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navybrat817 · 7 months

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Within You

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze. Word Count: Over 3.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public, breeding kink, spooky vibes, established relationship, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Welcome to Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @ghotifishreads who suggested soft!dark Bucky with a breeding kink and @tumblin-theworldaway for listening to me (s)cream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @vonalyn , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your first Autumn with Bucky. The two of you had been dating for less than a year, but you were completely enamored with him. Not only was he doting and smart, but he was a man who made your heart flutter in your chest whenever he looked your way. Even thinking about him sets your heart ablaze. He was the one for you.

“Come on,” you smiled as you took his hand and pulled him toward the pumpkin patch entrance.

The two of you took turns regarding date nights and outings. Today, you chose a pumpkin patch. You told him it wouldn’t feel like Fall if you didn’t go and listed off the fun things to do. There was a hayride, pumpkins and apples to pick, a corn maze, and much more. He obliged since he knew it would make you happy. He even gave you a small smile when you told him the website claimed that the maze was tricky, but you knew he’d find his way out easily.

You stopped and inhaled the cool air, the scent of warm apple cider drifting your way from the stand nearby. The temperature dropped just enough that you were comfortable in a sweater and the sun peeked out through the clouds to greet you. It wasn't overly crowded and it was the perfect weather. Even better because you had the perfect man by your side.

It was going to be a good day.

“Where should we start?” You asked, smiling when a small group of kids headed toward one of the tractors. “Hayride? Pick a pumpkin to carve later?”

“Where do you want to start?” Bucky replied, a small breeze blowing some of his dark brown hair back.

Your answer died in your throat as you gazed at him. His hair was the third thing you noticed about him, long enough that it almost touched his shoulders and soft to the touch. You loved running your fingers through it, whether it was to soothe him and pull it when he was between your thighs. The second thing you took notice of was the massive size of your now boyfriend. Over 6’4” with broad shoulders, a puffed out chest, and thighs made for riding, he intimated most while he excited you.

His cool blue eyes, of course, were the first thing. Gazing into them was like swimming in a private sea, ready to ride a gentle wave or get swept away in a storm depending on his mood. You could handle the entire range of emotions because you were his girl. It was that simple.

“You’re staring, doll,” he smiled, your cheeks warm at being caught. If any other guy called you "doll", it would've sounded silly. It was endearing coming from him.

“Well, I can't help it. You’re gorgeous,” you said.

“You are gorgeous,” he argued, the compliment sending more heat to your cheeks.

“You said that this morning,” you teased. The two of you moved in together recently and you had a hard time getting out of bed some days. Waking up beside him was like a dream, but it was your reality.

“And I'll say it again,” he smiled before a girl stopped in front of the two of you with a tray.

“Hi,” she greeted with an ear-to-ear smile. “Would either of you care for a sample of cider? We have warm and chilled.”

“Ooh,” you smiled, glancing between the cups. You loved apple cider. “I'll take warm, please.”

“Same. Thanks,” Bucky said, selecting cups for each of you. He blew on his before he drank it, a weird look crossing his face as he swallowed. “Is something on the bottom of my cup?”

“Nothing on mine,” you said, glancing at his cup once you tried your cider. “I think it's a sticker. Is it a cauldron?”

“Oh! You got the lucky, special sample!” the girl grinned as you and Bucky shared a confused look. She balanced the tray in one hand as she handed your boyfriend an orange coupon and took the empty cups from you. “Free cider for two. Enjoy!”

“Thanks,” Bucky said before she went to give samples to others.

“Lucky guy,” you smiled, raising an eyebrow as he slowly licked his lips. “You okay?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yeah. Was just warmer than I expected.”

“You didn't burn your tongue, did you?”

“No, but you should massage your tongue with mine anyway,” he half joked.

You smiled and nodded toward the maze. “Why don’t we check that out first?”

“So, you’d rather check out a maze instead of soothing your boyfriend's tongue?”

You giggled as you made your way to the start, grabbing a small sheet of paper. There were different sets of “animal tracks” to find throughout the maze. Anyone who found them all got a prize. “Why check out a maze when I can check you out?” You asked, unable to keep a straight face. “That was cheesy.”

“It wasn’t cheesy,” he said before his smile widened. “It was corny.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed more. One thing about your boyfriend, he could always bring a smile to your face. “You think you’re so…”

A little boy ran out of the maze with a smile before he lost his footing and pitched forward, his sheet of paper floating to the ground as it flew from his hand. You rushed over to help when he began to cry, carefully helping the poor child sit up. “Ouch,” he sniffled.

“Hey. You okay?” you gently asked, making sure to keep your demeanor calm as you brushed some of the dirt away. You also grabbed his sheet before it could blow away. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

He wiped his face and pointed to his knee once he rolled up his pant leg. “Right here.”

“Okay. Let’s take a look,” you nodded as Bucky joined you, crouching down on the other side of the boy. He looked worried, too. Minus the small scrape, he looked fine overall. “Poor little guy. Scrapes are no fun. But you know what? You’re a strong little boy.”

“I am?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah. Very strong,” Bucky agreed. "My girl wouldn't lie to you."

It was sweet how he spoke of you. “And you found all the animals, so you get a prize,” you smiled, showing him his paper where all of them were shaded. “You’re strong and smart,” you added, which brought a smile to his face, too.

“Timmy!” a woman shouted as she jogged out to the maze. “I told you not to run off. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, taking your hand so you could get him to his feet. “Hurts, but I’m strong and smart.”

Timmy’s mom bent down to inspect his knee herself before she gave you a relieved smile. “Thank you for helping him. How can I repay you?”

“That's not necessary. We're glad we could help,” you said, making sure he had his sheet. “You enjoy your prize and listen to your mom, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, waving as he went with his mom. “Thanks!”

“Cute little guy,” you smiled as Bucky slowly stood up. Your boyfriend had a few expressions that you were used to seeing, but you couldn’t read the current look he gave you. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. “What?”

“Why haven't I knocked you up yet?"

You opened your mouth to say something, a feverish and unexpected heat moving through your body. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard what I said,” he said, his piercing gaze rooting you to the spot. “Just wondering why I haven't."

Though you knew Bucky was the man for you, the topic of kids hadn’t come up much. Partially because you hadn’t been together a year yet. Wouldn’t it be too soon to have a little one running around when you weren’t even engaged? Not that the two of you had to get married to have kids.

Maybe him seeing me comfort Timmy brought it to the front of his mind.

“I don’t know, Bucky. Why haven’t you knocked me up yet?” you teased. You almost shrank under his gaze a moment later when he didn’t laugh or crack a smile.

“Maybe I should. We can go home and get started right now,” he said. There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “This would be a fun place to bring our kids one day. Don't you think?"

“Why don’t we talk about it after the maze?”

He looked hurt for a split second and you almost assured you weren’t blowing him off. You wouldn't do that. It was merely a serious talk for another time. “Sure. After the maze,” he agreed, taking your hand as you made your way back over.

A chill ran down your spine when you walked through the entrance. It was strange. You weren’t afraid, especially since it wasn’t dark outside. So where did the unexpected chill come from?

“You okay?” Bucky asked, his voice a little rougher than usual as his grip tightened on your hand. Did he feel weird being in here, too? “I didn't freak you out, did I?”

“I'm fine and you didn't freak me out. You know you can tell me anything,” you replied, shaking it off the chill as the two of you began to walk through. The maze took up almost a third of the entire place, the stalks high enough that neither of you could see over them. “I think we should find the werewolf tracks first. Because they're one of your favorite animals.”

Before you could turn right down one of the paths, he brought his mouth close to your face. “That and I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth in and leaving my mark on you.”

The breath rushed out of your lungs when you turned your head and caught the darkness in his eyes. His pupils were larger than normal as he stepped closer, almost backing you into the corn. “Is that right?”

“And you’ll let me,” he said, your heart racing as he leaned in. His kisses stole the breath from your lungs and your eyes slipped shut just before his lips touched yours. “Won’t you?”

“After we find the first set of tracks,” you whispered, pressing your hands to his chest so he’d back away.

He didn’t budge.

“Seriously, doll. Why haven’t I knocked you up yet?”

This again?

“I thought we were going to talk about that after we got out of here,” you reminded him, stepping to the side to go further down the path. “Where is this coming from anyway?”

“Been thinking about it for some time. I just haven’t said so,” he answered as he followed close behind. Was he afraid to say something before because it was too soon? That admitting it would scare you off? “Now that I'm talking about it, I can't stop.”

You were tempted to make a joke that there was something in his special cider sample making him talk. “You're serious about this?”

“You moved in with me. We love each other. I want a life with you. Of course, I'm serious.”

Glancing over your shoulder to find him watching you, you couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too, Bucky,” you promised before you focused on the path again. You weren’t sure just how far the two of you had walked through. “But something like that is-”

You shrieked when Bucky spun you around by the shoulder, a wild look in his eyes before his mouth met yours in a persistent kiss. Compelling desire moved through you, but it didn’t matter how much you wanted him. The two of you were still in public. There were families around.

This wasn’t the time or place for this.

He broke the kiss before he shoved you almost painfully to your knees. He was never that forceful. “I’ll lose my mind if I’m not inside you.”

“Bucky, what the hell?!” you asked as he moved behind you and dropped to his knees, too. He yanked your pants and underwear down before you could stop him. Did you want to stop him? “We’re in a maze. What if someone catches us?”

He scoffed as he pushed you forward, forcing you to brace yourself with your hands. The cool breeze touched your exposed pussy, sending another chill down your spine. “You think I care if anyone catches us? I need you and they can’t stop me. They'll see that you're mine.”

The corn seemed to move in closer as you heard him unbuckle his belt, as if to give you some privacy. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you. “I'm already yours. Can you just slow down for a second?”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he swore, clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Bucky sheathed you in one hard thrust, your cry smothered by his hand. You admitted to him once that he was the largest you’d ever had, which he both loved and hated. While it made him feel good that your ex-boyfriends weren’t as big as him, could never stretch you the way he could, he hated thinking of anyone else being inside you. He liked to remind you that no one else ever would be. And because of his size, he usually took great care in prepping you.

His need must’ve clouded him, the burn from the stretch more intense than usual.

“I’m sorry, doll. I don't know what's come over me. I can’t help myself,” he apologized again as if he sensed your discomfort, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice as you breathed through your nose. “But it’s okay. I’ll make you feel good. Just take me.”

You whined as he nearly pulled out completely and shoved himself back in as deep as he could go. That was your only warning before he set a steady pace, your hands fisting the dirt and your ears ringing as blood surged through your veins. It wasn’t long before your wetness coated his cock, the burn fading to pleasure from the friction. He fucked you before, but it was nothing like this. Bucky was like a man possessed. No, not even a man. More like a wild animal rutting into you, claiming you.

Where anyone could stumble along and find you.

“So soft. So warm,” he groaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck. “So fucking good.”

You tried to push yourself higher on your hands and knees for better support, but the force of his thrusts surged you forward. Removing his hand from your mouth, he placed it on the back of your neck as your cheek hit the dirt. The hold gave him leverage to fuck you deeper with your ass in the air. The soil felt cool in contrast to the hot palm against your skin.

“Better keep quiet,” he warned you, even as the angle sparked ecstasy within you. All you could do was bite your lip to try and keep the sounds in as much as possible. “Or do you want someone to catch me breeding you?”

“What?” you gasped, unable to lift your head as a new sensation hit you.

“You heard me,” he growled, draping himself over your back and maintaining his harsh pace as he breathed against your ear. “Gonna breed you. Gonna fucking drown your womb with my seed. ‘Cause you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

The sweet doting boyfriend you were used to was nowhere to be found as his cock wrecked your cunt. Was there something unexplainable causing him to act this way or had he been holding back? You would question him later. For now, you could only go limp as he fucked you into the dirt with vigor. And it felt good. You couldn't deny it.

“Gonna be so full of me. Fuck, you’ll look so beautiful carrying my baby,” he grunted, barely able to make out his words his thrusts increased in speed and strength. The slap of skin on skin filled the air and you almost had to cover your mouth yourself to stop your mewls. “Your belly round. Your tits nice and full. Might keep you knocked up so you remember who you belong to.”

The image of Bucky with his hand on your belly filled your mind, sending jolts of unexpected pleasure down to your toes. “I can’t take it, Bucky,” you gasped, even as you felt the tug of your building climax ready to snap. “It’s too much.”

With a deceptively soft kiss to your neck, followed by a small nuzzle, Bucky let out a deep moan. “You can take it. You always do ‘cause you’re mine. My good girl,” he rambled on as you whined, the wet slide of your pussy squeezing him tighter as you got closer. “Need to pump you full. Need your cunt to milk every drop from me. You want it. I know it. Come.”

You couldn’t hold on any longer, your fingers curling in the dirt again as you came with a cry. You were overwhelmed by the pure bliss, shocked at just how powerful your orgasm was. He hadn’t teased your clit, yet you gushed around him like he had. The squelching sound blended in with your whimpers as he fucked you through it.

Maybe you liked the idea of him breeding you more than you realized.

“That’s it, doll,” he groaned as he chased his release. “Take it. Every. Fucking. Drop.”

Bucky's rhythm faltered as his cock pulsed, spilling inside you with a growl. He kept his hips flush against yours as he breathed raggedly against your neck, keeping your bodies joined together for as long as he could. He didn’t move until he began to soften, making a whimper spill from your lips when he pulled out of you. His fingers quickly replaced his cock to keep his spend from sliding out of you.

“You okay, doll?” he asked, his voice still a touch of gruff mixed with softness. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“Mmm,” was the only response you could give him.

It was like a switch had gone off as he helped you up, keeping you from collapsing as he got your underwear and pants up. He wiped as much of the dirt away with his hands as he could, softness in his eyes once again. Minus his disheveled hair, he looked fine. Like he hadn't just fucked you in the corn maze.

You two were lucky you hadn't gotten caught.

He hugged you as close as he could while you tried to make sense of his behavior. Whatever raging beast was inside him was satisfied for the time being. But what came over him?

Large hands framed your face as you tried to get your shaking under control. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you mumbled.

“I’ll draw us a bath when we get home, okay? Get you cleaned up and make sure you aren't too sore,” he offered with a tender kiss to your lips. “After I throw out your birth control pills. You won’t need those anymore.”

So, how are we feeling? What do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 10 months

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when my hands were caked with dirt at the foot of the grave, you loved me still; ask atrocity of me and see how i tremble with willingness at the sound of your voice.

mt19 x reader: everyone loves to be taken care of.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, oral sex/fingering (m on f, another exception!), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), kind of oral fixation (have you seen the state of that mouthguard), hair-pulling (bring back the curls), lots of praise and tension and all that nonsense, lots of talk about alcohol, also a lot of emotions! (be warned about those damn emotions! this one has a similar vibe to my qh43 og snakes one, i think), idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(long a/n: my favorites - when i tell you i got carried away (again). but how could i not, when mt19 could not even play in the final cup game because he broke the bone that protects his heart? when poetry like that calls, you have to answer. the playoffs inspired me, mt19 inspired me, enough that i created this fictionalized mt19 character that is basically a bunch of insecurities personified. and the other character is just more of those in bartender form (i loved my bartending years! but they gave me a lot to think about!). so, sorry. this one’s a little sad, sometimes. but you guys seem to like the sad shit, so i hope you like this. apologies if i get caught up in the theatrics, at times. we haven’t done a takeaway in a while, so here’s one - you deserve to be chosen and loved and taken care of because you’re you, not just because you’re around. on a less serious note, can you tell how infatuated i am with mt19′s tooth gap? yeah, i know, i made it too obvious, i need to relax. i got a couple okays on the princess name, so if you don’t like it, you should have said something. am34 is up next, i’m thinking some classic older brother’s best friend, we’ll see if the muses are kind to me. please let me know what you think, i think i’ve made it obvious that your interaction means everything. also you guys literally should have seen me trying to figure out the physics of fucking against a barstool, it was legitimately ridiculous. gif is not mine. sending so so so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. see you soon. be your own first choice.

meeting new people simply came with the job of bartending. new faces filtered in and out of your bar like wisps of fragrant smoke, most of the time too fleeting to truly remember, never mind get to know.

however, the first day he entered your bar, a peculiar feeling hovered around you: the feeling that you already knew him, deeply and personally.

of course, you recognized him and his small group of teammates from the games that constantly played on the screens above the bar, but this was different. you couldn’t quite place the reason behind the feeling, not yet.

he didn’t approach the counter right away, but it was a saturday night, a busy one, so you were constantly being pulled from one patron to another, barely noticing the passage of time as your hands seemed to never stop moving.

but at some point, there he was, sitting at one of your stools, looking at you like he had all the time in the world, a confident, just bordering on arrogant smirk slanting across his face. you didn’t have the presence of mind or time to appreciate the rest of him, not right now.

but you were paid to treat all customers the same. and at the end of the day, that’s what he was, at least then. just another customer on a busy, hectic night.

“what can i get you?” you asked as you mixed a drink for the party at the other end of the counter. your voice was steady, knowing, friendly, but only just.

his smirk deepened as he leaned forward. “all business for the princess, hm?”

your brow furrowed in confusion before you realized where the name had come from. you absentmindedly adjusted the plastic tiara a birthday party had given you earlier that night - the group of girls around your age had gushed about how delicious their drinks were, how you had made their night, how you just had to have it, how it would look so pretty with your hair.

they were sweet, and they tipped well, so you didn’t push the birthday girl’s hands away when she slid the crown from her head and onto yours, even smiling a bit at the gesture. it was hard not to smile at women being girls again, and you loved the opportunity to be apart of it.

“princess is my side hustle,” you said to him now, keeping your tone even as you poured the colorful drink you were mixing into two glasses.

he made a face that you couldn’t decipher before leaning on one of his hands. “well, listen,” he started, to which you raised a brow. you didn’t like being told to listen - you just did, it was something you were good at, and being told to made you not want to anymore. he nodded to the group he came in with. “my friends over there bet that i couldn’t get your number. want to help me prove them wrong?”

you turned to drop off the drinks before running his words over in your mind. you were hit on all the time, another part of the job. people were attracted to being taken care of, and it was your job to take care of them, which always led to some misunderstandings, some one-sided crushes, some regulars that tipped much more than they needed to.

but something in your stomach dropped at his wording. you didn’t like it, not at all.

