his face, but you know there's a boyish grin on his lips.

You just chuckle tiredly.

"Mr. Price would literally kill the both of us if he found out."

"Tough luck, love. I'm having you on my desk. End of discussion," he teases, squeezing your hip gently.

"You're insatiable."

"And you're beautiful. And sexy, and gorgeous, and entirely fucking mine," he whispers, growls, into your ear. "So we're christening my office on Monday, yeah?"

"You're taking the blame if Price walks in."

"Gladly. By Monday afternoon, nobody in our office will have any doubts about who I belong to."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Future Mr. Y/l/n Riley. You better fucking believe,” he says. “Just gonna get Shepherd fired and gauge his eyes out first.”

“Simon.”

“Yes. Nobody fucks with my woman.”

TAGLIST: @keendreamnight @xxkay15xx @evie-119 @darkravenqueen98 @naxxsstuff @sirens-and-moonflowers @narcoticv3nus @igotmajordaddyissues @fallenkitten @darling006 @iloveloveeducks @accio-serotonin

#cod fanfic #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #back to december

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 3 months

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆 (𝑫𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏)

I wanted to do this cute little writing challenge @carolmunson created. You can find the rules here

CW: Eddie munson x reader, fluff. New relationship. Mention of weed at least once. suggestive theme toward the end, but it's nothing bad, really. A little moment of self depreciation.

WC:1.9k

prompt rules: the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer.

props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" ; "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." ; "and you like that?" ; "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

A/n: Not proofread, so please ignore any mistakes. My first time doing a writing challenge, and this one was too adorable to pass up.

5:00 pm

Eddie was busy rushing around the trailer, making sure it was clean and perfect before you came over. You and him haven't been dating for too long now. He still wanted to make a good impression on you. His original plan was to take you out on a nice romantic date, but as his luck would have it, he just couldn't afford to right now.

So he opted to suggest for you to come by and have a nice romantic date at his place instead. Which you were all for. Eddie zoomed around the place with a tiny notebook in his hand. He had literally everything planned out for how the night is supposed to go.

He even cooked and baked for you. He doesn't even do that for himself. He was dead serious about you. No more chickening out just because he's scared of the possibility of getting hurt.

You met at the Hideout in town when you first moved to Hawkins. He helped get you a job there by sweet talking the owner. Since then, he's been following you around like a lost puppy

Eddie finished having the entire living room set up for you two. Throw pillows everywhere along with extra blankets. Little tea light candles on saucer plates are scattered about. He kicked his uncle wayne out hours ago to set everything up for your date. He wanted the mood and setting to be just how envisioned it.

He would religiously check his watch over and over again. You weren't late by any means. Eddie was just getting impatient. He wanted you here so bad. He needed you to see what all he's done.

5:30 pm rolls around.

Soft knocks on his door alerted that you were finally here.

You were standing on his porch, waiting for him to answer. You still held the little note he left you after work in your hand.

Hey, babe, I hope you're still ready for our date tonight. I know I am. You don't need to bring anything but yourself. I have everything we need. Miss you already.

- Eddie ᡣ𐭩

You reread it as you waited for him to open up for you. You didn't want to just barge in even though he's told you many times you absolutely could.

You knock again.

"Comin" His muffled voice yelled from inside. You could hear his feet pounding on the floor as he swung open the door.

"Hey!" You greeted with a big smile. "Can I come in?"

He opened the door fully ,ushering you inside with a slight bow. "Shit, yeah, come in. come in."

You walked in and stood by the front door, looking around, you noticed how he decorated and cleaned up for you. You smiled to yourself thinking about all the trouble he's gone through tonight just for you.

"You can have a seat or keep me company in the kitchen." He stood next to you but kept some distance.

"I'd love to. Ya need me to help with anything?" You walked slowly behind him to stand behind the counter.

Eddie definitely didn't want you to help. The only thing he needed you to do was simply be here. That's it. That's all he needed. Your presence and showing up were enough for him.

"Nope." He shook his head, continuing to spread vanilla frosting on the cupcakes he made.

You could tell he was nervous. He shouldn't be. While you haven't been dating for long, you figured you two were past being nervous around each other. Eddie did warn you that he wasn't always the best at relationships. He tried to be. He truly did. His fears of heartbreak and rejection are what held him back from opening up to someone. He wanted to change all of that with you. You still gave him a chance despite all of that.

There was silence for a couple of minutes as you stand next time. "Sooo, whatcha cookin? smells good."

"Spaghetti and for dessert homemade cupcakes straight from Betty crocker herself." Eddie glanced your way to see if he got a smile from you. Even better, he got a laugh out of you.

"Do you mind if I have one now?" You batted your lashes at him. You loved innocently flirting with him. He would get all flustered, and his cheeks would get red.

He looked between you and the cupcakes that he attempted at frosting. "Sure." He couldn't say no.

He was sucker for you already. You had him wrapped around your finger, and you didn't even know it.

You picked up a tiny cupcake that was covered in ninety percent icing. You took a big bite, getting the vanilla frosting all over your lips and nose. Eddie watched in amusement with a small blush on his cheeks.

"Hang on, let me do something." He leans forward, giving the tip of your nose a quick kiss. "You had some frosting from the cupcake-"

Your face got hot as you realized he was kissing away the frosting.

"I have icing on my lips, too." You teased. You wanted to poke the bear and see how far you could go. Eddie took the hint and knew you were messing with him.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine." He puckered up his lips to give you a sweet kiss. "The frosting tastes way better this way."

You can tell he's loosening up the longer you're alone with him. At first, he seemed on edge. As if he was still trying his hardest to impress you. Or to do his best and not scare you off. He didn't have to worry about a thing. You were just as serious about him as he was about you.

You noticed a small black notebook on the counter next to splatters of spaghetti sauce. You sneakily make your way over to it and have peak while he's busy. His eyes were trained on making little smiley faces on the cupcakes. Flipping through the pages, you saw how he wrote down tonight's schedule for your date. He had everything planned out down to if he'd ask you to spend the night or let you leave.

Turning the next page, you found little love notes scribbled through made out to you. You glance his way, and he's still busy huming to himself while adding sprinkled to the cupcakes. You closed it and sneakily put it back. The tiny notebook seemed very personal from the quick glimpse you got from it. Either way, your heart was melting at the thought of Eddie wanting this night to be perfect.

"I figured we could chill out in the living room while we eat. Watch some movies, too."Eddie spoke up.

"Sounds perfect to me." You stepped out of the kitchen to lounge back on his couch.

Eddie followed behind you with two big bowls of spaghetti he made. "I'll get the drinks for us. Anything special? Water? Soda?"

You grabbed your bowl from his hands. "Got any Doctor Pepper?"

"I suuuuure do." He winked.

He rushed back in with a beer in one hand and a plastic cup full of ice with your drink in the other. "I ran out of like, nice cups, Is this okay?"

"Yes, Eddie I wasn't expecting to drink, Dr. Pepper from a champagne glass." You carefully took your drink.

"Listen -" He paused, sitting next to you. "I just want you to know you mean a lot to me. And if i could provide it, all of your drinks would be poured in some fancy ass cup." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt awkward after saying that, but it was all true.

Eddie really wasn't a pro at this sort of thing. he hoped by now you knew how special already are to him. Even with his shitty analogies. He hoped you got the message.

"That was...one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me." You took a big sip, Dr Pepper smiling in your cup.

"You're such a smartass."

Now, it was his turn to laugh. He got up and went over to the tv, picking up the three movies he "rented."

"Went to family video got a couple of things to watch - and a special one for later." He wiggled his eyebrows. The "special one" was literally Star Wars. He's been dying to watch it with you ever since you told you never seen it.

You rolled your eyes. "That guy Steve give you a deal?"

"Sure did. All I had to do was give an ounce for free." Eddie held up three VHS tapes in one hand, showing his victory.

"Okay, then what movie are we watching first?" You nodded, taking the throw pillow next to you in your lap.

"What about critters?" He suggested.