“did they?” you asked, actually focusing on his face for the first time that night as you ran a rag over the counter. his eyes were blue, so, so, blue, and almost comically confident, unwavering. as was his smirk, his full lips so perfectly placed and practiced, not quite like a natural habit but more like a learned one.

and then there was the brutal cut of his jawline, only made more prominent by his scruff of facial hair. the way his hair curled over the tops of his ears, a youthful but not juvenile look. his long lashes, elegant nose, flushed complexion, it was a little too perfect, at least for you, right now.

all of his features together appeared more like a masquerade ball mask, not a real, genuine face. it was off-putting, this actor in front of you, the one you had seen on television so many times.

he hummed in affirmation, smirked deeper.

you sighed. “that’s too bad,” you said, to which he gave you what looked like his first genuine expression of the night - one of confusion. “i only give my number to people who ask for it because they want it.”

you had long ago learned your lesson about being the person someone spent time with in order to please someone else. it never ended well.

his brow furrowed in further disbelief, complete lack of understanding, maybe a bit of shock, but you only tossed the rag aside and grabbed a glass. “now, how about a drink?”

he didn’t respond for a second, searching your face for something, maybe an explanation, less probably a spark of remorse. you let him. you weren’t going to budge on this, not tonight, not for him.

he shook out of it, literally, a small shake of his head before the mask was back on, in full strength. “yeah, sure. just an ipa, whatever you’ve got.” he addressed you by the name on your name tag, an act you normally hated, but didn’t mind so much now, in his deep tone.

you gave a small grin as you filled a tall glass. “thank god,” you started. “after the million mixed drinks i’ve had, you might just be my favorite customer.” you set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of him, only meaning to meet his eyes for a second.

once you did, though, you did a double take, now trapped in his gaze, completely transfixed on the pure hope you found there, so devastatingly poorly hidden. this, this was genuine, no mask to be found. the innocent hope lit up his eyes, his face from within, exposing an almost childlike expression that had you so deeply intrigued.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice no longer oozing with arrogance but instead with something you knew well. unbridled wanting. hope, hope, hope. he might as well have the word please scrawled all over his face in thick marker.

you felt your lips curl up at this new discovery, this crack in his exterior that gave you a sense of deja vu. “yeah, matthew,” you said, a little slowly, letting the rest of the bar melt away for a second.

this moment felt hot, sticky, like you were both suspended in amber, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact.

but moments don’t last forever, and suddenly one of his friends was slapping him on the shoulder, saying something loudly about taking too long. you weren’t really listening as you watched his face again harden into that confident expression.

he ordered a round for his friends, and the moment was gone, lost in the neon light, and you were soon pulled again to another patron, the chaotic rhythm of saturday night overtaking you again.

you didn’t see him for the rest of night, caught up in your work. towards the end of your shift, though, you happened to look up, towards the door, urged by some magnetic force, and found his gaze awaiting yours right before he walked out of the door.

a real face, a real look, unveiled and vulnerable, swimming with heat and hope and a million other dangerous things. an expression so true that you had to look away from it’s veracity, complete candor. when you looked up again, he was gone, and you assumed that would be the last time you saw him.

so, a couple nights later, deep into your shift, you almost dropped the glass in your hand when you turned and found him sitting on that same stool at your counter, looking up at you expectantly with those storybook eyes.

“matthew,” you said, softly in greeting, almost a question, confused at his presence, especially on a weeknight, without his teammates. alone, seemingly.

“princess,” he responded, an imperfect smirk playing across his mouth, revealing more teeth than he had the previous night - enough that you could see the gap between his two front, a little detail so beautiful you might have sighed.

“no crown tonight,” you responded, half smiling.

“it was never the crown,” he said, to which you gave a slight shake of your head. it didn’t hide your shy delight.

“where are your friends?” you prompted, slightly suspicious.

something that looked like hurt flashed ever so briefly across his eyes. “they’ll be here, princess, don’t worry.”

you shrugged. “wasn’t worried. just wondering why you’re here alone.”

your last word seemed to strip him entirely, lay him bare in front of you, completely vulnerable. you regretted it immediately, felt almost mean.

“but i guess you’re not alone, right? you’re here with me?” you gave him a smile, tried to will one out of him, too, half-succeeded. “ipa?” you asked, eager to bring this interaction back within the boundaries you were familiar with, ones you could control.

“whatever you’ll give me,” was his odd reply, one that had you scrunch up your face instead of reaching for a glass. “ipa works.”

your voice was laced with confusion. “i know it works. what do you want, though?”

again there was that child-like look in his eyes, veiled by a thin film of doubt, uncertainty.

and somehow you thought you knew what might have been holding him back. you shifted forward, leaned on your elbows, closer than you had been to him before. “what if i promise you’ll still be my favorite, hm? will you tell me then?”

you watched his gaze dip down to your mouth as you spoke, linger there before meeting your eyes again. not like you minded, much as you wanted. a spark of warning fired in your stomach. don’t get too close, it mumbled, you can’t fill anyone’s void.

unfortunately, it was hard to deny the utter satisfaction you felt when he looked at you like this - like you had wiped away all the bad things in the world.

but then hands landed on his shoulders, loud greetings between friends exchanged, ripping you both out of the moment.

“now i know why chucky wanted to come back here,” one of them said eventually, looking at you with a gleam in his eye you didn’t quite like. “i remember you, beautiful.”

“shame,” you said, “i don’t remember you.”

he put a hand over his heart like he’d been hurt, but his smirk was brutally arrogant, almost animalistic. “how about we make sure you don’t forget my name again, yeah?”

you rolled your eyes. “matthew, come get your dog,” you said as you grabbed a couple more glasses and began to pour the same drinks they had ordered the other night.

“you want me to start barking? ‘cause i will,” the persistent teammate pushed before turning to his side. “but it seems like you’re the one she’s got on a leash, matthew.”

you watched his face carefully as you slid the drinks their way, interested to see what would win out - the desire to maintain his mask around his friends or whatever was building between you two.

you bit your lip as you watched the internal struggle play out across his face, shooting a pleading look your way for a millisecond.

you decided to throw him a bone, put his friends in their place. “i meant to tell you. i put your game on yesterday,” you said to him.

“did you?” he asked, so blissfully hopeful.

“yeah,” you said, leaning forward again, letting yourself get a truly greedy look at him. “but i like you better in person.”

you reveled in how desperately pleased he looked by your admission.

“we were playing too, you know,” someone said, half laughing.

“were you?” you asked, a theatrically confused expression on your face. you shrugged. “don’t think i saw you. maybe i was distracted.”

one of his friends laughed. “don’t feed him, beautiful, he’ll just keep coming back.”

but you didn’t even look at whoever said the comment, instead completely locked in on matthew, and he on you.

“god, i hope so,” you said, barely more than a whisper, only meant for him.

just something you said, a true thing, and yet he did. every couple of days you would look up and there he would be, on that stool at your counter, looking up at you. sometimes his friends would come, and sometimes they wouldn’t, and on nights he was playing you would always put the game on the television where you could best see it, so you could best see him.

and despite everything he did, everything he said to you, which screamed longing and interest and want, you were surprised every time he came back. surprised that his interest in you didn’t wear off after the first couple indulgences, like it seemed to with everyone else.

but, then again, matthew struck you as the kind of person who could make a home out of anything, anyone - like the kids who would cry if someone tried to come into their treehouse, as if the magic of the place was defined by it being all for them.

sometimes this job made you feel like a building with a revolving door, so many faces fading immediately as they came into your life. it felt so good to have whatever this was, this constant, even if that warning voice tried to convince you it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last.

one night, when you put his away game on, he was picking fights, antagonizing the other team, all the while chewing on that abused mouthguard, which never failed to catch your attention, send a little shiver down your spine, make you wonder what those teeth would feel like on your bottom lip, your fingers, your neck.

this night, though, the officials had had enough, and handed him a game misconduct. he skated off the ice, into the tunnel, chants and boos echoing through the arena so loudly that even the television cameras caught their strength.

still, when the camera focused in on matthew’s face, there was nothing but that cocky, knowing smirk, that one that he had showed you the first day. that fake one. you narrowed your eyes at the tv, felt your stomach turn at the fact that he could be two people at once. how could you ever trust him that way? how could you ever believe that he really, truly, wanted you? that warning voice compressed into a lump that settled in your stomach.

the lump was still there that next night, and so was he, there in his usual spot, right before you were about to close. “missed you, princess,” he said, those blue eyes so full of meaning.

and you hated how those words meant so much to you. “yeah?” you asked, wiping down the counter. “what’d you miss?”

you expected the answer that so many people in your life had given you before: how they liked how you made them feel, how you paid attention to them. nothing about you, rather something that said more about them.

so you were stunned when his gaze dropped to you lips and stayed there. “think i started to dream about your smile,” he said, and you may have sighed, just a little, as you felt your cheeks flush.

“did you watch me?” he asked, that spark of hope lighting up his face in a silent plea.

you nodded slowly, remembering the game. “wish you had stayed on the ice longer.”

he shrugged, the motion emphasizing the muscles in his shoulders and neck. you pretended not to notice.

“why do you smile when they hate you?” you asked, your head tilted in genuine curiosity, recalling his face as he made his way down the tunnel.

there was that mask again. “i love it.”

“you don’t,” you said, shaking your head slightly, watched him swallow.

“what?” he asked. you could have imagined the smallest shake in his voice.

“you don’t. you do that other smile you do.” you didn’t tell him your theory, that you knew if a crowd booed loud enough, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend they were cheering, instead. pretend it was love.

he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff. “what other smile?”

you bit your lip, unsure how to explain it. you reached your hands forward, paused for a moment as his eyes widened, so flooded with want. that beautiful second of expectation before a first touch, the first of what you inherently knew would be many.

“like-” you put your hands on his face, ever so lightly, moved his lips until that cocky smirk was opposite you. “like this.”

“like this, princess?” he asked through your fingers, his breath on your palms, and heat thrummed in your stomach.

you nodded slowly, reluctant to take your hands off of him. “and my favorite one is like this,” you said, moving his lips again until you were satisfied with the replica smile you had created, toothy and wide and beautiful - until you realized he was smiling at you like that anyways, without any manipulation.

you grinned back at him, melted at the simmering heat and longing in his eyes. before you could question it, you let yourself tap one finger to his front teeth, feeling the gap there, that imperfect feature you had most loved when you first saw it, felt your throat tighten at the way he was looked at you, the way he let his mouth just barely close around your finger.

a feather light motion that made your next breath come out shaky before drawing yourself away. you hadn’t realized just how close you had drifted towards him, even with the counter between you.

you glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it much later than you expected. “i need to close,” you said, clearing your throat. “i need to count the register.”

“okay.” he looked dazed. maybe in a cartoon there would have been pink mist or little hearts floating around his head.

you tried to collect yourself, ignore the phantom of his lips around your finger, a ghost of a kiss, a promise, a plea.

you gave a shake of your head. “i need to sit there. the register unlocks from that side, in front of your chair.”

your stomach dropped at the sudden darkness his eyes took on, so much so that you knew you would give in to whatever he said next.

instead of getting up, he pushed his hips up and back, spread his legs apart, settling deeper into the seat. “seat’s open, princess,” he said, and the confidence in his voice, all over his face, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t a mask.

it was real, genuine, set ablaze by your touch.

you looked around. you were closed, everyone was gone on this monday night, except the owner, a lady older than sin who was mopping in the corner, and who was known for minding her own business.

there was nobody to judge you there, nobody to punish you for giving into this, exactly what you wanted.

time felt like jelly as you made your way around the counter, paused for a beat in front of him before he helped you up onto his lap by your waist, faced you towards the register drawer, let his arms rest around your middle.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his breathy rasp warm on your neck.

you breathed out a yes, slightly overwhelmed by all of this touch at once. his chest behind you, radiating heat, his thighs firm below you, thick arms around you. here he was, everywhere, all at the same time, and after only interacting with a counter between you, this felt almost absurdly perfect, forbidden.

so perfect that it took every semblance of your concentration to unlock the register drawer, to push the rise and fall of his chest to the back of your mind, to ignore how your own body seemed to melt into his, relax completely, an utterly miraculous contrast to the stiff, constantly active way you usually were at work.

“still okay?” he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder. you could feel his facial hair through your thin shirt, smell his cologne, knew you would smell like it, too. his thighs flexed underneath you, and you could have moaned. you were having trouble focusing on counting, never mind answering his question.

he rumbled with a laugh you felt more than heard. “princess?”

“still okay,” you managed, “but you have to be still. i need to count.”

you felt him nod and smile into your shoulder as you got to counting, the rhythm of the bills eventually lining up with the rhythm of his breathing against your back, so peaceful and right that maybe, eventually, you both would have fallen asleep like this.

“finished,” you whispered when you were done, organizing everything back where it needed to go, soaking up the last few moments of his touch for that night.

“already?” he asked, although it had probably been half an hour.

you hummed, pushed yourself up and off of him, even as his hands continued to reach for you, his gaze hungry.

so hungry it scared you. you still didn’t quite know if he just wanted someone, or if he wanted you, if he would have acted this way for anyone who asked the right questions, gave him the attention he craved, saw through his mask.

hungry, hungry, hungry, and what scared you most was that you knew that you weren’t hungry for just anyone. only for him. and that question of reciprocation, it was like injecting ice into your blood.

“it’s late,” you said. “you have to go.”

if he was hurt, he didn’t show it, seemingly completely fine with taking things however slowly you wanted to. “okay,” he said. “may i have your number, please?” there was your favorite smile.

you smiled, despite yourself. “why?”

maybe it was the late hour that caused him to misspeak when he said, “because i want you.” he quickly realized his mistake and flushed, only just. “it!” he corrected, looking like a kid with chocolate he wasn’t supposed to eat schmeared all over his face. “i meant i want it.”

you fluttered at his mix-up, delighted that maybe he meant what he said. enough that this time, you didn’t deny his request.

it was a while before you saw him again in person, as he had back to back games and then several away contests before coming home again. but, like always, you put him on the screen by the bar, feeling yourself warm every time the camera caught his face.

one night, a late night, a couple hours after one of his games had ended, you looked up and you saw him at the doorway.

a bad feeling immediately bloomed inside you.

it had been a tough loss, close until the end, and one of his stupid penalties had forced a power play goal in overtime for the opponent. worse, this result had been crucial for their playoff bid. it wasn’t looking good.

you had not expected to see him tonight - he usually didn’t come by on game nights, only on nights off. and he didn’t look right as he stood under the neon signs at the door, he looked off. he looked drunk.

his speech was slow and slurred, making you cringe. after a couple of years at this job, oh, how you hated drunk people. oh, how you never wanted to see him like this, so at the mercy of something as truly stupid as alcohol.

and even more so, how you hated to see him drink himself stupid, how you wanted to make everything all better. you signaled for the bar-back to cover for a moment.

you walked around the counter and approached him. “matthew,” you began, “what’s going on?” you tentatively touched his forearm before grabbing one of his hands, wrapping it in both of yours, bitterly aware that he was not present as you were.

“oh, princess,” he said, stumbling just a bit into your grip as you pulled him outside. he mumbled something you couldn’t hear before laughing, but the laugh was cruel, devastated.

when you were outside, the only audience was the small group of smokers that always hung around the front of the bar. you took his face in your hands. “tell me what happened.”

“what happened?” he said slowly. “what happened?” he repeated, maybe asking himself. “ruined it, always ruin it, ruin everything.” his voice came out like a haunted childlike sing-song. it made your heart shatter.

you looked in his eyes, still holding his face. “you do not ruin everything, okay? you just need to go home and sleep this off.”

“princess, princess, always tryna’ make me feel better,” he slurred, letting the whole weight of his head rest in your hands, your fingertips touching the wisps that curled around his ears. he stumbled forward into you. “need to kiss you, yeah? make me feel better.”

you dropped your hands from his cheeks as if you had been scalded. if your heart wasn’t broken before, it was now, as you pushed his chest away while he leaned forward. you felt tears begin to prickle on your waterline.

of course, he wanted you now, when he was begging to be taken care of, when he was outwardly desperate to be reassured, when his vision was probably so impaired that he couldn’t really even see your face.

of course he wanted you now, when you could have been anyone.

“one of our cabs will take you home,” you said, trying to hide the wobble in your voice as you waved one over, barely able to look at him.

he pouted. “what?” he said, teasing, but there was a bite to his tone. “don’t like me like this? not your favorite anymore?”

you didn’t have the energy to scoff. “don’t be mean. sober up. goodnight.” you opened the car door for him, forced him down into the seat.

“don’t you want to kiss me?” he pressed, looked up at you, like he had before so many times from his barstool. like he had so many times, when it had been different.

oh, how they love to be taken care of. and look at you, taking care of them. desperate, foolish girl.

and even now, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, to say no. “ask me when you’re not out of your mind.” you shut the car door and turned away, wiped your eyes with your sleeves quickly and methodically before taking a breath and getting back to the bar, to your job.

but you were a shell of yourself for the rest of the night, his words repeating over and over again in your mind. make me feel better.

so you blocked his number that you had just added, sighed of relief when one of your colleagues mentioned his team was headed away for a long stretch on the road. a week and a half without him. surely, completely isolated from him, you could forget about what happened.

and you half-believed that, until you came into work that next day and realized you would not be completely isolated from him at all.

right next to his stool there sat a bouquet of flowers and a red jersey, folded up. you already knew what name was on the back. you stood still at the entrance, reluctant to approach the offering.

“left it earlier,” the owner called from across the room, sweeping. “i told ‘m to fuck off, but he wouldn’t.”

“thanks anyways,” you said.

“i asked him why not,” she continued, the barest hint of a smile on her thin lips.

you furrowed your brow, confused.

“asked why he wouldn’t fuck off,” she said, “took him a second.”

you breathed out a laugh.

“said you didn’t know how much he cared, yet. and he needed you to know.”

you swallowed. “that’s nice of him,” you said, running the words over in your mind.

“not everyone deserves your second chances,” she said. “but i don’t let just anyone in our bar before we open.”

the words settled between you like diamond dust. the owner finished sweeping and left.

you approached the gift, found a note sitting on top of it in terrible handwriting.

i’m sorry, it read, i’m back next thursday. i’ll ask you then. you wondered briefly what he was going to ask you before you recalled what he had said to you that night when you put him in a car. your inability to fully turn him away.

you took a shaky breath as you read the last line of the note.

even if i’m not your favorite, you’re still mine.

your stomach fluttered, surprising you. so simple, and yet those words meant everything to you. that even when he got nothing from you, he wanted you still.

you hoped and hoped and hoped he meant it, and you believed it enough that you put the flowers in a vase and wore the jersey for each of his game days.

thursday came faster than you thought it would, probably because of how nervous you were. in this time apart, anything could be true. he could mean what he said, he could want you and only you, you could be counting down the minutes until finally kissing him, touching him how you so desired.

deep down, you were so deeply afraid that when he showed up, if he even showed up, that dreamy facade would be broken, and instead all of your greatest worries and insecurities would be realized.

throughout your whole thursday night shift, you were jittery, versions of how tonight could play out flashing through your mind.

the entire night flew by, until eventually it was time to close, and you tried to ignore your heart sinking. maybe this version of tonight, the one with you alone, maybe this one was for the best.

you counted the register, began to mop, waved goodnight to the owner as she left for the night and reminded you to lock up.

you did your final wipe-down of the counter, feeling the devastation begin to finally set in. you scrunched up your face, told yourself you wouldn’t cry on your bar top.

“princess.”

you looked up, and there he was, draped in neon light, and for a second it looked like sunlight streaming in through church stained-glass windows.

the sentiment didn’t seem altogether different. how many prayers had been answered at this bar? how many homemade temples had been elicited? how many haphazard gods?

“didn’t think you were coming,” you said as he made his way over to you, sat down on his stool, exactly the same dynamic as that first day, but there was no one else. only you and him.

“it’s my fault you ever had a doubt,” he said, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes, an ocean of apology.

you nodded, tossed the rag aside, rested your forearms on the counter and looked at him, eye to eye, and waited for him to say something.

“i’m sorry,” he said simply, and there was no mask to be found, only genuine regret. “i’m sorry i showed up here the way i did, i’m sorry i embarrassed you at work, i’m sorry i made you feel like just another person.”

you felt your heart stitching itself back together, however painful the process. he gently took your hands in his, warm and rough and firm. “you’re not just another person, okay, princess?” his voice was rough.

your exhale was choppy, so forced you had to close your eyes for a second. how long had you waited to hear somebody say that to you?

“you didn’t embarrass me,” you whispered. “i could never be ashamed of you.”

he gave the smallest laugh, shook his head. “even now, that’s what you focus on. how i’m feeling.”

“only because i care about how you’re feeling,” you said, almost defensive.

“you gonna let me care about how you’re feeling?” he asked, his thumbs tracing circles on your palms.

you stayed quiet, bit your lip, searched his eyes for an trace of doubt, falseness, didn’t find any. only a slowly simmering flame, drowning in want.

“you’re too far away,” you whispered.

“i’ve always resented this counter,” he said with a hint of a smile.

you gave a small smile back as you walked around the bar top, finally stood in front of him, exhaled before sitting down on top of him, your legs straddling his hips, your faces only a breath apart. you clasped your arms around his neck, leaned forward into his chest as his hands settled on your hips.

“ask me,” you all but begged.

his voice was a low rasp, his gaze syrupy with lust. “don’t you want to kiss me?”

you nodded, and he smiled, and then you were leaning forward, finally capturing his lips in a kiss that felt like neon light and television static and a million pleases, all finally answered with of course, anything for you.

you let yourself melt into his chest, tangled a hand in his curls, felt his grip tighten on the flesh at your hips.

he smiled into your mouth when you ran your tongue along the gap between his front teeth, groaned when you began to move your hips back and forth across his lap.

you tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck as you felt him grow harder beneath you, to which he bit down ever so lightly on your bottom lip, the feeling even better than what you had imagined all those times you had watched him gnaw on his mouthguard.

he used his grip to set your hips into a rhythm as you ground down on his lap.

“want to taste you so bad, princess,” he breathed into your mouth. “let me take care of you, yeah? just want to make you feel good.”

you nodded feverishly, tugged at your clothes as he lifted you off of his lap and rested you back onto the counter.

laid bare for him, you become aware of how wet you already were, perhaps the result of all the waiting, the questioning, the wanting that had existed between you both since the beginning.

he groaned at the sight of you. “fuck,” he rasped, “so wet already, hm?” he ran a finger through your folds, brought it to his mouth and sucked. “who’s this for, princess?”

“for you,” you whimpered, so eager for him to touch you how you wanted. “for you, matthew.”

“all for me.” you could hear the satisfaction in his voice before he leaned forward and began to tease you with his tongue, forced a choked moan from your throat.

one of your hands braced the counter for stability while the other shot forward of its own volition, grasping a handful of his curls, making him grunt. the noise vibrated through you.

“fuck,” you bit out, overwhelmed. he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your hips push up into him and your grip on his hair tighten. “fuck, you’re good at that.”

you felt his smile as he pushed two fingers inside of you, began to move them in and out slowly while continuing to tongue your clit.

you moaned loudly as your eyes rolled back, the combination of sensations making it hard to control your breathing, stop your back from arching up off the counter.

he brought his other hand to your stomach and pressed down, cementing your hips down into the bar top, intensifying every shock of pleasure, immediately bringing you impossibly close. “fuck, i can’t,” you whimpered, your hand grasping for sheets that weren’t there. “can’t, shit, so close-”

he lifted his head up, thumbed your clit while curling his fingers slightly inside of you. “gonna cum for me?” he cooed.

you nodded, eyes scrunched shut.

“cum, then, princess,” he pressed. “make a mess for me, hm?”

that building wave finally crashed over you, and you gave him exactly what he wanted, reveled in the fact that you could.

you caught your breath, let out a weak exhale, opened your eyes when you felt him press a light kiss against your hip, on the side of your ribs, up to your collarbone, finally on your lips.

pressed against you, you could feel every inch of him, so hard, immediately making you hungry for him again. “more,” you pleaded simply.

“yeah?” he rasped against your lips. “want more of me?”

you palmed his cock in reply, making him hiss, helped him move his clothes aside. “need to feel you inside me.”

he shifted you off of the counter and against his stool, which you immediately bent over and rested your forearms on.

he groaned, pumped his cock once, twice. “tell me this is okay, princess.”

you nodded. “please fuck me, matthew.”

he did as told, pushing inside you entirely, barely giving you any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, practically splitting you in half.

“holy fuck,” he choked out as you stretched around him. “shit, you’re so perfect for me. bein’ so good, princess, stretching for me so well.”

you moaned as you began to adjust to his size, every part of you still so sensitive from your last orgasm.

he built up his rhythm, forceful and deep but never so much that it hurt, only a pleasant pressure that began to build inside of you.

“so deep,” you whined, your voice muffled by your own arm, “fuck, feels so good.”

he grunted in time with a slow thrust in response, making your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation.

“want to see you,” he rasped, hooking one hand around your thigh and flipping you around before pushing back into you, so that now your back was against the stool, your front facing him, one knee bent. he groaned when your eyes met. “fuck, like that.”

you reached one arm up to his shoulder for support, rested the other one back against the stool. your thighs began to shake from the stimulation, making you clench down on him harder, urging another deep moan from him.

time disappeared as the rhythm of you both continued, so lost in the feeling of him and his noises, so perfect and better than anything you had imagined.

at one point, he brought one of his hands to your clit, began to tease you again with his thumb, while the other hand braced the back of your neck.

“hm, look, princess,” he said, his voice rough with wear, as he forced your gaze down to where your bodies met. “watch me fuck you, yeah?”

you whimpered at his crudeness, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight in front of you, his cock thrusting into you, his hands willing you to the edge again.

he let out a choked laugh. “oh, you like that, hm? feel you close.”

“fuck, i’m so close, matthew,” you whimpered, feeling your legs give out.

“‘s okay, princess, ‘m there too,” he mumbled, his motions becoming less controlled. “cum with me, yeah? want to feel you cream on my cock.”

you did as he asked, spurred on by his words, the overstimulation. you felt him reach his high with a groan, warm inside of you, his body collapsing against yours.

you held each other close for several long moments, the only noise between you satisfied breaths and shallow heartbeats. the air was warm, so peaceful, and you bit back a smile at how this bar was now forever changed - this peace would never leave.

you felt his facial hair scratch gently against your shoulder as his head rested there, so content to simply have you close.

it could have been a lifetime. it was probably a minute or two.

he was the first to speak. “so,” he said, drowsy and sweet, “you guys still open? how’re my chances of getting a captain and coke?”

you smiled. how far you had come from the man with the mask asking for anything, maybe an ipa.

if please had been written all over him before, x’s and o’s were now, in pastel pink.

“anything for my favorite,” you said, and he kissed just under your ear.

fin.

707 notes · View notes

mint-yooxgi · 4 months

Text

Guardian - Yandere!Griffin!Jongho

Yandere AU & Griffin AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Jongho X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,557

Warnings: Possessive thoughts, violence - both implied and alluded to. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: This one's a lil shorter than the rest, but I think it gets the point across. He also turned out much more violent and possessive than I thought he would, but I think it suits his character here. I hope you'll look forward to the final one of these coming soon, too! As always, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

The Fifteenth of The Feral Drabbles

You should have listened to me. I told you not to walk home alone in the dark. And yet… here we are.

You know, you’re much more peaceful when you’re unconscious. You don’t have a chance to nag me all the time.

It’s not that I’m trying to be controlling. Not at all. I just worry, okay?

I know it might be difficult for you to understand, but I do worry about you. I’m not always going to be around to protect you like tonight. I’m just lucky I decided to follow after you, even after we said goodnight.

I could sense them. I knew you were being followed by more than just one of them, and I couldn’t let them take advantage of you. I don’t care if we had all been out in a group to start, their intentions after we said goodbye were impure!

I see the way others look at you when you’re not paying attention. Really, it’s quite obvious, but you act like you don’t notice. Of course they’d look. They’d all be stupid not to chance a glance at the stunning beauty that lays before them. I want them to look, but only when you’re with me. Look, but never touch.

I just wish they’d leave you alone.

Can’t they understand that you’re mine?

Fucking posers. I should gouge all their eyes out for what they tried to do to you tonight. Even just thinking about it makes my blood boil and my feathers ruffle. Knowing you, you’ll probably brush it all off once you wake up, making every excuse you can for those other guys. Only I know the truth, and I don’t care if you believe me or not.

No, they weren’t ‘being nice’ and walking you home, they expected something. They always expect something. No, they also weren’t ‘keeping an eye out’ for you. I do that. They were stalking you! I hear them always whispering about that one guy asking you out, and I couldn’t have that!

You understand, right? Why I had to split his head open like a watermelon? He could have taken you away from me, and I couldn’t have that. You mean too much to me…

Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. I’ll keep you safe. I’m the only one who can. The only one you should trust.

The moon is full tonight as the wind whips through my feathers. I thought taking you for a little flight would help soothe you after the trauma you’ve just endured. Despite you being unconscious, I feel like it’s helping. I’ve got you, and even in your sleep, you’ve got me. I will never let you fall, and besides, maybe if you wake up while we soar through the night sky, you’ll be less mad about what happened.

Not that you should be mad at all, but you always get upset at me when I stick up for you. Every time I step in when people make inappropriate comments, or I ‘accidentally’ trip someone that’s standing a little too close to you, you cuss me out. I can practically hear your voice in my head already yelling about how they were just being ‘friendly’.

‘Friendly’ my ass.

Good thing you’re asleep. That eye roll would have earned me a smack on my arm. Perhaps even a disappointed shake of your head, too.

You’re lucky I love you. I let you get away with so much shit I normally would never put up with. I suppose that’s what happens when you care about someone as much as I care about you…

I’ll never admit how much I enjoy it when you touch me, even when you playfully smack my arm, or the upside of my head. I’d rather receive one hundred- no, one thousand of those than see you even lay a finger on someone else that’s not me. If you thought I was violent tonight, you should see some of the corpses of the people who’ve touched you, especially without your permission. Certain people, like our close friends and your family, I can let slide. But nasty fuckers who think they have any sort of chance with you?

Never.

It’s pathetic how easily their flesh shreds beneath my claws. Honestly, I can’t believe any of them ever thought that they even had a chance with you. If they can’t save themselves, how are they ever going to protect you? Fucking pathetic, weak morsels that don’t deserve to even share the same air as you.

Of course, I’d never let you see that side of me. The one that’s covered in entrails and blood after disposing of the trash. You’d worry too much, and besides, I never want you to be scared of me. You have nothing to fear. Never from me. Not while I’m around. After all, everything I do, I do for you.

Really, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Say the word, even so much as imply you want something, and it’s yours. You are my one and only saving grace in this godforsaken world, and I will do everything in my power to see you smile. I will always be there to offer you a shoulder to cry on, and loving arms to embrace you when you need me.

Nothing is off limits. I just want to make you happy.

I will make you happy. I know I will. Yet, you seem to brush off my advances every chance you get. What will it take for you to see how completely and utterly devoted I am to you? I would burn down entire cities, level the highest of mountains to the ground to prove myself to you.

The impossible will become probable with me around. That’s my promise to you.

See! Even subconsciously you want to be close to me! Your grip just tightened on my back. You’re even nuzzling closer into my feathers!

…Either that, or you’re waking up.

Perhaps I should simply glide through the air now if that’s the case. Like I said, I don’t want to scare you.

Oh… it seems as though it was a false alarm. You’re still sleeping so soundly. As you should.

I’ve got you.

Are you dreaming of me? I always dream about you, so it’s only fair. I promised myself that I’d become the man of your dreams, but to think that might be literal is just… well, it only makes my affections for you grow. Let me protect you in your dreams just as well as I protect you in reality. Let my love wash over you so you feel it even when you’re away from me, deep within your own unconscious mind. Feel my devotion washing over you with every breath, and stay with me. Forevermore.

Perhaps now you’ll take me seriously. After you wake up, and calm down of course, I’ll tell you how I really feel. No more skirting around our feelings, and hoping you’ll understand why I do what I do. I need to be more forward, and finally tell you my everlasting love for you is real.

Thinking of it now… will you kiss me when I confess? Oh, gods… just thinking about the feel of your lips pressed against my own is making my head spin. Are they as soft as they look? Have you fantasized about mine as often as I’ve dreamt about yours? Do you also want my lips to caress every inch of your body when we’re alone? I swear nothing but the sweetest of praises will fall from my lips as I press them to your own, and all over your glorious body worthy of every piece of worship I plan to offer to you.

And worship you I shall.

There will be no part of you untouched by me. There is no part of you unloved by me. I plan to show you, to make you mine in every meaning of the sense, but only if you will allow me to do so. I only ever want to please you, to make you shake as you succumb to the deepest throws of pleasure, drowning you completely in ecstasy so you can no longer tell where you end and I begin.

I was made to love you, and you were made to be loved by me.

Let me feel your nails digging into my back. Mark up my thighs which I know you adore. It’s cute to see you turn away shyly every time I catch you staring and admiring me. Though, you shouldn’t be ashamed, I admire you, too. Every chance I can get.

I always hear you joking about finding someone who will completely ravage you. Someone who will make you scream their name until the early hours of the morning. Someone to love you until you can’t take it anymore, to focus completely on you and you alone.

Well, Darling, I’m right here. Ready and eager whenever you are. You wouldn’t even have to ask, for I would fall to my knees to please you. Every. Single. Time.

Once you wake up, I’ll take you home. I just hope someday that home will be with me. A place to call our own. Where I am yours, and you are mine.

As it should be.

As it will be.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu net #yandere ateez #yandere jongho #ateez scenario #jongho scenario #ateez imagine #kpop au #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #griffin au #chubby reader #ateez au

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mourningstarrz · 10 months

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They Belong to Me

summary: ghostface!ethan convinces his family to not include gn!reader from their attacks

tags: nothing rlly LOL, established relationship, secret relationship, alluded murder

a/n: idk bro i was up at night and thought of this, also reader isn’t present until the end LMAOAOAO anyways not beta’d or proofread. lmk if y’all would like to see this develop more :)

“I’ll take care of Jason and Greg tonight, I want you the two to be in the clear. Okay?” Quinn and Ethan nodded, taking note of their fathers each and every word. “Alright, now then.” Bailey pulled out a photo of the entire friend group, “they’ll think Jason and Greg hits close to home, but I think we should take it a step further and go for the new addition,” he pointed at you, stood between Sam and Ethan.

“No.” Capturing Bailey and Quinn’s attention, the two turned to look at Ethan with a frown. “We leave y/n out of this.”

“We’re not going to let your dumb infatuation with y/n ruin our plan!” Quinn yelled at him. “You don’t even know if y/n likes your ass, why spare them?”

He sighed and looked up at Bailey, determined to protect you. “Leave y/n out of this. I follow all your orders, and all I want is for them to be safe.” looking back at the picture, he fights back the smile from the memory. “For example, I know y/n trusts me. Mindy is constantly on my ass as a joke, which makes it more likely for her to notice something. Anika is cool with me, but not enough to back me up. Chad,” he blows a raspberry, “yeah, he’s my roommate. But the moment Mindy gets any inkling of anyone, he’s quick to back her up.

“Quinn already has Tara and Sam’s trust to back her up because she’s their roommate. Besides having y/n trust to back me up, I’m only asking for this one favor. Never have I asked for more.” He leaned back against the chair, folding his arms above his chest. “Stay away from y/n. Jason and Greg is close enough.”

A beat of silence. Ethan knew he was stepping in dangerous territory. Asking his psychotic family to not rip you to shreds. But he knew he has to try, he would rather die than bare having to know your fall was due to his family, or even worse, himself.

“Richie always took care of me,” he never did “he would’ve been happy to see me happy.” Richie could’ve cared less about Ethan.

At the sound of the sigh from his father, Ethan congratulated himself. “Fine. But if they run the possibility of ruining everything for us, then you have to kill them. Got it?”

This is the best I can do, he thought to himself. “Fine. Y/n is out of this. Okay?”

Quinn grumbled, leaning against her chair. “Whatever.”

As he opened the door, his face lit up at the sight of you mindlessly on his bed, listening to music and scrolling away on your phone. Dropping his backpack on his desk, he walked over to you, smiling when you looked away from your phone.

“Eth!” Flinging your headphones off, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Sighing as the scent of his cologne filled your senses.

He hugged you back, of course. Sitting down next to you. “Miss me that much?” Ethan asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“I thought I came ‘round too early.” You confessed, turning around and fetching your notebook. “Ready to go over econ? This chapter is so confusing to me…”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded and walked up to his backpack, grabbing his notebook as his phone buzzed. None other than Quinn texting him.

quinn hirsch

your little partner better not screw anything up.

Ethan rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone. Taking out a pencil and turning back to you with a smile, “you’re lucky I’m your boyfriend AND your tutor.”

a/n: ANYWAYS YEAH LMKKK IF YOU WANT MOREEE reblogs r appreciated🫶

-lucifer

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #ghostface #lucifer writes

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someplace-darker · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 7: Costumes | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (no y/n)

Wordcount: 1.7k (this is going to be the longest one)

Warnings: 18+, PWP, costumes, a lot of sacrilegious activities, party sex, dirty talk, no protection (wrap it!!), afab reader but no pronouns are used, maybe slightly ooc matt but i am too tired to care. it's porn.

Summary: You may have fucked up on picking costumes for Marci's Halloween party, but at least Matt looks hot, right? Surely this won't awaken anything in the two of you- right?

A/N: Hi! I kind of got carried away on this one, there's probably a lot off repeat phrases, but this is the late day 7 and the late day 8 should be coming tonight as well but if not: oops. Also cmon, i had to make it a priest costime.

It had taken months of begging and persuasion to get Matt to even consider putting on a costume for halloween. Much less a shitty priest costume that you had snagged from the local party shop two hours before Marci’s ‘ghoul gala’ party. You’re not exactly sure how to tell Matt what the two of you will be going as, the ‘hot nun’ costume you snagged alongside his currently laying on his bed in front of you as you contemplate your options.