You shook your head and grimaced. "Eww !no, that movie is stupid it's just a bunch of hairballs attacking people."

Eddie snorts, popping the movie into the vcr anyway." Now you know how my uncle wayne feels cleaning out our shower drain."

You fake gagged. The last thing you want to imagine is globs of Eddie's hair being pulled from a shower drain as you eat.

"So, ummm, I was thinking," it was your turn to get a nervous now. "Are you free tomorrow?"

He frowned. "No. I wish. I have my D&D club to...morrow." He started to hesitate through speaking.

"D&d club?" You repeated. "Dungeons and Dragons? That kind of D&d?"

"Yep." He spoke a little too loud and a little too fast.

The intro to the movie is already playing, but neither one of you are interested.

"And you like that sort of stuff?" You quickly realized how that probably came off wrong, and it's not how you intended. "I mean, you just never mentioned it before."

Truth is, he doesn't know why he never mentioned it. Maybe it's because he was always told it was just a fantasy game. That he was too old to be playing it. Eddie didn't care what anyone thought of him except for you. Which deep down is probably why he didn't tell you.

"Yeah, sweetheart, you're dating a bit of a loser." He sighed. Any minute now, he was expecting you to make fun of him. Or call him a loser, too.

That never came.

He shouldn't assume you would see him like that. Primarily over something harmless as playing Dungeon and Dragons.

Make no mistake Eddie didn't view himself as a loser either. He got too accustomed to hearing people calling him that based on the way he dressed and his hobbies. He didn't see himself that way, but others did.

Your face softens "aw don't be like that. That's not even true!"

You looked at him for a moment. Taking in his side profile. You could tell he was slowly slipping into a funk, and you didn't want that.

You by no means have ever thought Eddie was a loser. He was a sweet, gentle, and very caring guy. A little hyper at times. But you loved that about him too.

"I'd like to watch you play sometime. If you wouldn't mind."

Eddies eyes light up. "I could always teach you how to play instead."

"I'd love that. Why didn't you tell me any of this?" You turned your body so you're now facing him. You were still hugging that throw pillow so tight.

"Well, I was trying to play hard to get. if I told you I was a dungeon master for my club-" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he continued on.

He was trying to lighten up the mood a bit more. "You wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me. bad enough, you couldn't seem to resist my gorgeous hair."

Eddie waved a hand through his hair, letting it fly over his shoulder. He was cut short when you decided to take that throw pillow from your lap and thwap the back of his head with it.

"Ow!" He laughed, looking at you in shock.

"Your hair is hard to resist," your tone matching his sarcasm, "and miss." You mumbled under your breath.

"Oh please, I'm irresistible." He chuckled.

You went to go strike him again with the pillow, but this time, he caught it.

"If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." Eddie playfully warned, snatching the throw pillow from your hands.

"Oooh, and what exactly are you gonna do about it?" You taunted.

"I dunno maybe kiss you again. Maybe I'll touch you a little bit, see if I can get you to squirm." He smirked and bit his lip, waiting for your reaction.

That shy nervous wreck of a man that greeted you at the front door was long now.

Your eyes widened as you huffed. "Shut up, Eddie."

"Thought so, now watch the movie our date isn't over yet."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #writing challenge #eddie munson fluff

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bettsfic · 7 months

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Writing q: do you/did you ever feel like there's a dichotomy between writing something fun and light and tropey & writing something good/that you're proud of? I'm trying to write a romcom-esque multichap fic that ends happily but I keep running into this mental block that it's not Serious Work so it can't be what i would consider good (which is hilarious because a) its all fanfiction none of it is serious?? and b) i know that's not true!) lmao. Was jw if you have any thots on this

i've got an analogy for you.

before i started writing, i was really into baking. back then i was not only a perfectionist but an extremist. i believed that REAL baking meant using the rawest possible ingredients. the idea of store-bought puff pastry or pie crusts was appalling to me.

and every year i baked a pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. to bake the pumpkin pie, i had to go out at early o'clock in the morning on a saturday to my local farmer's market and pick out the most perfect pumpkins. and i don't know if you've ever baked pumpkin pie with real pumpkins but it takes a long damn time. and it's hard. and so i baked the pumpkins for hours and scraped out the innards and made a puree, and i roasted the seeds for a snack. and amid all that, i made the crust from scratch too.

the pie always turned out! so i kept making it that way. until one year i just wasn't up to the task, and instead swallowed my pride and bought canned pumpkin and a premade crust.

and it tasted exactly the same as the pie that took me an entire day to make. it was also much cheaper, because in our era of industry, the processed stuff has become more affordable than the raw stuff unless you grow it yourself. (and believe me, i wanted to.)

the only difference i could discern was in the texture, because canned pumpkin is pureed more than i could puree real pumpkin. canned pumpkin also has other kinds of gourds in it, but that doesn't really affect the taste. i also felt bad for not supporting my local farmers. but it was worth it to be able to bake a pie from start to finish in 90 minutes.

for so many years i had it in my head that if a process is harder, the result is better. it was that mentality that kept me in a job i hated for a long time. it's hard and i don't like it, therefore it's more serious and respectable. it was unconscionable to me to think that something fun and easy could result in something good.

when you're writing fanfiction or anything where you're relying on the audience's knowledge of something else (like tropes), you can get it in your head that it's inherently easier and therefore worse. and because it's a skill, in order to become better at it, you have to challenge yourself. to challenge yourself, you have to make it harder.

but you're making something. you're putting words on a page in formations that have never existed before. that's hard, period. you don't have to make it harder. your readers will value it regardless of the challenge you give yourself. every thanksgiving, my family just appreciated that i had baked a pie. they didn't care how i'd baked it or what ingredients i used. yes, the longer and more difficult process created a product i was more proud of than the shorter, easier process. but you can't taste pride.

this is something i have to remind myself of all the time, because my instinct is to make everything more difficult than it has to be. you're always going to be your own worst critic, in part because you're the only one who knows your own process and the blood, sweat, and tears you put into it. but ultimately, nobody cares about the pumpkins. all they want is the pie.

#writing advice #process

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itsscromp · 7 months

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Had fnaf idea in my head ever since seeing the movie. Was trying to find people who were doing fnaf movies ideas and remembered I'd seen your ask box! Love your works btw

So I had this idea of night guard! Reader whose terrified of the animatronics and try not to get too close to them. But needs the money. And one night someone tries to break into the pizzeria and the animatronics protect them from being hurt/mugged

If your asks aren't open then feel free to ignore this, ♥️

FNAF animatronics x reader

Oohhhh yes yes yes, I love this idea very much anon. I swear this movie has reawakened my childhood. Word count:943

You were incredibly strapped for cash, The last job barely kept you afloat, you weren't able to pay your rent or afford your groceries. you were running out of options really fast. Heading to your career's councillor Steve Raglan. He said that there may be a job for you.

A security guard at the old pizzeria, but the place was abandoned. why would you be offered a job like that ??. He stated that the owner was just not ready to let it go yet. Not to mention, they had those creepy ass animatronics... There was just something about them that sent shudders up your spine. Maybe it was how life-sized they looked or the way they moved... its just... *shudders*

But right now you didn't have any choice, so you took the job. Your first shift was the next night, 12 a.m. on the dot. You entered the pizzeria and looked around, it was very retro. Save for the dust everywhere. You then noticed the stages on the far end. Was it where... they were housed.

"Keep walking keep walking...." You said to yourself, But for one reason or another, your feet kept walking to the stage. Your hand reached the curtain as you pulled it back, turning on your flashlight and got scared when the first face you saw was bonnie the bunny.

"Nope, not having it"

You rushed to the office immediately, not wanting to look at them one bit.

Once in your office you switched on the power, the pizzeria now buzzing with life as if it was never changed one bit. Switching on the camera's the first thing you saw was the animatronics again, this time two more you didn't see. Chica the chicken and Freddy Fazbear.

You also noticed another stage nearby, but the curtains were closed with the sign 'Out of order' on the front. Whatever that was behind their, you didn't want to find out.

Over a couple of nights, when you entered for work. You rushed straight to your office, not wanting to even look at them. God why did you have to be scared of animatronics ??.

Spying the camera's again, you just saw the same stuff as last time, but what the camera's didn't pick up was the back.

"Come on hurry up !!" A person in a hood said.

"I'm trying man !!" Another said as they tried to pick at the lock of the roller door before managing to unlock it.

"Alright, you know what to do"

The two entered the pizzeria with the malicious intent of robbing the place. the cameras picked them up near the supply closet. You quickly got up and investigated.

"Who's there ?? Come on out right now" You shouted.

"Shit, run !!!" They immediately bolted, you began to rush for them.

"HEY !!!!"

You ran after them leading back to the main area of the pizzeria, where you were met with a chair to the face, knocking you over to the floor as you were instantly jumped on, one with their foot on your arm holding it as well.

"Piss off and leave us be, or you'll get what's coming, kid !!!" He warned as the other began to search you for your wallet, phone and car keys.

"Get off !!!' You tried to squirm out but this only increased the pressure on your arm, threatening to break. "Gaah !!"

"Got their keys, come on !!" the thief said as he got up and turned to the entrance, only to be met by a large figure... It's eyes glowing red. It was Freddy Fazbear.

"What the he..." Before he could even say a full sentence, Freddy quickly turned the tables. Grabbing his arm and breaking it, Making him fall over. screaming in pain.

"Th/n !!" His accomplice shouted as he tried to help him only to be met with a sharp pain in his ankle. What looked like a cupcake which was a part of Chica's set was biting him, Even it and Chica's eyes were glowing red. You scrambled to the corner watching the madness ensue in such confusion. How were the animatronics moving on their damn own !!!, Someone had to be controlling them. But how could they if you were the only damn one here !!

Two more animatronics emerged, Bonnie and one that came from the Out of order stage, It looked like it spent a lot of time inside there from how damaged its body was. The fox animatronic then slashed one thief across the back with its hook, drawing blood. Letting out a blood curling scream as they immediately retreated.

You were scared. Fully and petrifying scared, Seeing what they were capable of, You hid your face from them. Completely frozen in fear. But what you didn't expect was Freddy's hand gently as a feather placed on your shoulder, almost in a way comforting you.

You started to hesitantly look up at them all, Their eyes all no longer red. Back to their natural colours. They all gave you a comforting look.

"Your... You're not going to hurt me ??" You asked them all cautiously.

Bonnie closed his eyes and shook his shoulders as if he was giggling, In a way saying "No we won't hurt you".

Freddy helped you up and gently brought you in for a hug. You couldn't help but smile at them, Wrapping your arms around his body.

"Thank you guys"

The others gave you a cute look Like they just met a new best friend for their little group. And that is what it exactly was. Maybe they weren't so bad after all...

Part 2 ??

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board @gooptoshi

#platonic #reader insert #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #Freddy fazbear #Chica the chicken #Bonnie the bunnie #Foxy the pirate #fnaf x reader #fazgang x reaer

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archangeldyke-all · 7 months

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Any thoughts on ….Modern AU sugar mommy Sev seducing a pretty girl 👀 fucking her like she‘s never been fucked before👀if you‘re comfortable obviously 👉🏻👈🏻

soooo many thoughts on this... wow anon... so so so many thoughts.

men and minors dni

let's do virgin!reader for this one because virgins need love too goddammit!

sevika's looking for a girl to spoil.

to put it plainly, she's fucking rich. she's worked for every penny she's earned, and now all she wants to do is save a pretty girl from ever having to get their hands dirty ever again. she just wants someone to dote on, someone to love on, someone to fuck into incoherence.

the first few girls she meets are... fine. but she doesn't click with any of them. she's on the brink of giving up on her hunt entirely when she meets you.

funnily enough, you guys meet when she crashes her car into yours. she was turning left into a parking lot you were exiting, and when she caught sight of you behind your wheel she gets so distracted by your pretty face that she cuts her turn too far and nicks the side of your bumper.

you break down in tears as the two of you pull over to exchange information. you apologize profusely, swearing you don't mean to cry, explaining that you can't afford any more up-charges on your insurance, that you just paid off all your credit card debt and now you were gonna have to dip into the negative again.

sevika's heart breaks. (and her clit throbs a bit.)

she wraps you up in a hug, and assures you she'll take care of it.

you stop crying eventually, and sevika programs her number into your phone.

she asks to meet you later in the week for coffee to discuss the damages, all of which she promises to pay for. you agree, giving her a time you're free.

you're shocked when you show up to the 'cafe' sevika chose, and you're escorted to a table in the back of a classy restaurant, where sevika is waiting in a blazer and button up. she looks... good. you're slightly confused.

you apologize for your appearance, your jeans and t shirt feeling inadequate in a place this classy. sevika calls you cute.

you order a water and sevika glares at you.

"get food." she says. you blink.

"oh-- i can't afford--"

"i'm paying." she says. she stares at you from across the table, like she's waiting for you to challenge her.

"oh. thank you so much." you say.

it's now that you start to suspect that sevika might have ulterior motives with this meeting. you're not at all upset by it.

you and sevika get to know each other over lunch, chatting and laughing and quickly falling into a familiar camaraderie with each other.

when the bill arrives, you're expecting her to ask you out again.

you aren't expecting her to ask you to be her sugar baby.

you choke on your water.

eventually, once you catch your breath and sevika manages to stop laughing, she bluntly explains her terms to you.

"i'm rich. you're not. i like you, and i want to spend more time with you. if you're into that, i'd also like to... provide for you." she says, her eyes are hungry as they stare you down across the table.

"i'm a virgin." you choke out. sevika raises an eyebrow.

"really?" she asks. you roll your eyes.

"no! i mean-- there's nothing wrong with that!" she says, reaching across the table to grab your hand. "you're just so fuckin' pretty i'm surprised no one's... gotten to you yet." she finishes weakly. you laugh. "i'm okay with taking it slow." sevika says. "i'd prefer it that way, actually." she adds. you blink at her. "you can call it off at anyti--"

"yes." you butt in. "sure. let's do it." sevika grins across the table at you.

sevika's version of 'take it slow' and your version of 'take it slow' end up being totally different things.

when you said 'take it slow' you meant waiting until you tust sevika enough to let her be your first. this ends up being at the very beginning of your third date, when sevika shows up at your door with flowers she picked from her neighbor's front yard when she couldn't find any 'pretty enough' in the store for you

when sevika said 'take it slow' she meant she gets off on making you wait, on watching you squirm and paw at her and beg her to fuck you, only for her to kiss you soundly and walk you home.

she makes you wait. six. fucking. months.

she times it down to the day of your six month anniversary. she takes you guys on a weekend getaway, and rents you a luxury room with a beautiful view.

when you arrive, there's champagne waiting on ice and rose petals on the bed.

you don't notice this, of course, because before you can even flick the lightswitch on sevika is pressing against you, her hands groping your flesh as she walks you toward the bed. you spin in her grip to kiss her, moaning against her mouth.

"fuckin' finally." you grunt as you start scrabbling at sevika's shirt. she chuckles, then throws you down on the bed.

"slow, baby, slow." she says above you. you roll your eyes, reaching down to snatch your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy one piece lingerie you were hiding beneath your clothes. at the sight of it, sevika whimpers. you giggle.

"been waiting my entire fuckin' life, we can be a little faster than slow." you demand. sevika nods, hypnotized by your tits, as she starts stripping her own body.

you scramble out of your clothes as sevika runs to her suitcase to pull the strap and lube out.

when she returns to the bed, she takes a moment to simply admire you. then she pries your legs open and dives into your cunt face first.

she inhales deeply against the thin warm wet fabric of your lingerie, whining as she gets a whiff of your arousal. "fuck." she growls out. you moan above her. "tell me to stop and i'll stop." she commands. you nod.

the next thing you know, sevika's warm tongue is pressing against your covered cunt. you whimper above her as she devours you. between your thighs, sevika is moaning and whimpering in response to the way you flinch and whine.