“It could be worse,” you nearly jump out of your skin, having forgotten you called Karen for help, her slightly glitched voice coming through your phone. Sighing, you pick up your costume and open the packaging, allowing the spandex like material to fall out onto the sheets. It’s incredibly skimpy considering what it’s portraying, the slats on the long skirt allowing most of your legs to be visible. Obviously the holy grail of it all, the wimple cutting off at your collarbones to allow a deep V to run down your chest “how can it be worse than this Karen, truly. I mean I could spit on a bible, maybe then-”

“You’re being dramatic, I’m sure Matt will love it.”

“I think Matt is going to have a stroke, but I appreciate your enthusiasm,” you remark dryly, biting back a smile when Karen snorts.

“Well he just left the office not too long ago so he should be back to you soon. Marci’s thing starts in about an hour, Foggy left the office in costume so I assume he’s more than stressed about it.”

“Oh i’m sure he’ll feel better when we get there,” you laugh, perking up when you hear the door click shut “Matt just got home, i’ll see you at the party okay bye!”

“Was that Karen?” Matt asks, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Yeah,” you speak, voice tight as you prepare yourself to tell him about your outfits for the night. He notices immediately, concerned questions spilling from his mouth and you brush off each one, assuring him that you’re okay before pulling from his hold to grab his packaged costume. You turn back and hold it out in front of him, biting your lip when he takes it from you, squeezing the plastic that encloses it.

You take the chance as soon as he begins to open it “don’t be mad at me.”

Matt pauses, sunglasses turning in your direction as he sighs “what did you do?”

The venue was huge, and you suddenly understood why Marci had spent so much money on it. You had been correct about Foggy’s mood improving when you showed up, the neutral look on his expression immediately turning into one of disbelief and elation. “You’re kidding me,” Foggy laughs, walking directly to Matt and pulling him into a hug before holding him back at arm's length. Matt is tense, you can feel it, but god he looks so hot, so you can’t find it in yourself to be that worried. The clerical collar accentuates the muscle and veins in his neck, adam's apple bobbing against it when he leans toward you to speak. “At least act like you’re not getting wet right now,” Matt grits his teeth, his volume dropped low enough so only you can hear.

Foggy’s voice is immediately drowned out by the rush in your ears, your thighs clenching together, his words like a warm rush through your body. “I need a drink,” you manage to spit out, weaving through the group of people until you reach the cooler on the opposite side of the room, pulling a seagram and beer from the ice. You’re half tempted to climb in, just to cool the heat that is spreading to the end of all your limbs and maybe clear your head. The beating in your chest is rapid, heavy thumps against your ribcage as your heart repeats what Matt has just said to you over and over and over, and you know for a fact that he’s listening to it purely because of the smirk that tugs his lips as you walk back towards him.

“Fancy a drink, father?” you raise your voice over the music to tease, handing the bottle to him with a bit more force than intended. Matt doesn’t know what he expects to feel when father slips off your tongue with such carnality, but lust was not one of them. It burns fiery in his chest, everything he has ever been taught about Thou shall not covet suddenly thrown out the window. You see the dilemma in the shape of the sharp inhale Matt takes, jaw clenching tight enough to see the muscle work.

“You’re treading an incredibly thin line here, sweetheart,” Matt warns, hand going to rest on the base of your spine before pulling you flush to his . The open slats of your costume causes your legs to brush against his pants, the thin fabric not doing much to cover the feeling of his hardening cock against you. “What?” you say breathlessly, hoping the thumping of music will drown out everything you say “you can’t handle it father? Do you need me to confess my sins?” The pressure against your lower back increases, as does your heart rate.

“You don’t need to confess them,” Matt replies smoothly “I’ll fuck them out of you.”

There’s a moment of pause as you gasp and Matt’s head cocks to the side as he focuses on something, bottle being taken from your hand and set on a table, his glasses nearly black mixed with the deep red lighting of the room. Grabbing your hand, Matt begins to tug you to the back of the venue, passing by people with ease and you hope that it’s too dark for anyone to notice the blind man leading you instead of the other way around. Soon enough he’s at a door, twisting the handle and pulling you inside. It’s a washroom, also bled in the same crimson lighting as if a bloodied glass was placed in front of your eyes. It’s giving you a headache.

“Is this what you wanted? Play a game of blasphemy until I get fed up and make you feel good?” Matt twists the lock on the door and presses you forward until your thighs hit the sink, his breathing ragged and heavy against your back. The costumes may have been unplanned, but your choice of words throughout the night had not. This is what you wanted, but the admittance of it out loud seemed more like desecration than anything else. You do it anyway.

“Yes,” you grin, pressing your ass back into him. Pride blooms in your chest when he chokes out a moan, fingers frantically pulling the skirt up to bunch at your waist before undoing his belt and pants. Matt’s hand rests between your shoulder blades, pressing you forward to bend over the porcelain. You blink back the haze in your eyes glancing up at the mirror inches in front of your face to peek at him, the sight of the clergy shirt ridden up his stomach revealing his hand fisting his cock enough to make you whimper.

You’ve never seen Matt so worked up before, and something tells you this is a subject you’ll have to tap into again at a later time. Right now though, he’s pressing into you slowly, lip caught between his teeth as he focuses on the feeling of your cunt taking him in. “Made for me,” he murmurs before pulling his hips back just the slightest to press in further than before.

The counter digs into your legs with each roll of his hips, moans tumbling past your lips with no hesitation, your body responding to him as it always does. “Oh my god Matty, so good,” you whimper, eyes pinching shut. No one has ever made you feel like Matt has, romantically or physically, the call of his body always pulling a response from yours. Your hands press against the tiled wall, eyes blinking open and glancing over him in the reflection catching the quick dip of his head, his hips stalling momentarily.

One hand leaves your hips to grip the white collar, pulling on it “gotta be quiet now sweetheart, someone’s waiting outside.The music is loud, but so are you.” Once it tugs free he reaches around to your face, holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite,” he instructs, voice ragged and terse. You do, clenching your teeth onto it to keep from crying out when his hips slam back against you. Your pussy clenches around him as your knees shake, the only thing keeping you from falling being the sink you’re bent over.

“Being so good sweetheart, need you to cum for me,” Matt moans, almost unheard through the ringing in your ears and hum of the outside music. Small shocks spark along your skin when his fingers find your clit, rubbing and applying pressure that has you keening, face falling forward to press against the cool metal of the faucet. He knows exactly how to play you like an instrument, knows how to make you sing the prettiest songs for him like this, and he knows it. You can hear his cocky chuckle when your legs begin to shiver, hands slipping from their spot on the wall.

Everything seems to slow except for your breathing, your orgasm racking up your spine and down your legs, inching through to your fingers and it takes everything in you to keep the collar clenched in your mouth as to not alert whoever may be lurking by the door. Matt praises you through it, slowing his thrusts but not stopping, waiting until he knows you’re coherent enough to hear him to speak.

“That’s it, baby, you did so amazing,” Matt leans forward to press a kiss to the back of your head, pulling the white fabric from your lips “think you can do another?” He rolls his hips into yours once more, hitting something inside you that makes the red lighting of the room turn to white. You hum, pushing back against him.

“Yes, father.”

#kinktober #my writing #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fic #daredevil smut #priest!Matt murdock #not really but kind of #it's a costume #i am so exhausted

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matan4il · 7 months

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Ive long believed that this recent extremist hatred of “colonists” was more about the perceived value of the people being colonized than about the actual harm to human life that colonization causes. (And I do not think of Israelis as colonizers, btw) The past hours have proven this to me. It’s not about whether they think Israel is truly guilty of colonization; it’s that Israelis would dare go against a group they have decided has fundamentally different and more valuable level of humanity. The same exact people who claim they’d support indigenous Americans taking back the land hate Jews for doing exactly that. And my God, the amount of people who spend most of their time discussing sexism and violence against women now saying that the innocent women being killed and kidnapped en masse is “the price to pay” is making my blood boil. I feel like I’ve witnessed so many people just toss all decency and morality out the window just so they can pat themselves on the back for being “anti-colonialists”. Anti-semetism has so rotted peoples brains. I’m praying for you and for every life caught up in this atrocity.

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for the ask.

Let me just say you're of course right that Israeli Jews are not colonizers of the Jewish ancestral homeland. But I haven't been touching this point, because the truth is... even if they were, would it justify such barbarity? Or do we as human beings believe in the sanctity of life, and understand that violence, rape, torture, mutilation and cold blooded murder, let alone mass murder, should NEVER be accepted as the solution to any problem?

Did people take the Nazis, those who committed the worst crimes in human history, and tried to use them to justify the massacre of all Germans, or to de-legitimize the very existence of a German state?

I actually sadly don't think the world does value the lives of Palestinians. I'm friends with so many. Mainly, as a gay woman, I have gay Palestinian friends. I have friends whose families found out they're gay, threatened to kill them, they applied for refugee status in so many western countries, but none would take them. I'm aware that Palestinians are being discriminated against BY LAW in so many places (for example in Lebanon, where Palestinians are barred from no less than 39 professions). If this were about their well being, then pro-Palestinian activists and demonstrations would be speaking up about the mistreatment of Palestinians everywhere! But they don't. If they can't blame the Jewish state for a perceived wrong, they don't care what happens to Palestinians.

Not everyone, obviously. Many accept the info as handed to them and they think they're being pro-Palestinian, when really they're just being fed, and then end up passing on, anti-Israel propaganda.

So, sadly I think this is a new form of antisemitism, expressed by singling out the Jewish state. It isn't the push for human rights it pretends to be, or the movement would care about the human rights of Palestinians in places like Lebanon and Jordan, too.

I think a good way to sum up what's wrong with people justifying the massacre that we experienced here is found in this image:

Thank you, I really appreciate the care and the prayers! Sending you endless hugs and love! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#ask #anon ask #israeli #israel news #israel #antisemitism #kindness #fandom love #thank you!#<33333 #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #jew #jews #judaism

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perpetualcynicism · 7 days

Text

…𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: In which Heizou takes you to see Inazuma’s Summer Festival, but that’s not what you’ll remember the outing for. …𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Fluff, pining. …𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Crowds, I guess? …𝙻𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑: 3,632 words. …𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Gender-neutral reader, modern AU, friends-to-lovers, mentions of Japanese street food and festival games. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

𝚂𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚛.

“This way, hurry!”

Your heels drove into the floor to propel yourself forwards as you forced your way through the crowd. Heizou slipped ahead of you, weaving past the sea of arms and torsos with skill you could envy. Your blood rushed in your ears. The hot pulse thrummed in time with your heartbeat. Somebody knocked their elbow into your ribs. You felt the air being forced out from your lungs.

“Careful!” Heizou said, glancing at you from over his shoulder. You would have called back “I know!”, but you were too winded to speak. “Don’t get lost, now. We’re almost there!”

Another influx of people flooded past, forcing you back into the main body of the crowd. You felt yourself be pushed forwards, right, left, pulled this way and that like a fish floundering against a current. Is it always this busy? you thought, drawing your clothes tighter around yourself.

“Quickly, over here! There’s an opening in the crowd!”

You sighed and picked up the pace, internally lamenting the crumpled, twisted state of your yukata as you did. You’d wanted to wear something nice for tonight. It was, after all, a long-awaited occasion. The fact that Heizou was here had nothing to do with it.

As promised, a gap appeared in the people ahead of you. You squeezed past a final troupe of people, elbowing your way past a tourist group, and made towards the gap at lightning speed.

The situation was this: ever since you’d first come to study in Inazuma, there was one thing you’d wanted to see here—the Teyvat-renowned Summer Festival. When you arrived, you’d missed it just shy of a week. During the second, workload and life got in the way of things (as they had a tendency to do), and by the time the third Summer Festival of your stay rolled around, you had accepted that this dream of yours was unlikely to happen, and with the same mourning feeling of bidding goodbye to an old friend, you let the dream go. After two missed festivals, you reasoned, you could survive one more. There were other, more important things to focus on, anyhow.

That of course was upturned the moment a certain Shikanoin Heizou, by now a close friend of yours whom you’d made shortly after you arrived, asked you off-handedly one day, “Hey, wanna come to the Summer Festival with me?” You had jumped at the chance as any sensible person would. He’d grinned in response.

And that is how you found yourself squished up in a sea of vibrantly-dressed festival goers on a hot summer evening, practically suffocated by the close quarters. It was not, admittedly, the most flattering start to the night.

“We should have taken another way around,” you muttered bitterly, brushing yourself off as you broke free of the crowd, although you didn’t really mean it. You were glad to be here in the first place. Oxygen was a necessary sacrifice you were willing to make.

“You alright?” Heizou asked as you sidled up beside him. It took a moment for you to catch your breath.

“Yeah. Somewhat flattened,” you admitted finally, earning a sympathetic laugh from Heizou, “but it feels good to breathe again.”

He nodded. “That’s a relief. Sorry about that, by the way. I could’ve taken us down a less busy route.”

“It’s okay. It was me who wanted to go through the main entrance, anyway.”

Heizou glanced over at you, briefly pausing. “Oh, your yukata—”

“I know,” you sighed. You brushed down the front of the garment and readjusted the collar which had been twisted sideways in the scuffle. “So much for looking good for the festival, huh?”

Heizou clicked his tongue. “Come on, don’t say that. You look amazing.”

You weren’t completely convinced, but you thanked him anyway. For a moment, you watched the ocean of people flow past, a mesmerising array of bright colours and patterned kimonos. You supposed it was your fault for trying to get in at the busiest time of the evening.

“Do you still want to continue through the stalls?” Heizou asked once the human flood died down a little.

You scoffed light-heartedly. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I do.” Heizou flashed you another smile and reached for your hand. Before he could set off and pull you along through the park hosting the festival, you added, “Maybe in a slightly less crowded area, though.”

“Got it.”

And you were off again. Heizou took the lead in showing you around, since he knew where he was going and you did not. You walked shoulder-to-shoulder through the assorted festival stalls, occasionally jostled about by the colourful crowd, talking and laughing as you went. Well, Heizou did most of the talking, while you admired all the decorations like a wide-eyed child.

“Someone's enjoying themselves,” he commented with a sly grin once he finished recounting a tale about this fraud-warning show he’d tried putting on some time ago.

“Oh, be quiet, you,” you grumbled, batting him lightly on the arm. He bumped your shoulder in return.

“Ooh, hang on.” Heizou stopped in his tracks. He was looking at something behind you.

You turned around to see what had caught his attention. “What is it?” you asked.

“Sparklers,” he replied with a grin, already making for the stall in question. You trailed after him in pursuit.

“Aren’t sparklers dangerous in a space as packed as this?” you queried as you pushed yourselves into the winding queue.

“Well, technically yeah,” he admitted, “But you only live once, right?”

You raised a brow. “Only living once to die to a sparkler sounds like a pretty sorry way to go.”

“Here,” he said, decidedly ignoring your comment and offering you a fizzling sparkler, “have one. My intuition tells me it’s perfectly safe.”

For all your criticism, you thanked him and took it—though you couldn’t resist adding, “If this is where I die, I’m blaming you and your intuition.”

Heizou’s face fell in an expression of mock offence as he took back his change for the sparklers. “When has my intuition ever been wrong?” he asked. You were forced to admit he had a point. Walking back up to you, he continued, “And besides, do you really trust me so little to save you? To whisk you away from danger at a moment’s notice?”

You clicked your tongue. “Afraid so. Against a formidable sparkler,” you waved the aforementioned item in front of his face, and tiny sparks leapt out from it like fireflies, “I’m not sure even the mighty Shikanoin Heizou stands a chance.”

“Careful with that. You could poke someone’s eye out.”

Exasperated with his teasing hypocrisy, you sighed and didn’t reply. You resumed your walk for a few more minutes, taking in the decorated maple trees and the dusk air, sparklers spitting gold, before Heizou stopped again in the middle of the gravel path without warning.

“Let’s go this way,” he said, stepping off the path and into the grass.

“Why?”

His smile and mysterious tone of voice revealed nothing. “Just come.”

“Okay…”

You let Heizou tug you up the hill around which the celebrations were being held. The maple trees thinned the higher you went until you had a full view of the sky overhead. The city’s skyscrapers winked their neon lights at you, rising like glittering columns from the surrounding treeline below. Faintly, you could make out the sounds of traffic in the distance.

A deep indigo was setting into the evening sky and revealed little studded stars as it darkened, marking the transition from dusk to nightfall. Only a faint red flush told you that sunset had yet to end.

People were trickling steadily in from the surrounding paths which lead from the main activities, but it was quieter here than in the middle of the festive throng. Colder, too. You hadn’t taken notice of the cool summer wind when you were being crushed amid moving bodies, but here, in this relative isolation, it became apparent that the night was not as hot as you’d thought it was.

Just as you were going to suggest finding somewhere warmer to stand—behind a tree, maybe, to block the breeze—the last crimson blush faded from the horizon. Heizou put a hand on each of your shoulders and whispered into your ear, “Surprise!”

No sooner had he spoken than the night came alive with colour. Dazzling twisters of pink and blue sprang into the sky, squealing as they burst into shimmering showers of gold over the treeline. Red, sparkling rockets were set off in the shapes of foxes and kitsune masks which exploded among the constellations like they were dancing with the stars themselves.

“Woah,” was all you could get out before your jaw fell open. To your right, Heizou’s mouth tugged into a smile which half matched your own excitement and was half smug.

“That’s what you wanted to see right?”

You nodded, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

“How do you like it?” he prodded.

A redundant question, but you answered it anyway. “It’s… I mean, it’s incredible.”

Heizou chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek in an action too quick for you to register. “I’m glad you like it.” He tugged on your hand, leading you further into the stalls. “Come on, let’s go find a better spot to watch it from.”

You let him pull you forwards. The kiss hit seconds later. The moment it clocked you, you felt your face light up like a furnace. Your limbs went stiff, like they were locked at the joints, and you were rendered frozen for a good while, practically being dragged along by Heizou while your feet stumbled uselessly over the ground. Wait, when had your heart started racing? Bemused, you lifted your hand to lightly touch the tingling spot he’d marked, the fireworks a distant afterthought.

You came back to your senses when you reached the hilltop. You and Heizou nudged your way through the crowd, all donned in plastic kitsune masks and holding wooden gohei, until you found an open space and sat down on the grass. Once more your attention was captivated by the fireworks display, and the kiss was a fleeting memory gone in the next burst of colour.

You watched the rest of the fireworks in awed silence. The display went on for a few minutes more, and the glittering colour faded from the sky all too quickly.

“Good show, right?” Heizou’s voice snapped you back to the present moment. He was looking at you intently, like he was studying your expression for a sign of your own opinion. In the olives of his irises, you could faintly make out the glittering reflection of the fireworks’ dying showers. “I heard Naganohara Fireworks played a big hand in it this year. What did you think?”

You floundered for words, struggling to find a way to articulate your answer. Finally, you succeeded in stammering out, “I’ve never seen anything like it before in my life.” You shook your head, disbelieving. To think you’d practically given up on coming—and you wouldn’t have, if not for him. “Thank you for taking me here. Seriously. It’s everything I could have hoped for.”

“No problem,” Heizou replied, his smile contagious. “It’s my pleasure.” He stood up from the grass and stretched widely. You suspected it was for dramatic effect: you’d hardly been sitting long enough to develop a cramp, much less in the arms. He dropped his arms to his side and shot you a grin. “Do you want to go and get some taiyaki?”

You barely had the time to say ‘yes’ before you were pulled to your feet and into a run, ducking and weaving between the crowd, your laughter mingling in the air as you went. The stream of people thickened again as you entered the main length of the path; shoved about backwards and forwards, your hand slipped from his and a row of passersby blocked your vision. When they cleared, Heizou had vanished among the crowd.

You turned from side to side in a futile attempt to locate him. Just as you were reaching into your pocket to call him on your phone, you felt a tap on your shoulder. There he stood, grinning, holding two paper bags containing one taiyaki each. His mouth moved as he said something you couldn’t make out over the crowd’s hubbub, and he held out one of the bags to you. You accepted it with a ‘thank you’ and, chewing on the snack as you went, elbowed your ways into a less crowded space.

“This is really good,” you remarked, taking another bite from the fish’s sorry head. The pastry was crispy on the outside, yet chewy and not too firm, and the red bean filling was still warm. You spoke around your mouthful, “And it’s not too sweet, either.”

“I know, right?” Heizou nodded towards the taiyaki he was holding. “I suspect the secret to these is in the batter: they probably leave out the egg when making it, so the pastry is more crispy.”

You swallowed down a large chunk of the stuff. “That makes sense.”

Once you finished the taiyaki, you moved along through the other stalls, splashing out on festival foods and having a go at games like shateki, during which you made the pleasant discovery of having a very good aim with low-quality guns, and wanage, during which you discovered Heizou was much better at throwing rings than you were. By the time you’d exhausted all the stalls, it was well into the later hours of night. The crowd thinned slowly. You and Heizou made your way back through the emptying park, occasionally glancing at games which still caught your interest.

“I ate way too much,” you groaned, holding what felt like a swollen lump in your stomach. “Nobody should have that much fried food.”

Heizou agreed as he stretched out his arms again beside you. “If I see another piece of kaarage, I think I’m going to throw up.”

“I thought you loved fried food.”

“‘Loved’ being the keyword there,” he lamented. “Past tense.”

“Too much of a good thing, huh?”

“Something like that.”

You walked in silence for a few minutes, watching tourists and locals move throughout the stalls. The initial buzz of energy you felt when arriving here had lessened. It was calmer, now, yet also felt strangely lonely. Your sparkler produced a final, feeble sizzle of light before dying out. You were surprised it had hung on for so long at all. Its death seemed to mark the end of the festive spirit, too. Absentmindedly, you took out your phone and checked the time. 01:24.

“We should probably head back now,” you said, a touch regretfully. Heizou nodded.

“Yeah, I was thinking so, too.”

You passed your weight from foot to foot, hovering there awkwardly. Even though you’d spent a whole evening together, you didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. You searched your mind for some excuse to make.

“You know, I could walk you back,” you offered. “I doubt it’s dangerous because most people are at the festival, but better safe than sorry, right?”

A grin spread across Heizou’s face and brightened his eyes. “Oh? Are you volunteering to be my big, strong bodyguard?”

“Big, strong bodyguard at your service,” you confirmed, folding your arms across your chest, “to keep the damsel from harm.”

Heizou pressed his hand to his forehead in a fake swoon. “Oh, my, I can barely stand. Please, my good knight, save this poor, helpless—ah!” He tipped backwards too far in his swoon and stumbled into a surprised-looking tourist who dropped their gohei at the collision. He apologised and picked himself back up while you wheezed with laughter in the background.

“What the fuck,” you snorted once he rejoined you.

“I couldn’t handle your manliness,” he explained miserably. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, as if to say, fair enough. “You know what, I can forgive that. Not many people can.”

“Should we get going, then, my shining-armoured knight?”

“We shall.” Maybe it was the festival food getting to your head, but on a whim, you boldly held out your arm to Heizou. The thing was that you hadn’t been expecting him to actually take it. He hooked his elbow around yours, flashing you a confident grin which made your heart stutter, and bumped your shoulders together. Jitters shot down your arm from the contact.

A teasing slyness crept into Heizou’s voice. “What, is my bodyguard getting nervous? Tsk. How unmanly of you.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you grumbled. “The manliest people get nervous, too.”

He laughed brightly. Your face warmed. You always felt this kind of proud flush when you managed to make him smile.

You made your way to the park’s exit and set down the road, leaving the glowing lights of the Summer Festival behind you. You talked as you walked about whatever took your fancy: recent gossip, the news, workloads, and, when Heizou insisted on ‘protecting’ you from a street cat wandering around the bins by walking bravely in front of you and distracting it with a gohei you’d purchased earlier, the topic of bodyguards again. You raised your eyebrow after Heizou confirmed the cat was gone.

“I thought I was supposed to be the big, strong bodyguard here,” you remarked.

“Even the big, strong bodyguard needs a bodyguard themselves, you know.”

You pointed out, “Wouldn’t that bodyguard need a bodyguard too, though?”

“What a conundrum. I don’t think there are enough of us for infinite bodyguards—oh, speaking of which, I don’t think we’ll need any more bodyguards anyway. Here we are.”

You looked up to see a familiar door standing in front of you. A too familiar door. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Hang on a minute.”

Unknowingly, you must have led the two of you back to your place, not his. You grimaced, feeling guilty for bringing him here when you’d said you would take him back to his place. You yourself usually walked alone, so even though you knew where Heizou lived, you weren’t used to returning there. You’d probably walked this way without thinking. Muscle memory, you supposed.

“I don’t know how we ended up here.” You scratched your neck. “Er, sorry about that. I can still walk you to your place and come back afterwards, if you want.”

He shook his head. “No, there’s no need at all. We both got carried away while talking. I can make my own way back alone.”

You shifted in your place, guilt still gnawing at you with its little, irritating teeth. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” Teasingly, he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t get ambushed.”

You grumbled, but begrudgingly let go of your doubt. If he was sure, then he was sure.

“Um,” you began. “Thank you so much for today, by the way. Again. All of it was…” You trailed off, recollecting all the games, food, street performances, fireworks you’d seen that evening. They flooded back to you painted golden, like you were remembering them through the leaping light of a sparkler. “Archons, I can’t put it into words. Everything was amazing.”

He grinned at you, and it was the warmest thing you’d ever seen. “The pleasure was all mine.” He paused, then said, “You know, it’s not often I see you smiling as much as you did tonight.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, “you do have a strange way of doing that to me.”

Instead of continuing the banter with another quip, Heizou stepped closer and opened his arms out in front of you expectantly: an invitation you knew well by now and could never resist. You stepped into his arms and he pressed you into a hug.

You didn’t hug many people, but there was something about Heizou’s hugs which made you feel so grounded and secure for all of his light-hearted demeanour. As you held each other this time, you noticed you could feel his breath on the side of your neck and his hair tickling your shoulder, and you wondered, Were you always this close when you hugged? His arms wrapped around you just a fraction tighter than they should; he kept the embrace for only a moment longer than a good friend would.

Before you could question it fully, he pulled away, still holding your hands. His hands were so warm.

“See you on campus tomorrow?”

“Not if I see you first.”

Heizou chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “Game’s on,” he said. You did the two-finger gesture of I’ve got my eye on you towards him. He wriggled his eyebrows in response, making you snort despite yourself.

Becoming serious for a moment, you said, “But… get home safely, alright?”

Heizou nodded and turned away to make his way down the street. “Will do. I’ll text you when I get back.” You waved a final goodbye, and he waved back with a casual call of, “Love you!”

To your surprise, your heart cinched without warning and heat rushed to your face at the words.

You slapped yourself out of it. Why were you reacting like this? This wasn’t anything new. Heizou said ‘I love you’ often, and you never really questioned it: it was a friend thing, surely. Tons of friends said ‘I love you’ to each other—and as an emotionally open person, why shouldn’t Heizou say it to you, his best friend, as his best friend?

Yet as you watched him go, you lifted your hand again to your cheek and wondered at the curious stutter in your chest as you recalled the brief token of something more he’d pressed to your cheek earlier that night. Electrifying and bright and too short-lived, like a sparkler.

#genshin impact x reader #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #this is half proofread and half not #so sorry about that #but it’s been sitting so long in my drafts that i really wanted to get it out

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satelliteddie · 1 year

Text

love of my life - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: after just barely surviving the upside down, eddie remains in hiding in a hotel room away from hawkins. he’s beginning to go stir crazy when his best friend finally comes to visit him.

content warnings: NSFW (18+) MDNI; smut with plot, idiots in love, mentions of injuries from S4, fix-it fic, (unprotected) piv sex, handjob/fingering, cream-pie, language, pet names, showering together, aftercare

word count: 6.1k sheesh I got carried away

author’s notes: this picks up right where S4 should have ended, with Eddie alive and in hiding ;) ahh he’s so pretty

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

Days seemed to stretch to unbelievable lengths as Eddie stared up at the monotone motel ceiling. He’d come close to counting every crack in the ceiling tiles — since he’d already counted all of them. 56 tiles. 13 have water stains. The group had promised Eddie it would only be a couple of days in this horrible room while they cleared his name. Escaping the Upside Down was nearly impossible as everyone was drained and some wounded. Eddie suffered from near-fatal bites from demo-bats, but once Steve and Dustin dragged him back to Hawkins to meet up with the rest of the group. Through all of it, all that consumed Eddie’s brain was finding you. Nancy, Robin, Dustin and Steve tried to convince him he needed to take care of himself first and hide away before anyone in Hawkins realized he was alive. Stupidly, he agreed to leave without seeing you one more time. It had been two days since then, the cheap motel on the edge of Lafayette, Indiana, was starting to feel like it was shrinking. The take-out boxes, dirty clothes, and cigarettes were beginning to pile up. Steve had gotten the room for Eddie and stayed with him the first day; Robin came the second day with beers in hand and a sympathetic smile. He appreciated both of them coming to see him, but truly Eddie just wanted you. He wanted to hold his best friend and see that she was alright. He wanted to tell you how he really felt, no more worrying about the what-if’s. He could care less about himself and what was going to happen to him…he just needed to know that you would be okay. He needed you. Eddie had been laying on the bed for hours, tossing up a rolled pair of socks at the ceiling. It kept his hands busy while his mind ran off coming up with endless ways for this all to end.

The third day seemed to be the longest so far, the rain pounding against the windows made it hard to tell what time it was. All the time alone, cut off from the outside world and his friends, reminded Eddie too much of the time on the run from the cops and Jason not too long ago. It was all building up in his head, the weight of running and the trauma he’s suffered settling on his shoulders. Even when Steve and Robin came to visit, the tension in his muscles remained and his mind was scattered. Logically everyone knew Eddie couldn’t stay at the hotel using someone else’s name forever, but it was as good as they could do for now to keep him away from Hawkins. The more hours that passed, the more time Eddie had to replay every second of his last week at home. Everything went to shit.

Take a walk on Sunday through the afternoon

We can always find something for us to do

We don't really like what's on the news, but it's on all the time

The muted TV buzzed in the corner of the room, tuned into whatever news channel was clear. Occasionally, news from Hawkins would make it to the mainstream news that was broadcasted here. That’s when Eddie would come face to face with his wanted poster — that now had turned into a ‘presumed dead’ poster. He never liked what was on the news, but it’s on all the time. Eddie’s tosses began to slow, becoming bored with the game he created; he chucked the balled up socks at the wall beside him, the cloth hitting the plaster with a thud. Footsteps splashed their way through the puddles on the outside of the motel room. Eddie shuffled off the bed, ducking behind the mattress to watch the shadows through the hotel curtains. He snatched the tv remote off the bedside table, the closest “weapon” he could find. Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on the room door, watching to see if the knob would move. Steve had told him that someone would be coming today at some point — could he be more vague? Eddie thought as he continued to watch the door. There were only two keys to the room, Eddie had one and the other was passed around the group to come visit. So, logically if the door opened without incident it was a member of the Party. The heavy hotel room door swung open just enough for a petite figure to slip inside, turning to shut and lock it while shaking the rain off their jacket. A black duffel bag fell to the floor near the door, while the figure turned around. The jacket hood slipped down, exposing hair and a face that Eddie knew better than his own.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks slowly rising from his hiding place. You turn to him, the worry in your eyes disappearing to be replaced with warmth. “You’re here,” he says as if the words will convince him you’re not just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m here,” you respond, taking careful steps away from the door. The hotel room is stale, cold, and dim, but when looking at Eddie it feels like you could be on a beach in the Caribbean. He radiates everything good and warm.

Eddie drops the remote from his grasp, fumbling his way around the bed to scoop you into him. He wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you off the ground as you cling around his neck. Three days without seeing each other felt like a lifetime — what you both experienced was enough to last a lifetime anyways. You’re not sure how long you stay with your arms around Eddie’s neck, your fingers combing over his curls. Slowly, Eddie lowers you back to the floor moving his hands away from your waist to hold your face in them. You raise your much smaller hands to lay over top of his on your cheeks. Eddie seems to be bursting at the seams, a smirk stuck on his face and his eyes are the color of the perfect cup of coffee.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, your eyes lingering on the healing gashes on his neck and face.

Eddie’s smirk morphs into a full grin, “yeah, I’m okay now.” He can’t resist the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead, so he presses his lips against your skin. The stress in his muscles dissipates as he holds you close to him, Eddie’s mind is muted and all that remains is his love for you.

I take you with me every time I go away

In a hotel, using someone else's name

I remember back at Jonny's place, it's not the same anymore

Reluctantly, Eddie lets you go to retrieve the duffle from the door. You grab the bag and toss it onto the bed, “I tried to get whatever I could from the trailer.” Laying out the contents across the comforter: Eddie’s D&D campaign notebooks, music tapes and walkman, Lord of the Rings books, old music journals, and any other distractions you could reach — anything from the trailer that would make him feel at home.

“I bought canned foods,” you place the cans on the bedside table. “But I just wanted to bring you some stuff from home too.”

Eddie lingers near the end of the bed, silently reaching and brushing his fingers over the books you brought him. He reaches for a tattered leather journal that held ideas for new Corroded Coffin music. You had spent endless nights in Eddie’s room, sprawled out on the bed watching contently as he scribbled in the pages. He would never let you read the songs, shielding the words from you as he wrote. You would lay with your head in your hands, hoping the songs he wrote were about you. The truth was, most of them were about you — you had slowly become Eddie’s muse. You and Eddie both had fallen into the cliche of best friends who don’t realize they’re both in love, and are too worried to say anything. So the two of you had succumbed to a comfortable rhythm with lingering touches and longing stares. Eddie would constantly think of you whenever you two were apart, especially over these last three days. He replayed moments spent together, the ones only the two of you shared… singing in his room, watching the sunset at Lover’s Lake, creating new campaigns at Skull Rock, and all those other private moments he cherished. He took you with him every time he went away. It didn’t matter how far or for how long.

“I- thank you,” Eddie clutches the journal to his chest, his eyes misty. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He kneels down on the mattress, pushing all of his things closer to him. Eddie rubs a rough hand over his face, sniffling and trying to suppress his tears. His hands shake as he wipes away the tears that manage to escape.

“I’m so sorry Eds,” you sit down on the bed amongst all his things. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh, “you don’t deserve any of this. This isn’t fair to you.”

Eddie sighs and drops his hands to hold yours, his eyes are bloodshot and wet as he looks back at you. “You don’t deserve this either, sweetheart. Yet, here we are.” A bitter laugh comes from him as he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Eddie carried so much guilt along with his own trauma from the last couple of days, he didn’t know how to even begin processing it. Being Eddie’s best friend caused you to be roped into everything. Which meant when Eddie went missing, Max and Dustin’s first stop was at your house. Immediately you believed the children, that you had spent very little time with, but knew they had Eddie’s best interest in mind. That’s when Dustin, Steve, Max, and Robin sat you down to explain just how bad things were going to get for Eddie. Had he not tried to help Chrissy or run off, maybe Eddie could have protected you from the Upside Down and his own personal demise. Over the last three days by himself, Eddie tried to imagine what it would have been like. Maybe he would have been safe and completely clueless of the alternate universe, all with you by his side. Instead now he was sitting on a musty hotel bed, eating out of tin cans while you still cared for him as if nothing had changed. Everything was falling apart around you, even though you trudged on as if the world wasn’t ending and Eddie wasn’t a wanted criminal. He could swear you still looked at him like he hung the moon.

Maybe he was reading things wrong, or maybe he just didn’t care, but Eddie knew he had to tell you how he felt before it was all too late. There were too many close calls in the last week for him to count; each one nudging him closer to confessing his feelings for you like he was written into a Shakespearean Tragedy. Silence had settled in the motel room, you rubbing along Eddie’s knuckles and twisting his rings around his fingers occasionally. Eddie knew you were doing it to calm yourself more than him, but there was something so endearing about the way your hands fit perfectly in his. Eventually after the silence began to stretch, you stood from the bed and started collecting discarded wrappers and cigarette butts. Truly keeping the hotel room clean wouldn’t make a huge difference, but you wanted to try to keep Eddie as comfortable as you could. A clean room, things from home, and your presence was as good as you could do for now.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

“Yknow,” Eddie hesitates, messing with the rings on his fingers and missing the way your hands felt in his. “I’m so in love with you,” he says just above a whisper. You stop your cleaning of the hotel room to look at Eddie. He sits cross-legged on the bed, his shoes tossed aside, denim jeans and Hellfire shirt bunched from his position. You move slowly to the edge of the bed, sinking down to sit near him.

Eddie sniffles, rubbing a hand over his face before continuing, “I- I know it’s not fair to tell you that now. Fuck.” Eddie’s heart slams against his chest, the confession weighing heavy on him. “I wasted so much time in my own head, but then all of this? How could I not tell you…I just love you so much.”

You reach out to rest a hand on his lap, “Eddie-”

“No,” he raises a hand to stop you, his eyes pleading. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret. I just needed you to know you were the love of my life.”

You feel as if your ribs have been cracked open, your heart on full display, “were?”

“I’m still so painfully in love with you,” Eddie looks down at his hands again. “But this is no life for you. Living out of duffle bags and eating cold mush from tin cans. I know the trailer wasn’t much better, but Christ- at least it was a home.”

“Eddie,” you try to speak again. “I don’t care where we are. As long as I’m with you.” You rest your hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb over his jeans. Fear has lingered in Eddie’s eyes for the last few days, but you could swear he’s never looked more scared than he does right now. Your eyes have gone misty as you watch your best friend mumble into his lap, replaying every word he just spoke.