"you're so sensitive." she gasps, her hands coming up to rub on your pussy as she kisses up and down your thighs.

she slides your panties aside, gasping when your cunt is revealed to her. "fuck." she whispers. "oh, baby." you whine above her.

"sevika, please--"

"you want my fingers?" she asks. you nod. sevika sinks a finger into you, and you gasp.

she's deeper than you've ever been able to reach before, filling you better than your fingers ever could with just one of her strong thick fingers. as she slowly begins pumping in and out of you, she gasps.

"you're tight." she whispers. you sputter a laugh between your gentle moans.

"i'm a virgin."

"not anymore" sevika says cockily. you laugh, then gasp when sevika's finger begins rubbing against your g spot. "there?" sevika asks. you're too busy writhing against the sheets to respond.

sevika licks your clit gently as she continues massaging your g spot. with her free hand, she gently guides one of your hands down to her scalp, so you can tangle your fingers in her hair and press her face more firmly against your cunt. she chuckles when your hips start grinding against her tongue, lips and nose.

"i'm gonna--" you choke out. sevika's moans against you, nodding and sucking your clit into her mouth. you cum against her face, gasping and scratching her scalp.

as your cunt flutters, sevika sinks a second finger inside you.

the sudden stretch makes you cum again, just seconds after the first, your cunt pulsing and dripping around sevika's fingers and down her lips.

sevika's humping the bed by your feet, whimpering into your cunt as she licks up your cum.

she continues to fuck you slowly with her two thick fingers as you tug her up by her hair for a kiss. between the smacking sound of your lips meeting, the only sound in the room is the squishy wet sounds coming between your legs.

"i love you." sevika whispers against your lips.

you whimper and gasp, your legs clenching around her hand. "sev!" you choke out. she looks down at you. "get your fuckin' cock in me already." you groan. sevika laughs, pulling away to lube up the strap around her waist. she lines it up with your hole, kissing you repeatedly as she teasingly nudges the tip against your clit.

you have your own toys-- you know what the stretch will feel like. but sevika's cock is big, bigger than you've ever taken, and for a second, anxiety overtakes you.

"baby." sevika's voice rings out above you. you glance up at her. "we don't have to." she says. her assurance is all you need.

you want this. you want sevika. you want her thick cock. you want her to be your first. you know you're safe with her, you know she'll stop if you ask. sevika'll always take care of you. she's-- oh shit-- she's the love of your life. you gasp up at her, tears bubbling in your eyes.

"you okay?" she asks, panicked. you nod repeatedly, reaching up to wrap your hands around her shoulders.

"please sev, please, please, please." you whisper against her ear. "i love you so much i want you so bad you're the only one i want please--" sevika cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, one of her hands snaking between the two of you to line her cock up to your pulsing hole. the tip catches on your rim and you gasp against her lips. she shoves her tongue in your mouth at the same moment that she thrusts the first three inches of her dick inside you.

your back arches off the bed, your fingers scrabbling at sevika's back, your cunt clenching around her cock.

"relax. relax. deep breaths." she whispers in your ear. you gasp, and kick your heel against her ass. "ow, what, you want me to pull out?" she asks.

"more!" you manage to screech. sevika freezes above you, before grinning down at you. she pins your legs to the bed beneath you, watching as she slowly feeds your soaking wet cunt inch after inch of her cock. your abdomen trembles, your thighs shake, and sevika's pupils may as well be heart shaped.

when her hips meet your ass, she grins down at you. "took it all, baby." she whispers, impressed. you're pretty sure you're going to cum if she keeps looking at you like that.

"fuck me." you squeak out. sevika grins.

she starts with small grinding circles, pulling out an inch and sinking back in quickly.

when you start threatening to kill her if she doesn't hurry up, she starts pulling out half way before thrusting back in, the head of her cock brushing against your g spot on every thrust. you begin to tremble beneath her.

"sev i'm gonna--"

"yeah, cum on this cock, baby." she grunts. "'s all yours." she says, her thrusts getting harder, as you begin to clench beneath her.

"sevika--"

"'n this pussy's mine isn't it?" she asks above you. you gasp and nod, reaching down to toy with your clit as sevika's thrusts get harder and harder. "there you go baby. play with that pussy. make yourself cum on this cock, baby, be a good girl and cum on my--"

"sev!" you scream as you cum, squirting around her strap and scrabbling at her back. sevika grins down at you.

"there you go baby, that's a good girl." she coos. you whimper. "you're fuckin' perfect, baby, i love you so much. i'm gonna fuckin' wreck this pussy." she mumbles, drunk on the sight of you and unaware of how nasty she's being. you giggle beneath her. sevika's dirty smirk melts into a loving grin as she swoops down to kiss you. "you're amazing." she says against your lips, her cock still buried inside you. you giggle against her lips.

"i'm so glad you hit my car."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika x you #sevika smut

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wayfayrr · 4 months

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Ohhhh! I really like the people pleaser idea, especially as someone who has been called out as a people pleaser before...

Something that comes to my mind is the people pleasing coming from not just the need for approval but also for survival. Like, there's being 'fight' or 'flight' responses, there's also 'fawn': pleasing and appeasing the needs of someone else in order to avoid conflict and to establish a sense of safety.

<3<3<3

You pulled an accidental isekai and landed into Hyrule with nothing but the clothes on your back and maybe a few personal items.

You don't know where you are. You don't know who or what snagged you away, except for that, it had red eyes and that it might come back to tie loose ends. It'll come back to finish you off in a place that wasn't home.

You'll eventually find a group of men. Maybe you had eventually pass out, and they found your body? Maybe you happened to accidently stumble upon them, immediatly tense at the sight of their weapons.

When your story is spilled through shallow breaths, being pulled from your home because of a red-eyed beast, you’re met with quiet speculation and suspicion. Because Why — why were you taken in the first place? You weren't someone that had faced enemies born from hatred, nor did you have the hero's spirit; could you even be considered a threat with how you intentionally made yourself small in their prescence. Too afraid to take up an ounce space. Too afraid to do something that'll be considered out of line, something that could leave you bleeding if you weren’t careful.

It was agreed upon that you would join their group. It's not like you had anywhere to go.

You would struggle trying to keep up with them. You’re not used to so much walking or the monster encounters. (Especially the monster encounters) After a particulary close call that left you in the healing hands of Hyrule, you quickly realized how much you genuinely lacked compared to the others. Not in a self-deprecating way, but in a sense that you are, objectively speaking, dead weight.

You can't fight. You can't strategize. You get tired too easily. It felt humiliating when the literal child could find the courage to hold up his sword while you flinch at your own shadow.

You couldn't do anything without the chain. You couldn't survive without the chain. You’re dead without chain. The only words that fell from your lips was a simple “Thank you” to the traveler. Your wounds were healed but your heart felt heavier than it ever was before. Thankful, you were truly thankful to them for everything.

There was a new found hesitancy in your actions and words. Every sentence was carefully constructed, but your go-to would be silence, sometimes it felt better to not speak — speaking could cause conflict. And you couldn’t afford to cause conflict with the men that are keeping you alive. You also couldn’t afford leeching off of their kindness like a parasite, so you tried to find ways to be useful to them. You have to show them you can be as helpful and useful so there wouldn’t be a need to leave you behind. Try to stay in their good graces, and to make their more happy moods stay a little longer — keep an eye on the slightest change in demeanor, the subtle hints of anger and minimize that immediatly.

You couldn’t afford to lose their approval when they’re the only hand that kept you alive.

Anon holy shit your brain, I love all of this. it's so perfect.

it's so natural for reader to act like that as a defence mechanism too, they don't know the people they're with - or why they seem so intent on letting them travel with them when they're 'useless'. I'd love to see more of your take on it too because the fawn reaction was something I'd overlooked when rambling earlier and 👀👀 it's a good one

#opening tumblr to this was the best treat I could have ever imagined <3 #like??? ong it's so good #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe #moss✦answers #not my writing

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

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Mikey is the type to have a crush and won’t do shit about it, but then you get a boyfriend and he’ll beat the fuck out of him and go "i dIdn’t dO shIt" like 'bitch, you still got the blood on yo hands'

But like think about the sex afterward like 😩 i don’t like you or anything, i just fuck you like you’re the only one i need. I swear i don’t like you… i just hold you abit too long after we’re done. Of course it was a mistake, it won’t happen again… until you got a new bitch, in that case, he better know how to catch these hands.

Please I'd be such a whore for him such a cocksucker such an open-

Word count : near to 1000

But YES, I can totally see him denying it 'til his last breath.

Kanto manji were his darkest days, Manjiro had lost it all, family, friends, you were the only one who he let stay.

Well, not really let, but you were too stubborn to leave no matter how blood stained were his deeds. You promised, to yourself, to Shin, and to him to always stay, and you would.

And everyone he allowed to stay around him, mainly the Kanto members could see the invisible red strings tying you together, it seems you two were the only oblivious ones.

No he couldn't afford love, he could not afford happiness.

Those nights were full of lures, no matter how beautiful you looked in his bed, face lit by the moonlight seeping through the window. Yet another slip, another lingering touch of yours in his face got you wrapped in the bedsheets he only yearned to when you were around.

But the morning comes and the other side of the bed would be cold, and you'd leave with grace once again, no word, no question marks.

The ghost of his touches still stinging over your flesh, and you wearing them proudly as your battle scars. Because if he was the king in the darkness, you were his soldier.

Yet someday you'll figure out you deserved better, you'll understand you lost yourself trying to find him, and remove the dagger of him from your heart, start the healing process.

But he never thought that day would come that fast...

Watching from not that far, watching the fire in you burning again after the frozen kingdom he put you through, watching another man lighting you up.

He should be happy for you, he should acknowledge he's no good for you... Instead he felt like losing the last string tying him to life, the path to that dimly lit candle only burning when your hands are on him.

-" What the hell you doin' here ?" You frowned seeing the Haitani brothers coming toward you and your date in the park , Ran couldn't quite tell anything. He liked you a lot, he also knew it was wrong, that you deserved better, but it was his boss' order after all.

-" C'mon, just come with us, don't make it harder than it already is. " That was Rindou, gently grabbing your arm to make you stand up, you glanced up at your date of the night, he stood up, probably ready to stop the Haitani brothers but his face fell as soon as another shadow appeared in the park, some steps away from your bench.

-" Manjiro... ?"

You tried freeing yourself from the boys holding you, no use, their grip was firmer now. Standing in front of you two, Mikey could practically hear the million questions your eyes were sending him, behind the deafening cries of his demons, therefore his eyes never left your new boy toy.

His eyes only crossed yours for a second, stealing your breath before they met Ran's purple one's again. A nod, just a nod from him and they were already dragging you away.

Yes, he was the king of madness. But he would rather not stain your innocence. Because villains are not born, they're made of insecurities, of hopes that someday someone would love their monstrous side, and you seemed to do.

No question marks, again. When he would come back later to his bedroom where the boys have locked you, under his command, sure, hands all bloody, you knew better than to ask, wasn't even the first time.

-" It can't go on this way "

-" I know" he'd whisper, forehead against yours, bloody knuckles caressing your soft cheeks.

-" You should let me go " you'd utter between two feverish kisses.

-" I wish I fucking could. "

Then he'd be laying you down on his bed, feather-like touches, hesitant fingers, blood stained fingers.

-" That's it, cum for me" another kiss on your throbbing clit would bring you closer to your high.

And the dark night in his eyes was a starry one when he looked at your body under him, sinking deeper in you and throwing his head back.

Funny how, it was in the tightest corner of you that he finally felt accepted, enough.

-" Feel me here ?" Calloused hand reached to place yours over the bulge in your lower belly, you nodded, lightheaded with pleasure. " Only I can love you this deep "

-" Say it. Say this pretty pussy's mine. "

Soft kisses on your left breast.

-" Say there's only me in this fucking heart "

No, he would not say the suffocating words in his throat.

But he would hold you close the night. Do what people do when they can't sleep, stargazing, but at your sleeping face.

Murderous arms around you careful not to crush you as if you were made of glass.

His hands a weapon, and you were nothing but skin, and someone else could probably make you happier.

But then you open your sleepy eyes to look at him, and you're again, part of his flesh he could not rip away.

-" Sleep. " His dark glance commands. "Worry not. Ain't got nowhere better to go"

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lavender-romancer · 10 months

Text

I'd Do Anything

Part Two

Tommy Shelby x Reader

You met when you were sixteen and from there, your lives ebbed and flowed closer and further away from one another but there was always something that brought you together.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Previous chapter

1911

Graduation was only slightly stressful. You and the other women in your college were in a small group together afterwards swapping stories about how daunting it was to stick out that much in a cohort. Looking past some of them you saw Tommy walking out of the cathedral with a cigarette in his mouth and you smiled before running over to him.

"How was I?" You asked as you hugged him.

"You looked beautiful." Tommy said with a smile, kissing you on the cheek.

"I'm so happy it's over now and I don't have to worry about it." You rubbed your hand up and down Tommy's arm.

"I can't believe I have a friend so insanely clever." Tommy gushed and you rolled your eyes to hide the pang in your stomach at the reminder that you were friends.

"If you focussed you'd be able to do the same thing with a scholarship. You're just too clever for your own good." You raised your eyebrow and Tommy laughed.

"I don't have enough interest in anything to do a degree in it. Three years on one thing sounds like a nightmare." Tommy took a drag of his cigarette.

"Let's go to the pub please!" You announced with a smile before walking down the cobblestones.

You and Tommy went to drop off your cap and gown before walking to the local pub together. It was bustling with students, alumni and lecturers lit by dingy candle light in each room giving it a guise of dark academia you quite liked. The two of you squeezed through the dense crowd near the bar before getting to the front and ordering two bitters. You were paying- Tommy had spent almost all his money on the return ticket to London- you didn't mind. Looking around and being surrounded by reminders of your time at university made you even more anxious for the future. Had this all been worth it? Would you actually get a job from this? It was ridiculous that you chose this time to worry about these things but you almost couldn't help it.

"Come on, let's go outside." Tommy said, snapping you outside of your own thoughts.

You both spilled a fair amount of your respective pint on the floor and some graduates shoes before getting outside, it was insanely busy. As you stood outside together for the first time in a while it felt awkward. A silence fell between the two of you and neither of you quite knew how to break it. Even at 21 the two of you still hadn't figured out what you were to one another, what the occasional drunk kisses or the longing looks meant.

"What will you do now?" Tommy asked and your eyes shot up from the floor to look at his.

"Get a job in banking or something I suppose. Really anything that will pay well and I'll succeed in." You took a sip of your pint which you couldn't say was your favourite drink you'd had recently.

"In London?" Tommy asked in a higher pitch than usual.

"Perhaps. I haven't decided if I want to go home yet. I have money saved from the part time work I had so I could afford to live down here after successful interviews but there's jobs in Birmingham city center. So I'm not sure." The coldness of the glass was particularly apparent at that very moment.

"Ah." Was all Thomas replied.

The two of you finished your drinks with intermittent conversations and smoking to break the awkwardness before heading to the train station to get your overnight. You were ridiculously happy it was an overnight so the lights were dimmed and you couldn't pretend you were asleep. You couldn't help but well up slightly, Tommy had never been good at hiding his emotions and you could tell how disappointed he was. All you had ever wanted was to be with him, but after you left for London three years ago nothing happened. Regardless of the kiss and the sex, nothing changed. And that made you angry, especially that now he could be so visibly upset that you would want to focus on your career when he made no attempt to solidify a relationship between the two of you.

The following day you woke up in the room you shared with Ada when you'd come home from university, after your parents practically disowned you. The sun shone a thin beam of light through the gap in the curtains, highlighting all the bits of dust kicked up when you got out of the bed. Ada was still snoring so you went downstairs and made a pot of tea. You sat down at the dining table and opened the newspaper from yesterday still sitting mostly untouched. Aside from the sports section, the Shelby boys rarely looked at the paper aside from Tommy. But his treatment of the pages was so immaculate you'd never know he'd even opened it.