“I think I’ve loved you for longer than I even knew,” Eddie sniffles, twirling a ring around his middle finger. Eddie reaches for his song book from where you placed it on the bedside table, “I didn’t even realize it at first.” He flips through the worn pages once before setting it back down, “I just started thinking about you, then I would write about you. I couldn’t stop. I’m so stupid– fuck. What idiot falls in love with their best friend?”

You know the question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but answer anyway. “I guess that makes me an idiot, too.”

The fear in Eddie’s chocolate eyes melts into what looks like a mixture of hope and admiration. His hand is hesitant as he reaches for the crook of your elbow; you can tell from his movements he wants you closer, but doesn’t want you to run off. You take it upon yourself to raise on your knees, crawling over to him as Eddie keeps his hand on your arm. Eddie uncrosses his legs while he leans back on the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you. You straddle his legs, sitting down on his lap and clasping your hands behind his head. You stroke your fingers through his curls while his breathing remains uneasy. Eddie’s deep brown eyes trail up from your connected waists to find your eyes. Your fingers ghosting over the skin of his neck, your index finger running over the bruised skin near his pulse point. He had nearly died three days ago from injuries from the demo-bats, but he lived and had the scars to prove it. You lean forward and place a gentle kiss on the healing wound, your movements are tender and soft. Every breath you take has matched the rhythm of Eddie’s: slow and nervous.

“Eddie,” you repeat his name again. You take a deep breath, “tell me to stop.”

“No- no,” Eddie jolts, placing his hands on your hips to ground you onto him. “I’ve just- I have thought about this for so long. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You won’t, we won’t. ” you insist, twirling one of his curls around your finger. “I want you Eddie, I always have.”

It's unfortunate

Just coordinates

Eddie lunges forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss feels like the catalyst of the last few years of pining; it's clumsy and wet, but somehow perfect. The cool rings that cover Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as he grips you closer to him. Eddie brushes his tongue against your lips gently causing you to open your mouth with a soft moan.

“Eds–” you mumble against his mouth, but Eddie doesn’t answer. He's too fixated on how you feel against him. The rubbing of your jeans against his, your hands in his hair, your mouth meshed with his. You grind your hips down in a swift circular motion, earning a groan from Eddie. You use the break in the kiss to move your mouth over the stubble on his jaw and down his neck. His skin is warm against your mouth, trailing your lips up to the junction between his jaw and ear. You suck gently, grazing your teeth over his soft skin to mark him. Mine. Your hands still remain tangled in his curls, lightly tugging at the roots while your hips continue to move against him. Eddie’s length swells beneath you, his cock pressing against your warmth as you grind on his jeans.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie pants, squeezing your hips. You pull back from his neck with a grin, tilting your face as you look at him. “Jesus– fuck. We need these off.” Eddie slips his fingers under the seam of your tee shirt, pulling the fabric over your face and tossing it behind you. He traces the edge of your bra with his fingers, the lace tickling your skin as he does. In one swift motion, Eddie flips you onto your back attaching his lips to your newly exposed skin. He trails open mouth kisses down the center of your chest to the edge of your jeans. His cool fingers play with the button on your pants for a moment before he undoes them and ditches the denim behind him on the floor.

“Perfect,” Eddie comments as his eyes scan over your body only left in your underwear. Your cheeks flush, feeling self conscious under his stare. You’ve been in bathing suits, hell even your underwear, in front of Eddie countless times…but this is different. It’s raw, intimate and it’s changing everything. “Look at me, Princess.”

You hesitate to bring your gaze back to Eddie, but when you do his face splits into an even more bashful grin. “You’re so perfect.”

“Eddie,” is all you’re able to say before his mouth meets yours again. Eddie kisses you like he’s trying to make up for lost time while also trying to take things slow enough to memorize them. He moves his lips away from yours to leave sloppy kisses on the base of your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging him away from your skin to get him to look at you.

“You’re wearing too much,” you protest with a smile. Your small hands play with the latch on his belt, urging it open. A deep chuckle comes from Eddie as he watches you try and push his jeans down. He lifts off of you momentarily, which causes you to whine. The noise is so pretty, Eddie is sure he could cum from the sound alone. Leaning back on his knees, Eddie pulls his tee over his head ruffling his curls in the process. You lean forward to brush the hair away from his face, tucking a stray piece behind his ears. Immediately Eddie softens, his cheeks blushing to match yours. Eddie’s flustered under your gaze; he’s never had someone look at him the way you do. You’re giving him the look again where it seems like he hung the moon — and it’s because you do believe it. You just need him to believe it too. Your gentle fingers dip over the lines on his torso, gracing carefully over the bandages clinging to his skin. The soft white gauze covers his side and a few smaller bandages cling to his chest; you knew he was injured, but seeing the wounds for yourself is daunting.

You run a finger over the larger bandage on his left side. Your mind races as you look back at him, “are you sure you’re okay to-”

“Yes,” Eddie replies before you can finish your question. His eyes linger on your hands on his torso. He knows what you’re asking…and logically he should rest and not stress his recovering body. But he’ll be damned if he lets the Upside Down take this moment too.

I don't know you half as well as all my friends

I won't pretend that I've been doing everything I can

To get to know your creases and your ends

Are they the same?

The rest of your clothes and Eddie’s are off in a flash being tossed to the floor without a second thought. Eddie’s hands roam over the soft expanses of your skin, basking in every piece of your body and how it feels under his touch. He tries to memorize this feeling — he’s doing everything he can to get to know your creases, dimples, freckles. Everything. You squirm under him, moving your hands up and down Eddie’s biceps as he traces your skin. He drags his cool rings over the valley between your breasts before cupping your cheek, a smirk still pulling at his lips. Eddie presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth while rolling his hips into yours. A gasp falls from your lips as you feel his length rub against you; Eddie continues to move his hips while you reach between your close bodies. Your hands reach his cock, stroking it once as Eddie moans your name into the crook of your neck. You continue to work your hand over him, pumping at an excruciating pace. Eddie’s hair tickles your neck as he hangs his head, panting from your touch. Subconsciously, you rub your thighs together desperate for any type of friction. Eddie feels you shift under him, trying to relieve the tension building in your cunt. As much as Eddie would love to see you come undone just from touching him and the slow rubbing of your thighs — he can’t have you doing everything on your own. He pushes away from where his hands are gripping the bed sheets to slip between your legs. You moan as Eddie reaches your clit, rubbing slow circles against the bundle of nerves.

“Need, I- I need,” your thoughts are jumbled as Eddie’s fingers work and you continue to palm his length.

“C’mon pretty,” Eddie coos, finally lifting his head away from your neck to look at you. “Tell me what you need. Anything you want, Princess. Name it.”

“I need you, Teddy,” you lock your focus on Eddie’s deep eyes. His hungry and lustful demeanor softens, leaning down to kiss you slow and sweet. His fingers never stop their motions on your folds, but they slow down as Eddie deepens the kiss. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, trying desperately not to smile and break the kiss. Eddie’s heart and mind still can’t keep up with the fact that you’re here. She’s mine, he thinks while finally pulling away. Your eyes roll back as Eddie moves his hand deeper into your folds, curling two digits into your pussy.

“You’re the only person,” Eddie plants more kisses on your collarbone in between his words. “That I’ll- shit- I’ll ever allow to use that name.”

“Yeah?” You ask, moving your hand lower on his bulge to carefully brush your fingertips over his balls.

Eddie groans at your movements, he could burst into your hand right now if you kept touching him like this. “God- fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

You grin at his words and respond with a simple: “show me.”

Eddie shakes his head with a coy smile, pulling his hand away from your center and moving yours away from his length. You simply move your hands from between you to drape them around Eddie’s neck. Eddie lowers himself down to his forearms, brushing his cock against your sensitive bud as he moves. He doesn’t waste time capturing your lips again while he sinks into your cunt, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your eyes have fluttered shut as Eddie continues to nip and kiss your mouth. He’s only half way in, easing himself at a slow pace, “you still with me?”

“No,” you sarcastically quip back. Your eyes are heavy, but you open them to look at Eddie. “Keep going, I’m okay.”

Eddie nods quickly, pushing forward on his forearms; every inch of Eddie’s length sinks into you as he continues to press kisses along your jaw. He stills inside you for a moment as you move your hands carefully around his bandages to grip his back. Eddie rolls his hips panting against your skin as he clings to you; his right hand grips the cheap hotel sheets while his left presses into the dip of your thigh. Definitely creating a bruise. Eddie finds his rhythm quickly, every inch of his skin slapping against yours as he thrusts in and out of you. You moan into his shoulder, gripping his back and pulling his hips closer with your legs. Eddie hangs his head near your chest, licking and gently biting at your nipples. He glances down between your two bodies to watch where you’re connected; he wants to see what’s his. Eddie moans as he sees his own cock disappear into your wet walls, sliding in and out with ease.

“Jesus H–” Eddie curses, stuck in a trance as he continues to watch. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Eddie,” you pant, placing wet kisses on his broad shoulder. “Eddie, I meant what I said–”

Your mind is complete mush as he relentlessly pounds into you, but you know you have to tell him. You have to make sure he knows.

“What?” He lifts his head from where it's been hanging on your chest. His dark brown eyes roam over your face, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you. “I-” you struggle to find your words as your core pulses over Eddie’s cock. You clench your walls around him and Eddie stifles a moan into your chest, hanging his head down again. His hips slam into you, never letting up as the two of you grow closer to your climax. “Eddie,” you urge him to look at you again. “I love you.”

“Oh god,” Eddie growls, surging forward to capture your mouth with his. His lips melt into yours like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Your moans continue to break through the kiss, but Eddie isn’t phased in the slightest. He kisses you like a man possessed as his hips continue to thrust into you. Mindlessly, you clench your soft walls around Eddie’s length again just as your fingers scrape against the toned muscles of his back. Eddie pulls away from your mouth with a sloppy, wet smile, “Fuck- I love you.”

You feel your core tighten at his words, Eddie’s cock pulsing inside of you, both of you nearing release. You feel like you’re melting into the sheets, Eddie’s slick body shaking above you as his mouth hangs open. Eddie’s hips have fallen into a hurried pace, chasing his high while you fall apart under him. You trail your fingers away from his sides, gripping the roots of Eddie’s curls near the nape of his neck. “I love you,” you repeat the words to Eddie, feeling your climax approaching fast. Eddie continues to fuck you with every ounce of him, moaning over and over as you come undone. Your eyes roll back as you pulse around Eddie, falling limp on the sheets with shaky legs. Eddie keeps his pace throughout your high, riding you through it.

“Teddy,” you mumble in a haze. Your vision clears as you reach for his jawline, stroking your thumb over his plush lips. “Come for me, please. Need to feel you.” You beg as if you're asking for your own orgasm; you just need to see Eddie while he spills into you. His lips parted, pupils blown, hair matted to his skin from sweat, the bandages on his body contrasting his warm skin. Yet, he’s never looked more perfect than he does right now.

“Shit- shit,” Eddie curses, his hips snapping once more into your dripping cunt before he releases himself into you. Eddie cums harder than he ever has, collapsing down onto your chest muttering: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair softly, moving away his sweaty bangs to press a kiss to his forehead. Your chests stick together as you try to sync your breathing; Eddie continues to mumble sweet praises into your skin, pressing kisses on any part he can reach. Reluctantly, Eddie leans away from you pulling out his softening length as you whine from the loss of contact. He sits back on his knees, “holy shit.” Eddie watches your puffy clit and folds clench, his cum dripping from you while mixed with your own arousal. You whine again as Eddie lifts off the bed, leaving you overstimulated and fucked-out.

“No-” you pout, opening your eyes slowly.

“I know, sweetheart. Give me a second, I’m coming right back.”

Eddie walks away from the bed, his naked body is blurry as your eyes struggle to stay open. Moments later, the bed dips as Eddie scoops his arms under you, lifting you off the sheets and carrying you to the small hotel bathroom. The lull of running water fills the room, fog building up inside the bathroom. Eddie presses a small kiss to your hairline before setting you down on the bathmat near the shower. A comfortable silence falls between you and Eddie, he steps under the shower offering his hand to you. You smile and grab his hand, holding onto him as you both stand under the spray. Eddie takes his time rinsing you off, washing your hair and body; his touches are slow, but purposeful. You turn in Eddie’s arms as he finishes your hair, looking up at him as water droplets catch on your eyelashes.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you trace the edge of his large bandage on his ribs, carefully pulling away the padding. Using a feather-light touch, you pull off the other gauze pads and gently rinse Eddie’s healing sides. He hisses as the water splashes some of the sore spots, gripping your arm for balance.

“Sorry-” he stutters, turning his gaze down to the tub floor.

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Eddie's timid eyes find yours again as he watches you clean and care for each of his wounds. You use your cupped hands to run the water over his skin, trying to avoid any unnecessary pain. After a few more minutes, Eddie turns the water off and opens the shower curtain. The bathroom is filled with so much steam you can barely see two feet in front of you. Eddie reaches for a towel, draping it over your shoulders and poking your nose. You scrunch the tip of your nose, sticking out your tongue as he smirks.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

You tend to each of Eddie’s injuries with cautious movements and extra care. He finally gave in and sat down on the toilet, his towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Occasionally, you have him lift his arms to get a better look at the healing scars before covering them with clean bandages. It only takes a couple of minutes to replace them all and cover each with ointments, but Eddie feels like his mind is slowing down every moment with you — he wants to savor every second before you have to leave him again. He didn’t want to leave you behind, but he had no choice. Just like you had no choice but to keep him far away from Hawkins. Eddie’s eyes are heavy by the time you finish patching him up, he nearly falls forward half asleep. He’s been on the run for so long at this point that he hasn’t had a moment to truly rest. His nights have been sleepless and nightmare filled; his days are full of his face on the news, and horrifying updates on everything and everyone in his hometown. Yet, as soon as you came through his doorway today he felt like he could finally breathe. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s been staring into space until you wave a slow hand in front of him, “Eddie?”

“Tired,” is all he manages to say before rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. You offer him a weak smile and tug him out of the bathroom. Eddie plops down on the bed, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips; his happy trail even more visible as Eddie dramatically stretches. You press a quick kiss to the pudge of his lower belly, butterflies erupting in his chest as you continue to act so tenderly. He opens his eyes again to find you offering him a clean pair of boxers. After a second of contemplation, Eddie takes the clothes and slips them on before crawling under the covers. He lays sprawled on his back, left arm tucked under his head while the right stays wide open, inviting you in. You slip under the comforter with him, nuzzling into his side without any hesitation. Eddie tries not to stare too long at the fact that you’re finally wearing his shirt. He had foolishly dreamt of the day you would wear his clothes, and not just in a best friend-in-need-of-clothes-way. But rather in a domestic, romantic sense that makes Eddie all fuzzy inside.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Eddie confesses, staring down at you. You’ve successfully curled yourself into his side, getting as close as humanly possible.

Your small fingers trace shapes onto the tattooed portions of Eddie’s skin, “I don’t either.”

“Wish we could just run away from this fucking town.”

“Me too,” you admit, but quickly feel the guilt. “We just can’t leave them.” You press a kiss to the side of his ribs, just above the bandage.

Eddie doesn’t respond because he knows you’re right, but he just wishes for once he could run and it would be for a good reason… to save you. His fingers start to mimic the shapes you’ve made on his skin as Eddie runs his hands up and down your back.

“As soon as we know everyone is safe, we’ll run,” you promise, resting your chin on his chest to fully look at him. Eddie nods, his eyes feeling heavy once again and his body finally feeling peace.

“Rest baby,” you say just as Eddie starts to let the sleep take over. “Go to sleep and we’ll run away in the morning.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Eddie mumbles with his eyes still shut.

“You didn’t ask me,” you remind him. “I offered.”

You press one more kiss to the sensitive scar near his pulse point on his neck before settling into his side. You’re not sure if you will run away in the morning, or at all, but if it’ll get Eddie to finally rest you’ll tell him whatever you can. The world around you is so unsure and dangerous that it doesn’t matter what your plans are for the next day — it could all change in an instant. So instead of worrying about plans, monsters, or alternate universes, you enjoy this moment.

Eddie mutters a quick and quiet: “I love you” before he finally slips into a peaceful rest, feeling safe and content with you tucked into his side. You smile up at him even though he’s already asleep before you answer.

“You’ve always been the love of my life, Eddie.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

ahhh the last of the harrys house series :( thank you all for the love on these, its been so amazing to see everyone’s reactions to all of them xx

to find the rest of the series click here

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-meg

#eddie munson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fics #st x harrys house #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things x you

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spookykoolkat · 8 months

Text

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

series masterlist | main masterlist |

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pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

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DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case.

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much.

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you.

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on.

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up.

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional.

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was.

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was.

at least you thought so.

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joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others.

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you.

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got.

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that.

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor.

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls.

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie.

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it.

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door.

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked.

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though.

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers.

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive.

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy.

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in.

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head.

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional.

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32.

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did.

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket.

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room.

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him.

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest.

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs.

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him.

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before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him.

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him.

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right.

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome.

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone.

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you.

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee.

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel.

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it.

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help.

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet.

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty.

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh.

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?”

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he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside.

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open.

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him.

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt.

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you.

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man.

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you.

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you.

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire.

“touch me, please.”

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much.

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used.

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed.

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door.

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up.

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off.

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that.

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed.

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you.

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe.

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties.

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink.

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas.

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room.

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?”

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.”

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either.

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants.

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager.

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied.

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier.

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself.

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only.

“smart girl,”

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in.

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him.

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous.

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.”

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip.

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry.

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this.

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,”

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him.

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course, but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you.

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking.

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties.

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants.

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing.

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled.

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off.

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere.

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her?

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up.

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space.

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case.

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon.

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

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theriu · 10 months

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Interpreting Bilbo’s Speech

As an editor whose job requires the ability to untangle confusing sentences, I maintain that Bilbo’s speech at his 111th birthday party was actually genuine and complimentary. Let’s break this down.

“Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

“I don’t know half of you as well as I should like” can be translated as “Half of you are people I don’t know as well as I wish I did. I wish I knew you at least half again as much as I do.” Literally, “I wish I’d gotten to know you better.”

“I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” He may not have a deep affection for this less-than-50% of the party-goers, but he acknowledges that they deserve twice as much respect and appreciation as what he gave them during their acquaintance. Literally, “I know there’s more to be appreciated about you than I knew of or that I am capable of appreciating.”

Note: Since he clearly knows THIS half well enough to know they deserve more of his respect and affection than what he gave them, we are probably safe to presume that they are the opposite half from the first group, who he wishes he had gotten to know better. (Although there is probably some crossover). (This part gets into Math a little bit, which is NOT my specialty as an editor.)