"Morning." Tommy said walking into the kitchen and you involuntarily jumped, surprised that he was even speaking to you.

"Good morning." You returned and took a sip of your weak tea. "There's a pot of tea on the side if you want any." You told him without looking up and he grunted in response before pouring himself a cup and sitting adjacent to you.

"Have you looked in on Finn yet?" He asked in a matter of fact tone you couldn't stand.

"Not yet." You replied just as curtly, this situation would not be resolved by you saying sorry since you absolutely did not owe him an apology.

"I'll see if he wants any food." And with that Thomas was up and gone again, albeit for good reason but still, you expected some kind of communication from him.

When you were away at university the Shelby's had started an under the table bookkeeping business venture. After you left university you'd begun helping with the finances and organising every bet with corresponding funds etc. They were mostly just lucky when a large group of people made a terrible bet with awful odds to try and win big, but it hardly happened. So most of the finances were self-explanatory but either way you decided to take up some of your time looking over them.

You pushed back the curtain and opened the double doors, smelling the familiar scent of staleness and cigarette smoke. It was, in a strange way, extremely comforting and familiar. The Shelby house usually smelt of some kind of smoke whether it was from the coal fire or cigarettes but, regardless it was homely. The smell only reminded you of a situation that had happened two years prior when you were working for the Shelby's in the summer.

Walking into the sparsely covered room you saw someone drooping over a table, seemingly asleep. It was early so you weren't expecting any customers let alone someone who had possibly broken in.

"Hello?" You called out cautiously. Walking towards the stairs you saw the door was open. "We're not open yet," you called out again standing closer to the figure, a mass of tangled dark brown hair crowning their sleeping form. You picked up a pencil from one of the tables and gingerly poked the figure on what you thought was their arm. They suddenly woke up in a start making a strangled type of scream sound which surprised you, causing you to scream in turn.

"What happened!" Tommy exclaimed, running through the doors holding Finn in his arms. As the figure sat up you saw it was Polly.

"Pol?" You paused and sat across from her. "What are you doing here?" Tommy put Finn in Pol's arms and she had him sit on her knee, clutching him close. She began crying without explanation, Finn was fidgeting with a tassel on the edge of her coat.

"What's happened?" Tommy asked in a softer voice than you expected and Polly tried to compose herself but she was an absolute mess.

"They-they took them a-away." She stuttered through tears.

"Who took who away?" You asked, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

"The kids. They're gone." Polly held Finn closer and he didn't seem to mind, babbling to himself happily despite Pol's agony.

"Did someone snatch them?" Tommy asked in a voice of panic and Pol laughed.

"No. That bitch who lives in the house that's behind mine reported me to the police because she thought I'd stolen something and the parish took them away from me." Polly dried her eyes.

"What can we do?" You asked slowly, having no idea if anything could be done.

"We could appeal but they wouldn't touch g**sies with a ten foot pole. They need one excuse to take away our children and they took this one without a thought." Polly despaired and you couldn't help but think of how Finn was almost as old as Anna.

"We can try." Tommy sounded almost motivated.

"I can feel it. She's so far away I can feel the cord between the two of us snapping. She's never coming back and Michael… I can't find Michael in my meditation. They've both gone from me, they've been taken and they're never coming back." Was all Polly said.

That day had haunted you for years, unable to help a woman who had done so much for you in her one moment of despair. From that day on you had written to Polly at least twice a month and made sure Thomas was helping her heal by developing a motherly bond with Finn. It was the little you could do, but it couldn't fix what hurt there already was. Since you'd been back in Small Heath you hadn't seen that compassion from Tommy. He was jealous of your prospects or just too infantile to express that he was upset. Either way you didn't know this version of Tommy you'd come home too.

"The books are fine. I checked over them before I came to London." Tommy suddenly said as you walked over to the safe and it made you jump again.

"Tommy can we-" you started but he had already walked away.

Over the next few days you looked after Finn, had tea with Polly, taught Ada more advanced mathematics and tried to talk to Tommy. Only one of those activities was a complete failure. It was as if he had decided you were no longer part of his life and it was insanely hard to accept that eventuality when you simply didn't believe it could be true. Tommy was your person, romantic or not it didn't matter. You adored one another and the thought of him not always being in the sphere of your life was something you were not ready to accept.

"You are going to fucking talk to me." You said storming into Tommy's room and closing the door behind you, leaning against it so he couldn't leave.

"What is there to say?" Tommy asked, he genuinely didn't seem to care.

"Why the fuck are you being so childish and refusing to talk to me? Why are you shutting me out and honestly acting like a child whose mother has told them off? You're ignoring me and devaluing our bond." You yelled, Tommy wasn't too far away from you but he refused to raise his eyes from your shoes. It made you uncomfortable and you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"I don't want to talk about this." He said so quietly you almost didn't hear him and you scoffed.

"Well that's fucking convenient, Tommy. But we are talking about it. I will not leave this room without you talking about it." You stood your ground and balled some of your dress into your right hand.

The noise of John and Ada arguing downstairs was the only thing calming you down. Tommy mumbled something that you couldn't quite make out and you took a step closer to him. He pushed his fingers through his hair and still didn't look up.

"Say that again?" You said in a more encouraging tone, there was a long and heavily pregnant silence before Tommy finally spoke.

"I don't want you to leave." He said very calmly and you felt your stomach drop at that moment.

Could this be when he finally fucking admitted he wasn't happy with leaving things how they were? You never had been but this status quo had begun as soon as you started university, whilst your first few letters back home to him began with words of affection and adoration. Whilst the letters he wrote were more factual or friendly. He often updated you about the family which you loved but there was no feeling, no care behind the words. After a while you had followed suit.

You walked closer to Tommy at a quicker pace and wrapped your arms around him. The closest hug you had ever given him you were convinced he might throw up because of it. The two of you cling to one another in silence. Listening to the sound of your clothes rustling against one another when you moved slightly and the slight sound when you shuffled closer to him.

"I think I love you." You said into his shoulder and it sounded like Tommy half choked- half sobbed into your shoulder. It wasn't something that should have made you laugh but nevertheless it did. "Are you okay?" You asked cautiously with a slight giggle and he kneed you.

"You bastard." Tommy replied in a muffled voice. "I love you too."

next part

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ryanguzmansource · 3 months

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youtube

📹 • Ryan's podcast appearance for A-Line Podcast (3.11.24)

SUMMARY (IN ORDER OF DISCUSSION)

ON BEING A "SEX SYMBOL": I don't see none of that […] I stay appreciative, I stay grateful for all of it. That's crazy though because I don't see myself like that, you know? [interviewer makes a comment on his level of humility] I've had a lot of humbling things happen to me that past, like, my whole life. Some people, like—I got good people in my corner right now checking me.

ON ACTING: [interviewer asks how long he's been in the profession] Thirteen years now? And it's never something I even thought of, coming from Sac [Sacramento]. Yeah, I was—I was doing, like, modelling in San Fran[cisco], I was doing fighting in Sacramento, and then I think just the environment I was around wasn't offering me any kind of, like, out, and I got caught up, and I was just like "You know what, I'ma do the same shit, I'm gonna get in trouble, I'm gonna end up like all these other individuals I'm around, let me try something new." So I got invited to come out to LA [Los Angeles] and do a photoshoot and that changed my life.

I was modelling and fighting at the same time, and then—because—I just came off one of my last fights [interviewer asks if he won] Nah, I lost. It was a-a belt fight too for the title. [interviewer asks if he was contender or champion] I was the contender. Yeah, I was going against the champ. Yeah, and I was only on my third fight at the time, so I was like, I was coming up real quick and I picked up that fight to be honest because somebody else turned it down and nobody else wanted to fight this guy so they looked at me and I was like, sign me up. Yeah, yeah, but then I came out here and everything changed. I remember getting a call from some, I don't even know the guy no more, but uh, he was talking about some, like, audition or something like that and I'm like, what do you mean, audition? and he goes oh yeah yeah I act, and I'm like "oh, okay, bro, if you can do it you're [indistinguishable] as fuck." [laughter] I gotta try this shit out for sure." And ever since then, man, I booked Step Up and I haven't been—[interviewer asks which movies he was in] Four and five. Yeah, four and five.

ON 9-1-1: [interviewer asks how long it takes for him to learn his lines and what his process is when he receives a new script] 9-1-1, they keep you on your toes because like, literally, we'll get the script the day of or, like, the night before and you don't even know you're working that night so it's just—now, at this point in time, I've been doing it for so long, it's just like—what I do, what helps me out is I read the lines over and over and over and over again until I got the lines on lock, right—[interviewer asks if he writes his lines in order to memorize them] No, I-I used to. So when I—when I came out here and I only had, like, twenty-seven dollars to my name, I could barely afford paper, so I would just take, like, a couple pieces of paper and keep on writing shit over and over again until I got that and then I think it developed something in my brain so that now that I'm looking at this stuff, I'll get the lines down real quick and then, as soon as I get the lines down, I put myself into it. And that's where you get to, like, the flavor, the character, like, all the like, little textures and stuff. Yeah.

ON THE ON-SET ENVIRONMENT: It really is like a little family, you know, we really kick it on-on, uh, and off screen and everything.

ON IF HE STILL GETS NERVOUS WHEN ACTING: I'd take a fight over [walking on set]. I think for me, in anything I've ever done—the more, like, tense I am, the worse I am. You know what I'm saying? So, like, I'm trying my best to just be comfortable and just be me and it's been a process to try and find out who that was at the same time as being an actor. So as I've climbed over the past thirteen years, I've kind of found out my identity, who I am, and feel real stable in who I am, so when I come on a set, it's the same person you'll meet all the time. And then when I'm—when they—when they call action, it's just a flip of the switch to be honest. It's really not like—I can't—I can't think about it too much.

ON METHOD ACTING: [interviewer asks what's the difference between what he does and method acting] Nah, but I did a movie—I did method for, like, so again, I've only done one acting class in my entire life, so I was trying to just learn on the go. I didn't even call myself an actor until, like, three years ago until I had a conversation with Kenny [Kenneth Choi] and Kenny was like, "bro, you got all the things, like, why are you not taking advantage of what you have?" But, uh, I did a Mario Van Peebles movie [Armed (2018)] and I was supposed to play the like, schizo, kind of like, like, crazy individual, all paranoid and everything like that. So I locked myself up in this, like, horrible ass motel, like, you know, prostitution was happening over here, like, we got—we got everything, you know, and I kept myself in that room, and then to further that thing, I hired one of my boys to, uh, be snapping pics of me randomly so, like, it always keep me, like, is somebody looking on me, blah blah blah.

And I couldn't get out the room, the room was hot as fuck, I think it was, like, 110 degrees in that room, um, it was in the middle of the fucking summer, and I just drove myself insane. I drove myself insane and I did this movie. I mean, it didn't come nothing of it but it became the Mario van Peebles show. I didn't realize that going into it but, um, that stuck with me for years. It fucked with me. So I would go around and I remember coming out of that room, actually—it was weird, I came out the room, my two boys took me out to lunch, and I'm-I'm-I'm trying to eat and all I could do was hear everybody's voices and it was so overwhelming I almost started crying, I'm like, oh whoa. So I had to, like, hop in the bathroom, I'm like, and seclude myself so I couldn't hear nobody. And then I finally, like, started to reintegrate myself into the community and then - and then I just went straight to filming. But I learned from that process, like, nah, method ain't for me.

ON HAVING A LIFE OUTSIDE OF ACTING: [interviewer asks how he's able to have a life outside of acting considering both the unpredictability and the rigor inherent to his line of work.] Yeah, you just got to be adaptable. ON GETTING HIRED: [interviewer asks if he sent in an audition tape for 9-1-1] Nah, bro, so it worked out differently for me, I got a straight offer based off an audition I did two months or three months prior. [interviewer asks if they kept his tape] I think so. Yeah, so, what happened was—[interviewer asks what the tape/audition was for] No, it was FOX, something completely different. Yeah, and I don't know, I don't know really the backstory 'cause, to be honest, I-I met up with Tim Minear, and shout out to Tim Minear, he's-he's like the OG of the OGs. Yeah, yeah, shoutout to showrunner, yeah, yeah, yeah, he-he does everything, he put, like, new life into this season for us.

But, um, I only met Ryan Murphy one time, and the only time I met him, actually, I was trying to go to Netflix trying to get my show picked up. I was writing something for, uh, with a-a-a group of people, and I was like "alright, I got this all set up" blah blah blah, you know, and that—there's a certain amount of slots that Netflix will see the people, so I'm sitting down there waiting, everything like that, and I see fourteen individuals come through, Ryan Murphy's leading them, like, I don't know who this man is. And finally someone comes up to me and says, hey, so, Ryan this-this guy actually works for you, and he's like, oh hey nice to meet you, blah blah blah and, like, dips out, and I'm like, fuck I'm not going to get this television show, like they're going to sign with this man" and shortly after, they signed this, like, massive deal and—yeah.

ON WORKING WITH ANGELA BASSETT: "She's probably one of my favorite people I've ever met. [...] It's royalty right there, yeah, it's royalty. The fact that she can go win an Oscar, come back to our show and act like nothing happened? Like, that's who she is.

ON EDDIE'S S3 FIGHT ARC: [interviewer asks if he asked for his background in fighting to be included in 9-1-1] I got a theory about that though, like, I feel like they found out about my fighting and then I kept on coming in with, like, black eyes and like, like, different, like, little, like, you know, yeah, we-we, like, the makeup artist would call it, like, oh, falling down the stairs or what not, so, he's like, "did you fall down the stairs again today?" blah blah blah so I think they just kind of, like, wrote that in. […] I thought I was going to get fired.

ON FIGHTING: Still fighting. Still trying to teach, still doing it, like, anybody wants, you know. [interviewer asks if he's still going into the ring getting punched] I mean... I'm trying to punch [laughter]

ON THE STRIKE: [interviewer asks how badly the SAG-AFTRA strikes affected him] I'm in a blessed position, you know, I stay grateful for everything and then, like I said, Ryan Murphy saved my life, uh, because I just found out—not to back out of your question—but I just found out that I was about to have a baby boy, um, before I got this-this show and, like, divine intervention, right, um, so for the strike, residuals started coming through out of nowhere. That USA [USA Network syndicated runs of 9-1-1]. So I was actually just linking up with my boys every single morning at four or five in the morning. [interviewer asks if his residuals were mere coins like some of the rest of the people in his industry] Nah, man, you get some. Like one I, like, get super hyped, right, and I be like okay, a dollar. […] So I was getting that, but then I was also getting something else and I was just like okay. Every check [from 9-1-1] [is] the same, the residuals are different. So residuals are, like, based on how-how many people watch. I'll get a residual from, like, say Boy Next Door comes out and it, I think it was just on HBO, you know, ten thousand people, hundred thousand people will start watching that, then I'll get a residual for that, and then I'll get a residual for 9-1-1.

ON THE ON-SET ENVIRONMENT (again): [int: And I'ma speak, like, being on set with y'all, man, like, um, I hear so many horror stories of, like "the actor was an asshole," like all of y'all bro, like, when you see me, you be like "how's your kid?" and that shit is crazy bro, I be appreciating that shit, like, y'all really—it's really like a family setting, not just with the actors with—among actors—it's like crew-wise, like, even—I saw Aisha [Hinds] on another show, she hugging me and shit, everybody looking at me different now. You know what I'm saying? So, like, y'all really show love on, like, a daily basis, you know what I'm saying.]