So, if we take his first sentence literally—“Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits”—then the whole statement is actually quite genuine. For all his grumbling and muttering about his various neighbors’ and relations’ failings or annoyances, Bilbo really does respect and admire many of them, and he is wise enough to know that there’s more to appreciate in the people he doesn’t care for or didn’t know well than he has managed to discover in his short lifetime with them.

But of course this is Bilbo, so he wrapped it up in a mind-bending riddle and left everyone wondering if they’d been insulted before he abruptly vanished, leaving the party in chaos.

In conclusion: Bilbo’s way of handling the awkwardness of being sincere to a large group of people involves tying his compliments into a knot and then running away forever while they’re distracted untangling it.

I’m not saying this is the healthiest way of dealing with the mortifying ordeal of being known, but it does feel very Bilbo.

#lotr #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #literary analysis #movie analysis #I can't remember if this speech is in the books or not #but anyway #I also know he's much better at sharing his feelings with close friends #so this is probably mostly because he was talking to a huge crowd of people he didn't know as well as his close personal friends #and because he's a tricksy little hobbit #anyway my logic might miss a couple points so feel free to point out your own interpretations!#it was definitely a confusing speech XD

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statementlou · 25 days

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my post yesterday about why I don't really care if Louis Tomlinson supports starbucks shocked me by actually circulating and getting notes and obviously I like validation and appreciation.... but I feel kind of weird about my big contribution to the topic being something that might come off as discouraging attempts to help Palestine. Feeling powerless in the face of such injustice is horrible and scary and traumatizing and while there are certain things that I do not think make much difference (like boycotting irrelevant targets), that's NOT how I feel about the situation in general! We CAN make a difference and help the Palestinian people! It can feel impossible to fight against all that power and propaganda and military might- but it has been done successfully over and over, colonialism has been destroyed in one place after another a hundred times in the last century, apartheid regimes have fallen, occupations have ended, because over and over, always, even all the military might in the literal world is less powerful than a united front of the PEOPLE. As Ursula K LeGuin said, "We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings", and as Louis Tomlinson said "The power and magic comes from the people, you guys. Don't undermine your role in all of this" and "get off the 'gram and into the streets"!

Under the cut are things you can do that I believe actually directly impact the Palestinian people and the Israeli government, including some easy ones, and the key to a successful movement is to have every type of contribution, to have NUMBERS. However- it is also necessary to have people willing to do the actual work of fighting injustice, not just changing their consumer habits or yelling at people online. I strongly encourage people to explore becoming physically involved in activist work, and not to see it as yet another tiring obligation but rather as a way to help yourself feel less overwhelmed and exhausted. Feeling powerless and defenseless is a trauma that follows us into every corner of our lives, but standing up and working for change can not only save lives, but is good for your own mental health as well, I promise.

I can't make you an exhaustive list of resources, only tell you some tactics that I believe are actually useful. I'm not an expert or whatever, but I have been actively involved in social justice advocacy, activism, and direct action for over 20 years and am drawing on that history of both things that worked and were great and things that were not from my personal experiences. Thank you to @captainrayzizuniverse for helping me (but she didn't see the post any stupid things said by mistake are entirely on me), and especially for pointing out a big (typical white person) slip up, which was to almost forget the very first item on this list: Listen to, support, and amplify Palestinian voices!!! The whole starbucks issue wouldn't even exist if people just went by this single important guideline and did the things Palestinians were asking for rather than making up other things to do instead. In life altogether, and speaking as a disabled person god does this come up a lot: if you want to help someone, start by asking them what they need and then do that even if it isn't what you think they should want. Don't fucking wing it!! Join local groups organizing for Palestine: the people united are powerful, but only if they are united and working in large groups! Join a group! This is hard because... how? who? And I can't answer that for everyone but I can tell you that in the US JVP (Jewish Voice for Peace) is doing a huge amount of very accessible recruiting, you can just join (you don't need to be Jewish) and get involved straightaway in the great actions they're putting on. PYM (Palestinian Youth Movement) is not open to everyone to join but you should definitely follow them on SM to keep up on actions and maybe find ways to support. If you're a student I bet there is some kind of group at your school?

Go to protests: protest works, period. The general politician rule of thumb is that anyone who bothers to actually go out and march represents 10-100 voters. When they look at the numbers (like- '500-1000 people protested the most recent bill you signed') they do this math and they worry. But also honestly if it's something you can manage- it's good for you. It helps. Even if you just go alone and don't talk to anyone, being in a crowd of hundreds of people feeling the same things you are, caring as much as you do, it helps. If you can, yell along to the chants as loud as you can. Get fired up and use that energy to keep going and not despair!

Call and write officials: if you live in the US or UK this is HUGE. What I said above about how they count people at protests as standing for more people who didn't bother but agree? Same with phone calls for sure, it REALLY pressures them. Many orgs make this really easy- I get emails all the time with links to send a letter in a single click or click to call and all you have to do is read the script, get on some lists I guess? But many sites also have this feature, JVP does for example

Support BDS: the Palestinian led BDS have been doing the work of isolating and chipping away at Israel for 19 years and like I said, the actions of the masses only work if we are united behind a few strategic targets rather than all over the place; they have made this possible. It's good to avoid buying from the companies they target; even better to work on the big divestment campaigns. For example, student groups pressuring the big universities to divest from BDS targets echo the successful University divestment efforts that helped end apartheid in South Africa.

Send money: money helps, immediately and concretely, and again if we are many, each person doesn't have to do a lot. Do what you can spare, it all adds up. This has been painful with Gaza for sure, with millions donating but aid being blocked. I don't have The Answer but here's a group I found that actually seems to be getting aid in, and here's a spread sheet of gofundmes- note that people who have foreign passports do not have to pay the horrible border crossing fees, so you may wish to focus on funding those who don't have that privilege. this could maybe be better and there was some other stuff I wanted to say about doing activism to tie up the "activism as self care" thing from above and also bringing it back around to talk about Louis more but I'm tired and I'm hungry right now and this is a lot already. So. Bye lol sorry. send me asks if any of that is something you care about or want to hear

#yes the first Louis quote is kind of just me being silly I know he was referring to live music... but also he SAID IT #and those words have power regardless of the context and I believe it is an ethos he believes in #and the second thing is literally something he posted from an actual protest. my guy!! 🥰#palestine #blah blah blah #starbucks discourse

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apollos-olives · 4 months

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question about hamas - so, i fully support hamas' actions of liberation against israel, whatever they might be. however i feel like i can't fully support hamas, and the only reason is bc i heard they're harmful as a governing body to the palestinians in gaza. for example hamas building unnecessary expensive luxury mosques even though most gazans were against money used for that. like any other unideal goverment that can be corrupt. it would be rlly nice to hear ur opinion on the matter bc you seem to be rlly knowledgeable, and hear if I'm actually completely off the mark lol. thank you and have a pleasant week.

i mean, to be completely honest, i don't really care about hamas. and honestly if anyone thinks this whole thing is still about hamas and not about israel committing as many atrocities as possible, then tbh they're extremely ignorant. not to say you're ignorant, anon, and your ask is totally understandable, it's just i really don't care about hamas. i support them as a freedom fighter group, but other than that i don't pay attention to them or what they do. obviously most governments around the middle east are extremely corrupt, but i don't keep up with what hamas does. i'm sure it's done things that gazans haven't liked and it's done things that gazans have liked, but it's not like any other government doesn't do that either. holding hamas to a higher standard than other governments who do the exact same thing is... well that's not great, tbh. is hamas perfect? no ofc not. but just because they've done unfavorable things doesn't mean they should be condemned more than any other sort of government in the world who has done unfavorable things as well. either condemn them all or condemn none of them. and i lean on the side of "condemn them all", but currently i'm not focused on that. i'm not focused on hamas, i'm focused on saving palestine first. we can deal with hamas and dismantling the corruption within the entirety of palestine later, but we need to pay more attention to saving palestinian lives and dismantling israel as a genocidal illegal settler colonial state. our first priority is supporting groups and fighters who are challenging the illegal settler state, even when it includes hamas. if we take too much time "umm"-ing and "err"-ing over whether or not we should support hamas over one of their actions vs another, we're never going to get anywhere.

and honestly? you don't have to support hamas as a whole. many palestinians have controversial opinions over hamas. my parents hate them to bits but they still appreciate that they're fighting for us. i like them and support their goals to liberate palestine, but in general i don't care about or for them on anything else. palestinians have different opinions and that's totally fine. so it's okay if you don't support hamas as a group and as a whole because of it's policies or beliefs. as long as you are standing with palestine and standing with our freedom fighters, you're fine. no one is gonna judge you.

but i'd recommend to not focus on hamas or let people know your opinions about them, because that's not the priority. the priority is to free palestine. we need to stop talking about hamas so much and focus on helping those who are suffering. if we keep things focused on hamas, we are going to distract ourselves from our goals. israel WANTS you to keep talking about hamas. israel WANTS you to question their policies and actions. israel WANTS you to take time away from focusing on those in need to focus on something less important. that's why i hardly even talk about hamas on my blog. because it's not about hamas. it's about a free palestine.

i hope this helps. also, could you link me some of the info about hamas and the whole mosque thing?? or anything else you're not sure about? i'd like to read up on things like that, and make sure that isn't fake news or propaganda, because i personally have never heard of anything like that. thank you

#palestine #free palestine

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hoe4rairai · 4 months

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Raian with Friends & Family 👥️

Requested by @aneenasevla

▪︎ let's be honest, Raian doesn't have friends. His feral nature, type of life he is leading and the lack of emotional and social intelligence. He knows one thing only, how to kill and destroy

▪︎ Fast forward, he's now around 27/28 I guess so I hope after his Grandpa's death he'd become little grounded and tasted how it feels like to loose someone he secretly cared for.

▪︎We also established that Raian is an Introvert mostly, so connecting with ppl other than those who prepare his missions at the back office isn't a habit of his.

▪︎ Raian, only considered one person to connect with and that was Ohma and still is. Not out of appreciation per se, but out of inner respect and as a kure, it runs in their tradition to respect strong challenging opponents.

▪︎Raian and Ohma, are mostly training together, yes they do have side conversations, tease each other. Raian mainly pick at Ohma and give him hard time.

▪︎ Will Raian ever be loyal to Ohma ? the answer is yes and no.

▪︎ Raian is an assassin from a ruthless clan his loyalty will always be to the clan #1 any one else can die or go to hell he couldn't care less.

▪︎With Ohma, apparently his only acquaintance, he will consider being there for if needed or if he felt its needed. Anything related to destroying count him in.

▪︎ Raian is possessive and the jealous type, so If ohma has another group of ppl he would hang out with or a GF , Raian will hate it and will make sure he'll speak filthy about them, make trouble and cause inconvenience to anyone . That was few years back

▪︎ Raian now, has a huge responsibility on his shoulder that even his friendship with Ohma is on a stop-loss till he get his revenge.

▪︎Raian knows Ohma is there for him and the clan because they allowed him to live among them and be part of them,however; he is very distant now, training non stop , have no time and had grow bit mature, so I hope .

▪︎ In Festival seasons, Raian would occasionally enjoy some Saki or beer pints with the clan , the firework, he's not a fun killer. Few years back he would had ended with fights after each and every celebration just for fun, now he is hardly ever seen socialising at all.

▪︎ Fusui his sister, she is probably the only one who has full access to him. Knows his moods and his where abouts, his missions and she does check on him every now and then. He sometimes answers with a ( F*ck off ) or keep her on read and send her the middle finger emoji , his way of telling her he's in an ok mood or doing fine.

▪︎ the time he didn't respond with 24hrs, Fusui gets worried. Listen guys, Raian is an Asshole we all know that but he's a rare treasure to the clan and he's a big ass stupid idiot trouble maker baby who might be going through hard time after grandpa got killed. I feel he's been in an inner conflict for some time now.

▪︎ Raian will either mature or becomes a nightmare unstoppable and unattainable.

▪︎ I Hear you asking about his parents: not sure but I think they dropped his case with his first ever kill. They don't hate him they just believe and certain that Raian is war God and they probably just like the rest of the clan members, know he'd destroy anyone who'd try to speak up or trade the Clan secrets or jeopardise their Safety. THAT RAIAN NO ONE SHOULD SEE .. lucifer himself will dethrone himself and run straight to hell saving his ass from Raian.

RAIAN & Gifts 🎁:

▪︎ He basically rips the cute nice ribbon apart , has an annoying look on his face, without much though given to the gift he picks it up from the box look at it : ( WDF IS THIS ) no thank you and no consideration. Just throws it away in hopes he'll use it one day.

▪︎ At school , Raian had few crushes but he crushed them back quite literally when the girl used to approach him shyly with his birthday gift but instead he slams her to the wall push her with his body, lift her skirt teasing her, grab the gift , opening it fast, looking at it , through to the ground , laughing at her crying face and walk away. Still for some reason girls at school liked him a lot ...

▪︎ fast forward, the only one who gives him gifts is YEP YOU GUESSED IT FUSUI ...

▪︎she buys him gifts everytime she goes on a mission, expensive perfumes, showr gels, expensive knives sometime, she gets him a branded trainer, she knows his size.

▪︎ Did he ever got her anything ? The answer is

NO NO NO

▪︎instead he always gives her his Credit Card .. that's what he does for her and she's okay with it.

▪︎ Raian as an assassin he earns so much more than her .

▪︎ Surprisingly though; I think Raian do have great taste , basic, clean with a twist. He never shops he only goes online to certain stores picks something he likes throw it at his sister face and still calling her a bitch 🤣

▪︎ Christmas and Gifts : let's not be delulus , Raian purposely choose a mission to get away from all the gatherings that annoys the shit of him.

▪︎ he comes back and he has gifts laying on his bed, he secretly gets excited and has a tiny little smile.

▪︎ he would probably receive a gift from Fusui, Holies, karura, the school girl crush who still with a hope and I guess few more from the close clan relatives, his mom will try to hug him but Lord his eyes and the way he'd look at her sents her back to her seat ...

I hope you enjoyed it 🤗😚

#kenganverse #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kengan ashura imagines #raian kure #kure raian #ohma tokita #tokita ohma #the devil

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sitepathos · 1 year

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141 Boys + Alejandro + Konig x Male Hogwarts Student Reader Headcanons (Platonic)

Disclaimer : before we go any further, keep in mind this is my very first post on Tumblr. At first, I was just thinking about asking another user to write this, but I fell in love with the idea so much that it kept buzzing around in my head and now here we are.

Context: a group of pro-Muggle witches and wizards were able to get the Ministry of Magic to approve a program that would open up more to the outside world and start building a relationship with its people. You, being a Muggle-born, were asked to be the first “envoy” of this new program, seeing how Muggles would react to the Wizarding World and if mutual trust could be established. But, since the Ministry is run by a bag of dicks, they decided that you would be sent to the military, hoping this program would die in its infancy. After some debating behind closed doors, representatives from the Ministry and the SAS decided you would be trusted to Task Force 141.

Price

This man is less concerned about you being a wizard and more about you being a minor. “No, I don’t care if he’s almost eighteen, he shouldn’t be here!”

Was almost ready to throat punch Shepherd when Laswell stopped him and he reluctantly agreed to keep you on base.

Of course, when you showed off your magic for the first time, he was amazed for sure. And if you’re a skilled potioneer, he appreciates you brewing dozens of Wiggenweld Potions for the team. “Those potions are great! They work like… well, magic!”

Also, if you could use your potion making skills to mix up a drink for him, he’d really appreciate it. Being in the military, he has to forgo all comfort and luxury, but this man DESERVES a good drink on a regular basis! He’s in charge of one of the world’s most deadly fighting forces and is constantly dealing with terrorists and death everyday, so I’d say he should get a bottle of the good stuff. Low key would let you share a drink with him in his office if you do.

He also appreciates you casting the Bandaging Charm whenever they get hurt. As much as he hates you being in the field, he has to admit you make an effective field medic.

He’ll also ask your help in recon if you’re an Animagus. As a bird, you can be outfitted with a camera and get a literal bird’s eye view of the AO and as a cat/dog, you can go right up to the enemy and distract them. As they’re scratching your fluffy belly, Ghost will knife them.

And if you can turn into a cat, he may or may not ask you to sit on his lap while he sits in his office chair. Whenever a rookie is brought in for insubordination, he loves to do the Dr. Evil chair spin and freak them out. He’s very stressed out from all these missions and needs some comic relief! Plus, he loves to scratch you behind the ear and you love it too.

He also scares the rookies that if they don’t listen, you’ll turn them into a frog or something. Of course, you never tell him you can actually do that. Don’t want to give him any ideas.

Will also appreciate your help in interrogations. Give the perp some Veritaserum and the interrogation is over in like 5 minutes. Low key, though, Ghost is a bit pissed because they always let him conduct the interrogations, and now they can just get all their questions answered because of some juice you made.

He also makes sure you keep in regular contact with not only Dumbledore, but your parents as well, says that he’d be worried if his (minor) son was placed in the hands of the military. “They worry about you and I’m sure they just want to make sure you’re alright, son.” Low key goes behind you back and arranges for regular meetings (tea times) with both your parents and Dumbledore to discuss how you’re keeping up with your studies and assuring them that he’s keeping a close eye on you and making sure you take care of yourself. After a while, he comes to see you as another member son of Task Force 141.

Gaz

Look, he freaks out a bit when you show off your magic for the first time, and you understand. The first time you did magic, you accidentally levitated the family dog. Thankfully, you were inside at the time, so Fido just hit the roof.

For a while, things were awkward between you, but after you bandaged him up after a sparring session, he started to open up to you.

Meaning, he began asking you all sorts of questions about the Wizarding World to see if any of the fairytales he was told as a kid were real.

“You don’t really fly on broomsticks, right? I mean, that’s just ridiculous.” “Well…”

As soon as you roll up on you Nimbus 2000, this man WILL ask for a ride, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and you cave almost immediately. During his first ride, he was TERRIFIED; I mean, he’s a hundred feet up in the air sitting on a flimsy piece of wood, of course he’d be scared and holding on to you tightly.

But, after that first ride, he’ll beg you for a ride every time you both have free time. He’s flown in dozens of helicopters in his life, but feeling the wind against his skin and maneuvering around the way you do gives him a thrill unlike any other. Seriously, as soon as he gets back from a mission, he’ll go straight to you and beg to go out flying with you. Doesn’t matter if it was a week long mission and he’s had to go without food and sleep for most of that time, the thought of flying with you on your broomstick was enough to keep him going.

He also loves it when you teach him all that you learned in History of Magic; unlike Professor Binns, you do everything you can to make your lessons interesting. You use magic, you act out certain events, you even give him chocolate frogs when he passes you pop quizzes. PS: please give this man magic sweets, he always gives the biggest grin when he sees you walking towards him while holding candy. He likes chocolate frogs the best since he’s building his collection of cards. (He just needs a Dumbledore card…)

He also loves to hear about your time at Hogwarts. This man wants to know everything that happened to you, from the Sorting Ceremony to when you were made the first Muggle Envoy. He also doesn’t understand why House Slytherin hasn’t been disbanded. “I understand not every Slytherin is bad, but most of the worst wizards have come from that house! And its founder kept a giant snake around to kill anyone not a pureblood!”