It starts from the top, though. I mean, Angela, you know, she-she runs that whole thing. [...] Pete's the same way, yeah. […] She's straight-up grace. The way she handled that other Oscar situation when she was supposed to, like, win? And she sat down like this [demonstrates]. [And they tried to make it seem like she was shading the winner.] Of course they did. Of course they did. I remember talking to her about that. [And how was she feeling?] You know, she had some, like, some things to share about that, and, like, to be honest, it's human. It's like, what she felt was human, it's like—and the way she handled it was better than I could have handled it. You know? And the way that she was getting treated? Better than how I could have felt. You know? So, like I said: grace.

ON JAKE PAUL/FIGHTING: [parts of this exchange were indistinguishable due to an inability to read lips] I put out my thing for Jake Paul, like, years and years ago. I was like, Jake, if you wanna fight, let's fight, bro. […] I didn't get nothing back, I got crickets back, so he literally, yeah. [interviewer comments of Jake Paul's skill and ability.] He's gotten better. I mean, he's got millions of dollars like he's in Puerto Rico, like, top training, like, he's got a good team around him. [interviewer asks if he's still willing to fight Jake Paul knowing he's received top-notch training] Tomorrow. Yeah. Today. Whenever. Yeah. We about the same weight. I think he's 199, I'm 187.

[indistinguishable] That don't mean nothing, that's Mike Tyson. And you gotta think about the last couple fights, is like, Mike Tyson, he's had Anderson Silva, I'm a nobody to him, and I don't have the controversy behind me. You know? There's a scandal that-that, like, they feed off of. They're smart, I said this: the Paul brothers are really smart about advertising themselves, marketing themselves, like, and-and surrounding like, insulating themselves with really good people. [indistinguishable] I feel like they had something in the clause, like, don't hit me too hard. You see the age gap right? I mean, 57? The other one, Anderson Silva was 50, the one before that was 40, like, he-he's—I feel like he's going to the retirement home—[he lost to Tommy Fury] He lost to—because that's close to his age. And I don't even think Tommy Fury is that great.

[interviewer asks if, when he's in the ring, does he use moments where he's not in action to rest] Yeah. Yeah, so actually, you learn a lot from the fight. So, like, sparring is completely different than fighting in the ring. […] The first fight I ever had, I realized that the crowd actually plays—cause, the adrenaline—it takes out your-your stamina, so I would get in there and I would already be breathing hard and not realizing, like, I haven't even fought yet. So by the second round in my first fight, I remember my coach, like, pulling my pants, being like, trying to get me, like, room for my stomach to breath, and slapping me in the face, being like, wake up, you got to fight another round. Just because my heart was beating too hard. The next round—I mean, sorry to stop you—but the next fight, I ended up deciding I'm going to fall asleep right before my fight. I'm going to stay calm as I can, I'm going to walk out to my own little, like, headphone music, blah blah blah, I'ma go to the ring girl, flirt with her for a little bit, blah blah, go in there and just treat it like another day, stay comfortable, stay calm, like I'm doing with my acting, and then I fucked this dude up, man, I was like that's it.

[interviewer asks if he believes in not having sex before a fight] Ah, I mean… [laughter] I mean, I-I, they-they say a lot that does act as, like, testosterone. [interviewer asks if he believe that it can help before heading into a fight, regardless if he practices the ideology or not] Yeah. Yeah, 'cause, I mean, if you withhold sex for all of--I mean--you just start getting, like, little-- [Antsy?] Yeah, exactly.

ON GARCIA V. HANEY: [Devin] Haney's gonna—Haney's gonna whip him. Yeah. No, [Ryan] Garcia's got so many holes in his game. He should have stayed-he should have stayed with Canelo [Alvarez].

ON BOXING OVER MMA: I moreso watch MMA 'cause that's where I came from […] I like-I like using everything. [interviewer asks about his fight style] Striker. I didn't like getting—that's how I lost in the last fight. I hit old dude, like, right in the face, his eyes roll in the back, I celebrated too quick, I raise my hands up, he kind of falls on me, grabs on my side, and as he's, like, grabbing on my side, he's trying to get his, like, whereabout, right, and then kind of pulls me into a guard, we fall down, he goes into my, like, it's called side mount, so he's on this side, my legs are this way and he gets onto a full mount, which is just like—my legs are past him, his legs are right here, and he just starts doing [gestures] that 'cause I didn't have any ground game (?). And I heard about this guy being nothing but a striker so I was like alright, so I went up to him and I was just like, let's get it cracking, like, this is the fucking, like, belt, somebody's going to get knocked out. Somebody's going to get knocked out, right, let's do this, and it turned into something else.

[interviewer asks what's the worst shot he's taken]

So, by my trainer, 260 pounds, King of the Cage champion—like, five, six time champion—and he has an iron rod or, like, a metal rod in his shin […] So I got, like, a [works his jaw]—my shit still clicks [He came up and kicked you?] So we do this thing called a Shark Tank, right, so, like every person, like, ten people hop out around the cage and one person's in the cage, and whoever's in the cage is getting ready for their fight and every minute, or every two minutes, we switch out the fighter. So you get a fresh fighter every single time, and it doesn't matter how big or small [...] So I, it was my turn, and I'm faster than him, so I was bam bam bam—I was a fresh fighter, I was third round, so like—or second round—so we're going back and forth, boom boom boom, I'm hitting him, and he just, like, set up one shot, and as soon as he threw that leg, I—slow motion—saw bop! And I've never been hit this hard in my life, I—he hit me so hard, like, I hit the ground and popped back up. I bounced off the ground, and I thought I was still, like, alright, let's go, and I started throwing shots, and my head's just ringing, I don't know where I'm at, I don't really remember the time. I've never been knocked out, but that was the closest I've ever been knocked out, and then my jaw for the next month and a half, I had to, like, eat soup.

ON WHY HE FELT LIKE HE WON HIS LAST FIGHT: I hit him with a cross, his eyes were rolling back, so I thought okay, that's it, I did it, and he starts, like, slumping up, right, and as soon as he started slumping, I turned, and again, immaturity, so I felt like I got this, it was in the bag, everybody, like, got out of their seats, started yelling and blah blah blah, and and and I thought it was over.

ON IF HE'S FOCUSING MORE ON ACTING OR FIGHTING: Yeah, I always saw myself as a fighter more than anything else […] My dream was to get on UFC Ultimate Fighter and hopefully get on the UFC.

ON IF HE KNOWS NATE DIAZ: Yeah, so, I mean, everybody know everybody, right, especially in NorCal, so, and, we're fighting, we go to these different leagues and whatnot, and everybody—it's kind of like a little clique, little gang, blah blah blah, you stay with your gang. And there's quite a few times where ours and theirs got in a little… [gestures] And just off of, like, some dumb shit, like it's—it doesn't take much. And for a while, I kind of held a grudge until I came out here, and then finally, like, I don't know, I just dropped this shit and then Nate reached out, or, like, Nick sent me something like a comment in my Instagram, I—yeah. But. It's all love.

ON HOW OFTEN HE TRAINS/GOES TO THE GYM: [conversation drifted almost immediately but, essentially, he works fourteen to fifteen hour days and presumably finds it difficult to go to the gym, but his kids often accompany and train with him when he goes]

ON RAPPERS: [indistinguishable due to noise, but he prefers Kendrick Lamar and Lil Wayne over Drake]

ON WOMEN: [interviewer talks about a specific instance in which a man loans approx. 20k to his girlfriend to cover her expenses, yet when he needs money for their mortgage, she says no. He then asks if Ryan is able to overlook that, were he in the same situation] Nah. She gotta go.

[interviewer suggesting that saying a woman "can't get a man" or calling her a ho is the same as telling a man to "shut yo' broke ass up] But women make a lot of money off of that now. Like on OnlyFans and everything, women make hella money, I don't know if they even care anymore.

[interviewer on if women "really" want to work or not, or if they'd rather just be taken care of by men or be homemakers]: I say give them everything they want and then let them find out. Let them find out they don't want what they want.

interview ends because he has to leave.

#📹#🚒#🥊#3.11.24 #ryan guzman #march 2024 #with friends #Youtube

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