He thinks you being an Animagus is amazing and if you turn into a bird, he’s both astounded and jealous. “I want to fly in the sky as a bird, too…” and if you’re a cat, well… “I heard all cats love curling up in a box. As a cat, do you have those feelings, too?” “…Yes.” So, best boi Gaz shows up to your quarters with a large cardboard box with multiple blankets and you instantly take to it. Like, you forget all about your bed and sleep as a cat in that box. And you don’t know it, but he one time came into your room to ask you to go flying when he saw you curled up in the box (and in human form, no less!) and his heart melted at the sight. He also took several pictures which he then proceeded to drop in the 141 Group Chat. Needless to say, they were quickly printed out and is the highest kept secret from you (hell, even Laswell is in on it).

In conclusion, Gaz would be very welcoming to you in the beginning, but in all honesty, probably not as much as Soap.

Ghost

Look, when you met Ghost for the first time, you were scared out of your mind and 95% sure he was a Death Eater sent to kill you and ruin this program. But, after a few days, you figured out that he was just a Muggle and you relaxed a little bit. Still, you kept your distance as this 6’2” man still scared the hell out of you.

When Price told them that a wizard was joining the 141, he thought the man finally lost it after postponing a well deserved vacation for far too long. But, after seeing you cast a spell when you first joined the team, he quickly ripped up the anonymous note he wrote to Laswell to force the Captain to take a vacation.

When you started talking to him about the Wizarding World, he quickly took an interest in magical creatures. Look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn’t be fawning over a Thestral! That’s actually how you bonded with him— when he saw you caring for one, he asked about it and when he learned that they’re only visible to those who’ve seen death and are misunderstood to be a bad omen. He feels for the beast and offers to help you feed it when you’re ever unavailable.

Like Price, he hates you being in the field, but definitely sees the advantages to having a skilled wizard with them. He will, however, insist you stay behind them, casting healing and support spells. During one mission, all hostile were thought to have been killed, but one that remained tried to shoot him in the back, you quickly cast Protego to shield him and followed up with Petrificus Totalus. No matter what Soap says, he DID NOT have heart eyes when you did that.

As odd an experience as it is, he loves to Apparate from place to place. A helo attracts too much attention and riding a broomstick is just silly to him (look, he’s a 6’ 2” killing machine made of pure muscle and whose name strikes fear into the most hardened terrorist on the planet; him being on a broomstick ruins his streetcred!). Being able to appear anywhere out of thin air poses a strategic advantage, it bypasses all

He also takes interest in your Defense of the Dark Arts lessons. He’ll watch you practice offensive spells all day long, praising you every time you destroy a target. He also teaches you to handle a firearm and how to throw a knife. Sure, you can use magic, but use magic, but you its always good to know other skills. He really wanted to just spend some more time with you and teach you what he knows.

Will definitely help you practice your defensive spells if you ask him, but he’s very nervous as he fires rubber bullets at you. As much as he tries to argue with you, you’re persistent and finally does what you ask him. But if you’re ever hit by one, that’s an end to practice for the day and he’s dragging you to the infirmary.

Also, as much as he denies it, he loves it when you turn into your Animagus form. If you turn into a bird, he offers his arm as a perch when you return from stretching your wings; if you turn into a dog, we will give you the best belly rubs; and if you turn into a cat, we will hold you and scratch your ears. And he’ll do it anywhere, even during a mission briefing! Also, he gets very jealous when you’re held by anyone else and will fight to the death when someone tries to take you away from him. “Lt, it’s my turn to hold him!” “Negative, Sergeant.” He then proceeds to scratch your ears as he looks Soap right in the eye.

While not an alcoholic beverage, he loves butterbeer and always loves it when you bring back a keg from the Wizarding World. After a successful mission, you brought them to the Three Broomsticks for a fresh mug of butterbeer. He knows you had to jump through a lot of hoops to get this trip approved and appreciates you arranging for this. It’s here that he realizes that not everyone in your world is like you; some uppity witch mocks you for bringing them here and leaves as she calls you a “Mudblood,” which you later explain is a derogatory term used to make people like you feel less than them. Well, Ghost being Ghost, he slips out to teach that witch that being whether your pedigree means nothing when your fingers are broken and you can’t hold a wand, you’re weaker than a Muggle since you depend on you magic for everything, leaving you vulnerable. “Ghost, where’d you go?” “Just needed to take a break.”

He loves to harass you with terrible puns as he learns more of you world. “Wanna hear a joke?” “Ghost, please don’t.” “If a wizard gets robbed by a Muggle, has he been Muggled?” “What do you call a postman who can speak to packages? A parcel tongue.” Or the worst of them, “How does the head of Gryffindor see when swimming? She uses McGonagoggles.”

After a while, he finally trusts you enough to tell you some of his darkest secrets. What really hits you the most is what happened in the US-Mexico border with Roba, and how he was buried alive with a rotten corpse and forced to dig himself out with said corpse’s jawbone. After he finished his story, you offered to use the Memory Charm to make him forget, and for a brief moment, he genuinely wanted to say yes. The thought of being able to forget that horrible memory and never dream of it was enough to bring tears to his eyes (which he thought was no longer possible), but in the end, he said he appreciated the offer, but by forgetting what happened, he’d be losing a piece of himself that made him him.

You become a part of his team, and when you do, he’ll kill and die for you, just as he would for any other member of his team. Eventually, he gives you the nickname “Merlin,” and soon everyone starts calling you that and you’re honored to have a nickname after one of the most accomplished wizards.

Soap

While his team lost their collective minds when they first met you, Soap tripped the mightiest of balls and turned into a literal child when you demonstrated your magic. Also, the moment you tell them Hogwarts is located in Scotland, he turns very smug and brags about his homeland being the superior place on Earth. Of course, you eventually explained that there are magic schools all over the world, which broke his heart, but he quickly got over it when you explained Hogwarts’ very distinguished history.

You think I’m joking when I say everything you do amazes this man, but I’m not. After you showed up on your broomstick and gave Gaz a ride on it, he practically ripped the poor man off it and called dibs for the next ride; you show him a few Transfiguration spells, and he’ll ask you to turn everything on base into something else (Price had to step in when he had you turn his favorite hat into a goose and you two had to chase it down);you pull out a caldran and start brewing potions, he will sit and watch you every step of the way (and if you ever brew a potion of fire-breathing, he’ll beg you to let him drink it, he so wants to chase Gaz, pretending to be a dragon).

And speaking of dragons, he made a joke about dragons being fake and when he saw you not laughing, he instantly knew they were real and instantly starting begging you to take him to see one. Of course you told him that dragons are dangerous creatures and are kept far from society, he gave you the biggest put possible and of course you caved and reached out to a friend who worked at the Romanian Dragon Reserve, who was able to sneak you in. As soon as he saw the Common Welsh Green, he acted like a kid who finally got to Disney World and when you got back, he thanked you profusely and you two started hanging out every day.

This dude dedicates almost half his journal to you, writing down everything he learns about you, Hogwarts, and the Wizarding World at large. He’ll also draw picture after picture after picture; he’ll draw you, your wand, you casting spells, your house crest, etc. He also jots down his thoughts about your and your world and questions to ask you later. Ex: ask Y/N to cast Windgardium Leviosa on me while riding the mop used for latrine duty. Note to self: do it where the Captain/Lt can’t find me.

If you’re an Animagus, he absolutely loses his mind. If you turn into a cat, he thinks you’re a regular cat that wandered onto the base and is playing with you. “You want the pen? You want the pen? Go get it— Steamin’ Jesus, Y/N!” “Soap.” “Can we never—“ “Yes, we’ll never mention this again.” “Can I have my pen back?” “No, this is mine, now.” If you turn into a dog, he asks you to turn so he has a dog to pet. He strikes me as the kid whose best friend was a dog and after the dog died, a piece of him did as well, and petting you as in dog form reminds him of better days. Unfortunately, he tends to do this often, especially during mission briefings. “Johnny, Y/N needs to turn back, we’re having a serious mission briefing.” “I can brief him later, right now, he needs bell scratches.” And if you’re a bird, he asks to outfit you with a camera and has you fly over the AO and get much better intel without alerting the enemy they’re being spied on. And like Ghost, he offers his arm as a perch, but unlike the Lt, he keeps bags of popcorn in his bag and hand feeds it to you after returning to him.

Merlin help you once he discovers you can cast spells like Confringo and Bombarda. Soap will demand you cast said spells on the training field and wants to compete to see who can destroy the most targets (these contests can go on for hours and only ends when Price comes to rescue you). Of course, as much as he hates you being on the field, he asks Price to allow you to help in breaching fortified bases and destroy weapons caches and escape vehicles. He revels in the destructive power you bring to the team and loves to watch you work. “Fookin’ beautiful, Merlin!” “Johnny, we’re being shot at, eyes on the targets!”

Once this man finds out about Quidditch, there goes all your free time. Seriously, once you tell him that there’s a sport where you fly around on broomsticks and try to knock each other off by throwing balls at frightening speeds, that’s all he can think about for days. You tell him all about the history of the game, its rules, and the many famous players that have ver been on the pitch, and as you do all that, this man begins to yearn about actually watching a game.

Fortunately, he gets his wish— in an effort to garner more good publicity, Fudge extends an invitation to you and “the Muggles you’ve been assigned to” to attend the Quidditch World Cup and view it from his private box. Of course, Soap begged Price to allow them to attend and after clearing it with Laswell, all of you attended the most anticipated Quidditch event of the season. And when it was revealed that the Scottish National Quidditch Team was competing, he went flat out ape shit, shouting all sorts of Scottish chants and curses you have yet to decipher.

Of course, many in the Minister’s Box found him annoying and threatened to surge him, you were quick to Transfigure many of them into slugs when everyone was distracted whenever a team scored a point. Of course, Ghost would be the one to catch you. “Bein’ risky, are we?” “No one threatens Soap and gets away with it on my watch.” “Good boy.”

At the end of the day, he’s probably the first friend you’ll make in this scenario. While others are cautious, this man is running up to you and begging you to do magic for him every time you see one another.

Alejandro

The leader of the Los Vaqueros was shocked to see a real wizard before him and had reservations about a minor being allowed in the military, but after seeing you had nothing but the best of intentions being here, he quickly put aside his fears and welcomed you with open arms. Also, Rudy saw how much fun Gaz and Soap were having and wanted to join in, and who is he to disappoint his brother?

After he described the destruction El Sin Nombre, Hassan, and Shadow Company brought to his hometown, you offered to help rebuild. To say he was touched would be an understatement and he accepted the help. He expected you to just help clean up the rubble Graves and his tank made, but when he saw you cast Repairo and the buildings started repairing themselves, he was blown away. In less than half a day, all of Las Almos looked like nothing at all happened. “Ay dios mio… The whole city… it’s been fixed…” let’s just say that after that, you became an honorary member of the Cowboys and had a place in Las Almos whenever you needed it.

He’s very interested in your demonstrations of charms. He especially liked hearing about Wendelin the Weird and how she liked being ticked by the charmed fire so much she allowed herself to be captured multiple times. “Wait, she let herself be captured how many times, hermano?” “Forty-seven times!” “That’s crazy!”

In exchange for teaching him Wizarding World slang, he teaches you to speak Spanish. As well as some very creative swears that he knows Price wouldn’t like (which is why he does it). “Who taught Y/N to say that?!” “No idea, Capitan, might want to ask Gaz. That baby face of his seems like the perfect ruse, yeah?”

He appreciates all the Wiggenweld Potions you brew for him to take back to his men. While the cartels and Shadow Company have been driven out of Los Almos, Valeria is still out there and leading what’s left of her men, trying to rebuild her empire. He’s devote every last resource he has to capturing her, which leads to many injuries. Unfortunately, he can’t always get medical supplies, so that’s where you come in. Whenever you Apparate in their base with crates full of healing potions, you’re heralded as a hero by his men.

You two also bond over music from the Wizarding World. While he loves to listen to the Weird Sisters with his men, when it’s just him, Rudy, and you, he loves to listen to Celestine Warbeck. Once, when he was drunk, he began singing You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me and said that it reminded him of you. The morning after, you and Rudy decided to keep his little performance a secret from him, his men, and the 141, agreeing to take it to your graves.

Like the rest of the men on this list, he absolutely loses it when he sees your an Animagus. “Hermano, why did you not tell me you can do this?” He strikes me as the kid who always wanted a pet, but his parents weren’t able to afford one and there’s been a void only a pet can fill ever since. Sure, he could’ve adopted a dog after he moved out and joined the Mexican Army, but he’s been bust fighting drug lords for years, so he hasn’t had the time to. And here you come in, able to turn into a dog (of course he’d love it if you turned into a cat or bird, but what he really wants is a dog)! “Hey, hermano, do you think you can… you know?” “Of course.” Look, we all know that there’s a spot behind a dog’s ear that makes him thump his leg like crazy, but this man knows how to hit that spot on the FIRST TIME, EVERY TIME! And he does it with just right that you think your leg will never stop thumping. Rudy’s walked in on the two of you many times, and not only keeps quiet about it, but tells the rest of Los Vaqueros to not disturb their hermano. “He’s earned some time to himself.”

You also volunteer your services to help track down Valeria, which puts a smile on his face brighter than Lumos Maxima you’ve ever cast. “Time to go scorpion hunting, my brother!” While you weren’t well versed in Divination, you were able to spy on her men while in Animagus form and any that get captured are given your Veritaserum, making them spill their guts and tell you where her new base is. From there, it’s just getting the layout of the base, which you are able to provide, and that night, both 141 and Los Vaqueros raid the base that night, which ends with no casualties and Valeria’s capture. “We celebrate, my brothers! And we welcome a new member to Los Vaqueros!”

As much as he wanted you to pour the Veritaserum down her throat and make her tell him all he wanted to know, he wanted her to suffer, just a fraction of what he’s felt all these years. So, he asks you if you know any methods of torture that won’t kill her, just make her suffer a bit. So, you looked into it and gave him a boggart locked in a chest and told him about the creature’s ability to take the form of what its victim fears most. Seconds after being exposed to her greatest fear, she begged for mercy and told him everything he wanted to know. As she was being dragged away, still in shock of what she saw, he thanked you for the great service you did for Mexico and invited you to celebrate at a bar they rented out for the night.

Behind closed doors, the 141 and Los Vaqueros came this close to a fistfight because Alejandro wanted to take you back to Mexico with them, to which Price responded with a very loud “Hell no!” which resulted in a prolonged argument with everyone in the room. Finally, Laswell was able to calm them down when she told them that if they don’t “calm the fuck down,” you might be recalled and none of them will see you again. The thought of you leaving terrified them and agreed that they would share custody of you and Alejandro and his men would be allowed to visit the base and see you whenever they wanted to.

Konig

Look, when you both first met, you were terrified of one another. You because this man was as big as Hagrid, skilled in weapons, and made the muscle mass to break you like a twig, and he was terrified of you because he thought you could turn him into a toad like many of the witches he was told about as a child. For the first week or two, you both avoided one another like a case of Dragon Pox.

Eventually, you realized that this mountain of a man was 90% social anxiety and he realized that you weren’t planning on turning anyone into a toad or eating anyone (to which you were horrified that someone would think you possible of such a thing). In fact, when you learned he suffered from constant social anxiety, you brewed him a bottle of Calming Drought and after he drank it, he felt his sense of dread vanish for the first time in years. “Thank you, maus!” And from there, he became your shadow, always close behind you. You gave him bottles of Calming Draught on a regular basis to help the poor man and he became one of your closest friends.

If you have a knack for Herbology, he takes interest in it; there’s just something about digging into the dirt and watching your magical plants grow from such tiny seeds that relaxes him, not unlike your Calming Drought. He helps with carrying large bags of fertilizer, watering your plants, repotting Mandrakes, and harvesting herbs for your potions. He also loves hearing you talk about what each plant is and what they’re used for; not only because he finds this new information interesting, but because he finds your voice very soothing.

God, the moment he discovers that you can turn into an Animagus, he instantly takes a Calming Drought because the the thought of hurting you while being so small is enough to make his anxiety hit him like a sack of bricks. At first he asks you not to be near him out of fear he crushes you, but when you curl up in his lap as a dog/cat, he freezes up and is afraid to even move. Then, he finally works up the courage to pet you and when you let out a pant/purr, he instantly forgets his fears and pets you even more. If you’re a bird, you turn his shoulder into a perch and he instantly falls in love with the idea of being your perch and starts walking around the base like that. “Konig, is that Merlin?” “Ja, Leutnant.” “And you don’t think that’s a bit inappropriate?” “Nein, Leutnant.” As he walks away, he feels Ghost glaring daggers his way, and he’s sure it’s not because of what he’s doing, but because the Lieutenant wishes to take his place.

He also loves to watch you practice your spells and broomstick riding. How you wave your wand or move through the air with such grace astounds him and wishes he could do the same.

After a while, he finds spells and potions capable of reducing one’s size and wishes for you to make him smaller. When he tells you that he’s always felt people would like him better and he would be better at his job if he wasn’t so tall. You instantly tell him that’s not true and that you have a friend whose taller than him and everyone loves him. And so, you arrange a tea time with Hagrid and bring Konig, who is blown away by the size of the half-giant. To say he was breathtaking to have to look up to someone was an odd, yet satisfying experience. The two talk about being tall and Hagrid tells him that despite his giant size, he never stops trying to be helpful. By the time tea is served, Konig feels himself more comfortable in his skin and tells you that he no longer wishes to be small.

When Hagrid goes to bring out his infamous rock cakes, you warn Konig about their tough exterior. However, when he takes a bite, he does so without problem. “I don’t understand, Maus, they’re delicious. If you don’t want yours, may I have it?”

You two leave Hagrid’s hut with the promise to bring Konig back for more tea and rock cakes and when you return, he thanks you profusely for helping him become more confident with his height. He tells you that he sees you as the best friend he’s ever had and promises to always help you whenever you need him.

You also share your stash of sweets from Honeyduke’s, which he is happy beyond words. You warn him when he picks up a box of Bertie’s Every Flavor Beans and laugh harder than you ever have before when he spits out an earwax flavored one. It eventually turns into a game of randomly picking a bean and hoping it wasn’t one of the many disgusting flavors. He quickly grew to love Fizzing Whizzbees when he found out sucking on them allowed you to float in the air. Seriously, just imagine him floating in the air and loving every moment of it, it’s hilarious.

He may not have magic, but this man will NEVER allow someone to harm you. Even if it’s another wizard or witch, he’ll pick up that poor fool and break their back over his knee with no regrets.

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #alejandro vargas #konig mw2 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #harry potter

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